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scarluna · 6 months ago

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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 V / ACT VI / ACT VII / ACT VIII

Chapters: 4 / ?

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

A/N: Rollercoaster of sh*t.

ACT IV.

My head swam, but not from the alcohol this time. Of course, he owned the hottest spot in town. Why wouldn’t he? It was so… him. Dark, magnetic, and pulsing with an energy that felt alive.

I tilted my chin up, caught up by the warmth spreading in my chest. “You could’ve led with that, you know. Saved me the shock.” My words came out more sassy than I’d intended, but the moment they left my mouth, I realized I didn’t care.

Yoongi’s smirk didn’t falter. If anything, it sharpened. “And miss that reaction?” He shrugged. “Not a chance.”

Hoseok snorted beside me, nudging me playfully. “You’re a natural at this, Y/N. Keep him on his toes.”

I ignored Hoseok, my eyes locked on Yoongi’s. “So, what’s the deal? You walk in here like some dark prince, surveying your kingdom, and then just… what? Decide to mingle with the common folk?”

That earned me a genuine chuckle. Low and rich, it sent a ripple through me that I wasn’t prepared for. “If I didn’t know better,” he said, his tone almost teasing, “I’d think you were flirting.”

I rolled my eyes, though my cheeks burned. “I’m just calling it like I see it. Besides,” I gestured around, nearly knocking over an empty glass in the process, “you’re the one interrupting our little party.”

Yoongi leaned closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Trust me, I’m not interrupting. I’m improving it.”

That stupid smirk again. He was too smooth for his own good.

I crossed my arms, standing my ground—or at least trying to, given my slightly unsteady balance. “Bold claim. Care to prove it?”

His gaze darkened, a spark of something unreadable flashing in his eyes. “Careful, Y/N. I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”

It was a challenge, plain and simple. And I was tipsy enough, bold enough, to take the bait.

Yoongi’s gaze lingered on me for a beat longer, the smirk on his lips softening into something dangerously close to intrigue, before he straightened up. “I’ll leave you to your… festivities,” he said, his tone casual but his eyes still locked on mine. “Don’t wander too far.”

And just like that, he turned and disappeared into the crowd, his presence like a phantom that left behind a trail of chaos.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, only to be jolted by the sound of Rya scooting closer. “What the hell was that?” she squeaked, her wide eyes darting between me and the direction Yoongi had gone.

Hoseok, ever the life of the party, burst into laughter, slapping his knee as if the entire exchange had been the highlight of his night. “Oh, this is gold. Y/N, I don’t know what you’re drinking, but you need to have it every time we go out. That was legendary.”

I flushed, suddenly feeling the heat of their stares more than Yoongi’s. “What are you talking about?” I asked, trying—and failing—to sound nonchalant.

Rya gaped at me. “Are you kidding me? You were, like, full-on flirting with Min Yoongi. The Min Yoongi! Who owns this place! And he flirted back!”

“That wasn’t flirting,” I said quickly, though my voice wavered just enough to make my protest unconvincing.

“Oh, please,” Rya shot back, recovering from her shock to grin at me like she’d just uncovered a scandal. “He was looking at you like you were the only person here. And don’t think I didn’t catch that little breathy moment you had when he leaned in.”

“I did too!” Hoseok chimed in, his laughter subsiding into a knowing grin. “You might as well have swooned. It was like watching a scene from a K-drama.”

“I did not swoon!” I hissed, but my cheeks were betraying me, burning hotter by the second.

Rya leaned in, her teasing grin turning downright mischievous. “So? What’s the plan? Are you going to play coy, or are you going to see where this goes?”

“There’s no plan!” I groaned, covering my face with my hands. “It’s not like that.”

“Right,” Rya said, drawing out the word like she didn’t believe me for a second. “And that’s why you’re still blushing.”

“I’m not—”

“You are,” Hoseok and Rya said in unison, and I groaned again, this time into my hands.

Rya gave my shoulder a playful nudge. “Don’t worry, Y/N. We’ll make sure you’re ready for when Prince Yoongi decides to return for his damsel.”

“I hate you both,” I muttered, though I couldn’t stop the small laugh that bubbled up despite myself.

Hoseok raised his glass. “To Y/N, our fearless leader in the art of unexpected seduction!”

Rya clinked her glass against his with a giggle, and I shook my head, knowing there was no escaping their teasing tonight.

The night continued to spiral into a haze of drinks, laughter, and teasing. I couldn’t quite remember how many cocktails I’d had, but the warm, dizzying buzz was taking over. Hoseok kept encouraging me to try new drinks, and I, in my tipsy confidence, couldn’t say no. At some point, I realized my tolerance was slipping, and I needed a break from the noise and chatter.

“Alright, I’m calling it,” I muttered to Rya, who was currently nursing her own drink with that playful grin still plastered on her face. “I need a minute. Just a quick breather.”

“Good call,” she said, her tone teasing as always. “Let's go get some fresh air, princess.”

I took a deep breath and tried to steady myself as I pushed myself to my feet, a little unsteady but managing. The motion of the crowd around me made my head spin, and I began to make my way toward the back of the bar, where the balcony on the second floor awaited.

Rya followed without hesitation, catching up to me as I stumbled out onto the balcony, the cool night air hitting my face and doing little to clear the fog in my head. The balcony overlooked the main entrance, the buzzing energy of the bar below a stark contrast to the calmness of the night sky above.

I leaned against the railing, taking a deep breath. The city lights twinkled in the distance, and for a moment, I almost felt like I could breathe again. Rya stood beside me, lighting up a cigarette. The first drag she took made me blink in surprise. I hadn’t expected her to be a smoker.

“You smoke?” I asked, my voice a little more slurred than I’d intended.

She shrugged, the cigarette hanging between her fingers. “Only when I’m stressed or need to think. Never really felt like it until tonight.” She gave me a sidelong glance, a knowing smile pulling at her lips. “I think you might’ve had a little too much fun tonight.”

I laughed weakly. “Maybe,” I admitted, feeling the buzzing in my head intensify with each word I spoke.

We both stood there in silence for a moment, watching the cars passing by below. The cool breeze was refreshing, but my mind couldn’t seem to quiet.

Rya took another drag from her cigarette, the smoke curling into the air. I could feel her eyes on me as the silence stretched on, but I didn’t know what to say. It was strange, talking to someone who wasn’t part of the world I used to know.

I leaned my elbows on the railing, staring down at the street, my thoughts swirling. “You know, this is weird,” I started, trying to make sense of the jumble in my head. “I’ve never been good at places like this. Clubs. Bars. I don’t know… it just feels like everyone’s always so... confident.”

Rya didn’t say anything at first, just continued to smoke, as if waiting for me to go on. When I did, my words came out more in a rush, as if I couldn’t stop them.

“I used to have this group of girls I called my friends. We’d go out together, but it was never real, you know? Everyone was always smiling at each other, acting like everything was fine, but... behind the scenes, it was all about tearing each other down. I felt like I was invisible half of the time. They only kept me around to make themselves feel better because I was the fat one and they weren't. I just felt... useless.”

I sighed, feeling a bit foolish for spilling all of this out to someone I barely knew. Rya didn’t seem surprised, though. She simply leaned against the railing beside me, flicking the ashes from her cigarette.

“Sounds like they were garbage people,” she said bluntly, without a hint of hesitation.

I blinked at her. “Yeah, well… I didn't know it at the time. I just kept thinking if I stayed, they’d notice me, or that maybe I wasn’t... that bad.”

“You’re not alone in that,” Rya said quietly, her voice softer now. She paused before speaking again, looking out over the railing as if gathering her own thoughts. “I think a lot of people feel that way at some point. Like they don’t belong, or like they’re just filling space.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that. It wasn’t like I expected her to understand completely, but somehow, hearing it from her made me feel a little less crazy. A little less... alone.

“I guess that’s why tonight feels different,” I said after a pause, the words coming out softer, more vulnerable than I meant them to. “For the first time, a stranger actually... came up to me. Asked me to dance. No one’s ever done that before, not like that. I don’t know why, but... it feels like maybe I’m not invisible, you know?”

Rya’s gaze shifted to me then, her eyes softer than they’d been a moment ago. She let the silence stretch for a beat before she smiled. It wasn’t one of her teasing, playful grins. It was something more genuine.

“You’re not invisible, Y/N. Maybe it’s just taking some time for you to see it too.” She took a last drag of her cigarette, letting out a long exhale before tossing it over the side of the balcony. “But don’t let it take too long. You deserve to feel like you matter—like you’re seen.”

I felt a lump form in my throat, and for the first time in a long time, the words I’d wanted to say but never had a chance to were finally coming to the surface.

“Thanks,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “Really.”

She just nodded, her face lighting up with a kind of warmth I wasn’t used to, and I felt something shift inside me. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was something else entirely, but in that moment, with her standing beside me, the weight I’d carried for so long felt just a little bit lighter.

We stayed there for a while longer, the cool breeze calming the storm in my chest, and I let myself simply... be.

Rya and I made our way back into the club, the heat and noise almost overwhelming after the cool air outside. We weaved through the crowd until we found Hoseok sitting in the same booth we had claimed earlier. He was still chatting with Yoongi, who I now realized had been there for a while. He must have arrived earlier while we were outside, though I hadn’t noticed him.

I hadn’t expected him to be the owner of this place. Whilst tipsier earlier, I had came to that realization earlier when he visited us and it surprised me more than I wanted to admit. He didn’t look like the owner, or at least, not like any owner I’d ever imagined. There was something about his sly like fox presence that made him seem more like a mysterious figure who didn’t really want to be noticed.

As we approached, Hoseok greeted us with a bright grin. “Ah, there you are! It took you long enough!”

“We are here now,” I said, not quite ready to dive into anything more. My gaze flickered over to Yoongi, who was sitting back in his chair, relaxed but with his eyes fixed on me. I wasn’t sure if he noticed me looking, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that his presence was like a shadow hanging over everything.

“You guys good?” Rya asked, taking her seat beside Hoseok as if nothing were unusual. I stood for a moment, unsure of what to do next. My glass was almost empty, so I motioned to the bartender for another drink, trying to focus on anything but the magnetic tension I felt from Yoongi.

Rya turned her attention to Hoseok, as usual, but I could feel Yoongi’s gaze on me like a weight. I was hyperaware of every step I took, every breath I made. His presence made my pulse quicken, but I couldn’t give him the satisfaction of showing how much it affected me.

Hoseok, blissfully oblivious to the tension between me and Yoongi, kept up his cheerful banter. “I swear, every time I see you two, I get more and more worried about your liver,” he teased, nudging Rya playfully.

Rya laughed. “We’re fine, Hoseok. Don’t worry about us.”

I couldn’t stop my mind from wandering back to Yoongi, and the more I thought about him, the more the atmosphere in the club felt charged. I had come here tonight for a fun distraction, not to get wrapped up in whatever unspoken connection existed between him and me. But there it was—always lingering in the background, impossible to ignore.

“Y/N, you’re drunk,” Yoongi says, leaning back against the couch with that smug grin plastered across his face. His eyes glint with amusement, the kind that makes my already warm cheeks burn hotter.

“I am not drunk,” I declare, pointing a finger at him dramatically. Okay, so maybe my hand wobbles a little—fine, a lot—but still, I’m holding my ground. “I’m just... delightfully loose. You, on the other hand, wouldn’t know a good time if it hit you in the face.”

His smirk deepens. God, that smirk. “Delightfully loose? Is that what we’re calling this?” He gestures vaguely at me, and I glare at him—or at least I try to glare.

“Yes, and you’re lucky to be in the presence of this level of charm,” I shoot back, crossing my arms. It’s supposed to be dramatic, but I nearly knock over my drink, so the impact is somewhat lessened.

Yoongi just laughs—a rare, low chuckle that makes me want to both punch him and grin like an idiot. “You’re a mess.”

I huff, sitting up straighter. “A delightful mess. Don’t forget the important adjectives, Yoongi.”

He shakes his head, looking at me with that infuriating mix of amusement and fondness. “You’re gonna regret this tomorrow.”

I scoff, tossing my hair over my shoulder like the dramatic queen I absolutely am tonight. “Future me is tough as nails. She can handle it.”

“Uh-huh,” he murmurs, leaning closer now, his face annoyingly smug—and annoyingly close. “You’re fun when you’re drunk. Did I ever tell you that?”

“You’re always fun when you’re around me,” I retort, narrowing my eyes at him. “Which isn’t often, by the way. You’re too busy being sly as a fox.”

He raises a brow. “Sly as a fox?”

“Yes,” I say, leaning into my sass. “Like some sly fox lurking in the shadows, pretending to be all mysterious, but secretly just waiting for someone to feed your ego.”

That laugh again—soft, deep, and way too satisfying to hear. “You’ve got quite the imagination.”

“And you’ve got quite the ego,” I quip, smirking triumphantly. But before I can revel in my win, Yoongi shifts closer, the warmth of his presence suddenly tangible. My breath catches, and I hate how I feel my sass faltering under his gaze.

“You’re impossible,” he whispers, his voice quieter now, like the moment’s shifted without me realizing it.

“Impossibly charming,” I manage, my voice smaller than I’d like, my cheeks heating up even more.

From the corner of my eye, I see Rya grinning like a Cheshire cat, her phone raised. “Oh my God, you two, stay just like that.”

“What? No—Rya!” I protest, my voice going high-pitched and ridiculous, but before I can move, there’s the telltale click of her camera.

Yoongi doesn’t even flinch. In fact, he chuckles, the sound so soft and close it sends a shiver down my spine. “Let her keep it,” he says, looking at me like he’s amused by my flustered state.

“But she’s going to use it against me!” I protest, trying to reach for her phone.

“Don’t worry,” Rya says, laughing as she holds the phone out of reach. “This one’s for memory purposes. You’ll thank me later.”

“Ryaaa!” I groan, but before I can fight back properly, Yoongi’s hand gently catches my wrist.

“Seriously,” he says, his tone low, almost... fond? “Let her keep it. Might be worth remembering tonight.”

I blink, caught completely off-guard by the softness in his voice. His dark eyes meet mine, and suddenly my mind’s gone blank. All the witty comebacks I had lined up? Gone. Just like that.

“I—yeah,” I mumble, the words slipping out before I can think. “Maybe it is.”

For a moment, the world seems to shrink around us, his face close enough that I can see the faintest crinkle at the corner of his eyes.

And in the background, Rya? She’s probably grinning like an idiot because she just captured something that wasn’t meant to be caught.

I finally snapped myself out of the haze and glanced at Rya. “Let’s go dance,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt.

Her eyes lit up. “Now you’re speaking my language!” she said, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the dance floor. I followed her eagerly, trying to push Yoongi from my mind as we joined the crowd.

As the music thumped in my chest, the mood shifted, and I started to let go. The music was slow, sensual, and I found myself following Rya’s lead, moving with her in time with the rhythm. I wasn’t focused on anyone else in the room—just the music, just the beat, just the moment.

But then I felt it again. That familiar, heavy weight of someone’s gaze on me. I looked up and met Yoongi’s eyes across the room. He was watching us. Watching me.

My heart skipped a beat. He didn’t look away this time. His gaze was piercing, intense. And something about the way he looked at me—like he saw right through the act I was putting on—had my chest tightening. The air felt thick, charged with something unspoken, and I felt exposed, like the whole world could see my vulnerability.

Rya must have noticed my shift in energy, because she leaned closer, her lips curling into a sly smile. “You know he’s still watching, right?”

I swallowed, trying to shake off the nervous feeling rising in my chest. “I know,” I muttered, though I was anything but casual about it. Every part of me wanted to pull away, but I couldn’t stop myself from being drawn to him.

Rya gave me a knowing look. “If you keep looking at him like that, you’re gonna end up in trouble.” Her words made me feel even more exposed, but she didn’t stop grinning.

I turned my attention back to the music, trying to lose myself in the rhythm again. But as much as I tried to ignore it, I could still feel Yoongi’s gaze on me, lingering like a weight on my shoulders. The heat from his eyes made everything feel heavier, more intense. It was as if the music wasn’t enough to drown out the way he was looking at me, the magnetic pull between us too strong to ignore.

As the night wore on and the effects of the alcohol finally began to hit me full force, my limbs felt heavy, my steps wobbly. Rya and Hoseok had been keeping an eye on me, and it wasn’t long before Rya grabbed my arm with a concerned look.

“Alright, party girl,” she said, her voice firm but affectionate. “You’ve had your fun, but it’s time to call it a night.”

Hoseok appeared beside her, nodding. “Yep. Before you start serenading the entire club with your ‘delightfully loose’ energy.”

I groaned, my head lolling against Rya’s shoulder. “I was having fun,” I mumbled, but I didn’t resist as they guided me toward the exit. The cool air hit me like a wave as we stepped outside, clearing my head just enough to realize how far gone I was.

“Let’s get her home,” Rya said to Hoseok, who fished out his phone, probably to call a cab.

Before he could, however, the door behind us opened, and Yoongi stepped out into the night. His expression was unreadable as his gaze landed on us—or maybe just on me. “You leaving already?” he asked, his tone casual, but there was something in his voice that made me shiver.

Rya crossed her arms, immediately on guard. “Yeah. She’s had enough for one night.”

Yoongi’s eyes flicked to me, and I couldn’t decipher the look in them. “I’ll take you all home,” he offered, his voice calm but firm. “It’s late. Safer that way.”

Rya and Hoseok exchanged a skeptical glance. “I don’t know…” Rya started, clearly not thrilled about the idea of leaving me in his care.

Yoongi smirked slightly, his confidence frustratingly unwavering. “Relax. I’m not going to do anything. I’ll drop you both off first. She’ll be fine.”

“Will she?” Rya challenged, her sharp eyes narrowing.

“Rya,” Hoseok interrupted, putting a hand on her shoulder. “It’s late. He’s sober, and we’re all here. It’s probably better than waiting for a cab.”

Rya hesitated but finally relented with a sigh. “Fine,” she muttered, shooting Yoongi a pointed glare. “But if you try anything—”

He held up his hands in mock surrender, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. “Scout’s honor.”

With some reluctance, we all piled into Yoongi’s car. Hoseok and Rya sat in the back, with me in the passenger seat, my head leaning heavily against the window as the cool glass soothed my overheated skin. The drive was quiet at first, the hum of the engine almost lulling me to sleep.

Yoongi dropped Hoseok off first, who gave him a wary but grateful nod. Then it was Rya’s turn. Before she got out, she leaned over the seat, glaring at Yoongi. “I’m trusting you with her,” she said, her tone deadly serious. “Keep your hands to yourself.”

Yoongi raised an eyebrow, amused. “You’re awfully protective.”

“She’s my best friend,” Rya shot back, her voice firm. “And I’ll hunt you down if you try anything.”

Yoongi chuckled, the sound low and infuriatingly confident. “Noted.”

Rya turned to me, squeezing my hand. “Text me when you’re home, okay?”

I nodded, too tired to do more than mumble, “I will.”

Once Rya was gone, the silence in the car felt heavier. I shifted slightly in my seat, sneaking a glance at Yoongi. He was focused on the road, his expression unreadable, but the air between us was charged, thick with unspoken tension.

“You don’t have to take me home,” I mumbled, my voice softer now. “I could’ve taken a cab.”

“I know,” he said simply, not looking at me. “But I wanted to.”

Something about his tone made my heart skip a beat. I turned my gaze back to the window, watching the city lights blur past, but I couldn’t shake the awareness of him beside me.

“You’re quiet,” he said after a moment, his voice breaking the silence.

“Just tired,” I replied, though it wasn’t the full truth. My thoughts were racing, filled with the way he looked at me earlier, the way he always seemed to carry himself with that infuriating mix of arrogance and mystery.

“You’re not as tough as you act, you know,” he said, his voice softer now, almost contemplative.

I turned to look at him, frowning. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He glanced at me, a hint of a smirk on his lips. “Just an observation.”

I huffed, crossing my arms. “You don’t know me well enough to make observations.”

“Maybe not,” he admitted, his tone annoyingly calm. “But I think I’m starting to.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, I didn’t know how to respond. My pulse quickened, and I hated how easily he got under my skin.

When we finally pulled up in front of my apartment, he parked the car and turned to me, his gaze steady. “Go inside. Text your friend like you promised.”

I nodded, fumbling with the door handle, but before I could get out, he spoke again.

“And Y/N?”

I paused, looking back at him.

He leaned slightly closer, his voice low. “You’re fun when you’re drunk. But you’re even more fun when you’re just you.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks, and for once, I had no witty comeback. Instead, I mumbled a quick goodnight and practically bolted out of the car, my heart racing as I fumbled for my keys.

As I stepped inside my apartment, I couldn’t help but glance out the window. His car was still there, idling for a moment before finally pulling away. And even as I closed the door behind me, my mind was still spinning, the memory of his words—and that look in his eyes—seared into my thoughts.

The next morning, I felt like death warmed over. My head throbbed with a relentless rhythm, and the sunlight streaming through the curtains made my eyes squeeze shut in protest. I groaned, rolling onto my side.

“Ugh... Hades,” I mumbled, squinting toward the edge of the bed. Sure enough, my little fluff ball of a dog was perched on his usual spot near my feet, his dark eyes fixed on me, ears perked in expectation. His tiny tail wagged as soon as I stirred.

“I know, I know,” I muttered, pushing myself up with far more effort than it should’ve taken. My mouth was dry, my muscles heavy, and my thoughts even heavier. “Breakfast first. Then I can hate myself for last night.”

Hades hopped off the bed and trotted ahead of me, his soft white fur bouncing with each step. By the time I reached the kitchen, he was already circling his food bowl, giving me a look that said, Hurry up, human.

I chuckled weakly, filling his dish and setting it down. “There. Happy?” I watched as he dove in, his tail wagging like I’d just given him the world. At least one of us was having a good morning.

While Hades busied himself with his food, I stumbled into the bathroom for a much-needed shower. The hot water did its best to melt away my hangover, but the memories of last night refused to wash away so easily.

By the time I made it back to the kitchen and poured myself a cup of coffee, my nerves were already fraying. With Hades trailing close behind, I shuffled out onto the balcony, cradling my mug like it was my last lifeline.

The crisp morning air helped a little, enough to jolt me out of the lingering haze of sleep. Hades curled up near my feet, his fluffy coat glowing in the soft sunlight as he rested his head on his paws.

I leaned back in my chair, taking a slow sip of coffee. For a moment, I let the stillness of the morning lull me, the warmth of the mug grounding me. But it didn’t last long.

Like an unwelcome tide, the memories from last night started flooding back.

The club. The drinks. The banter with Yoongi. My stomach twisted as flashes of my drunken antics resurfaced—the sass, the dramatic finger-pointing, the teasing.

“What the hell was I thinking?” I muttered, covering my face with one hand. Hades perked up slightly at the sound of my voice but settled back down when he realized I wasn’t going anywhere.

The memory of Yoongi’s smirk, his low chuckle, the way he’d looked at me—all of it came rushing back, vivid and unrelenting. My cheeks burned as I remembered calling him a sly fox and declaring myself a “delightful mess.” The mortification was almost enough to make me curl up into a ball and stay there forever.

But what really made my chest tighten was the car ride home. His words, his gaze, the way he’d said, “You’re even more fun when you’re just you.”

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. Why couldn’t I just forget about it? Why did that moment, of all things, have to stick with me?

The insecurities hit like a freight train, each one louder than the last. Did I look foolish to him? Did I come off as desperate? What if I’d ruined everything—whatever this was?

Hades shifted at my feet, letting out a soft whine, and I reached down to scratch behind his ears, needing the comfort. “It’s fine,” I told him softly, more to myself than to him. “It’s not like he’s going to bring it up. Right?”

Hades yawned, clearly uninterested in my crisis, and rested his head again. I let out a shaky sigh, sipping my coffee and staring out at the city.

I had no idea how to face him again. But no matter how much I panicked, I couldn’t stop replaying his words in my head, over and over again.

“You’re even more fun when you’re just you.”

Why did that have to be the part I remembered most?

I swirled the mug absently, staring at the skyline but not really seeing it. The memory of Yoongi’s smirk lingered in my mind, sharp and clear. The way his eyes had glinted with something unreadable, something that made me feel... seen, but not in a way I could understand.

And what if it was all just a game?

My stomach twisted violently at the thought, the unease clawing its way up my throat. What if Yoongi had just been toying with me? Testing how far he could push me before I broke? It wouldn’t be the first time someone had done that, the memory of teenage taunts and cruel laughter surfacing like ghosts I thought I’d buried.

What if he wanted to see if the fat girl would fall for his charms?

I felt sick. I set the mug down with shaky hands, clutching the edge of the table as if it could anchor me. My cheeks burned, but this time it wasn’t embarrassment—it was anger. Anger at myself for letting him get to me, for letting my guard down, for letting his words and his smile burrow under my skin like they had any right to be there.

Fucking hell, Y/N. Why did you let this happen?

I buried my face in my hands, the sharp edge of panic building in my chest. What if he laughed about it later? What if this was nothing but some joke to him? A story to share with Jungkook tomorrow at work?

Oh, God.

Was he going to mock me?

I could already picture it: Yoongi leaning back in his chair, smirking as he recounted the night to Jungkook. Talking about how easy it was to get a reaction out of me, how I’d blushed, how I’d been drunk enough to practically fall into his lap.

My breathing hitched, anxiety tightening its grip on me like a vise. I pressed my hands to my face, trying to will the spiral to stop, but it didn’t. The thoughts came faster, louder, each one worse than the last.

What if tomorrow at work he made some sly comment, dropping hints that only I would catch, smirking when I squirmed under the weight of it? What if Jungkook looked at me differently, pitying me for falling for Yoongi’s charms? What if—what if—

“Stop it,” I whispered harshly to myself, my voice trembling.

But the damage was done. The doubts had sunk their claws into me, and no matter how much I tried to shove them down, they lingered, festering like an open wound.

Hades whined softly at my feet, nudging my leg with his nose. I looked down at him, my chest tightening further. His dark eyes stared up at me, his tiny head tilted, as if asking, Why are you upset?

I reached down, stroking his soft fur with trembling hands. “I’m fine,” I murmured, though the words felt like a lie.

But I wasn’t fine.

I was panicking, spiraling, drowning in a tide of insecurities that felt too heavy to swim against. And no matter how hard I tried to push the memories of last night away, they clung to me, stubborn and sharp, refusing to let me forget just how vulnerable I’d been.

And how foolish I’d been to let myself believe, even for a second, that Yoongi might have meant any of it.

The Monday morning commute was a nightmare. Traffic was a mess, and I could feel the anxiety building with each minute I was stuck in place. My stomach twisted in knots, and by the time I made it to the office, I was already on edge. The weekend had been long and uncomfortable, and I was not in the mood to face everyone—especially Yoongi.

As soon as I stepped through the door of the office, I immediately felt the weight of all those eyes. The hum of the usual office chatter felt deafening.

I kept my head down as I walked toward my desk, hoping I could just blend into the sea of busy workers. I didn’t need anyone noticing me today. I didn’t need anyone talking to me.

I quickly sank into my chair and buried myself behind my computer, praying that I could get through the day without any awkward interactions. The worst part was that I could feel it—the tension in the air, thick and unspoken. The what ifs from the weekend were still swirling in my mind, and the fear of being the subject of office gossip made it hard to focus on anything else.

Just when I thought I might finally be safe, I heard the unmistakable sound of Rya’s footsteps approaching. My heart dropped into my stomach.

“Y/N,” she said, her tone already heavy with something I didn’t want to hear. “We need to talk.”

I looked up, already feeling a rush of dread. “What’s going on?”

Rya’s eyes were filled with concern, and there was something else, too—something I couldn’t quite place. She hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “The picture of you and Yoongi… the one I took that night… it’s been uploaded to the company website.”

My blood ran cold. I could feel my face drain of color as I scrambled to process what she was saying. “What?!” I hissed, glancing around the office. Sure enough, a few people were looking in our direction, whispering to one another. I wanted to shrink into my chair, but it felt like all eyes were on me.

“What do you mean it was uploaded?” I felt the panic rising in my chest.

Rya sighed, crossing her arms. “I don’t know. It just appeared there. Some anonymous source uploaded it, and now… well, people are talking.”

I stood up so quickly that my chair nearly tipped over. My hands were shaking as I scanned the room, my eyes darting from one person to the next. I could feel the heat in my cheeks as the realization hit me: someone had posted the picture of Yoongi and me, and now it was out in the open for everyone to see.

“Did you do it?” I asked, my voice rising. Rya’s eyes widened, and she immediately shook her head.

“Y/N, no! I swear to you, I didn’t do it!” she protested. “Hoseok didn’t either. We’d never—”

I couldn’t stop the surge of frustration. I knew I wasn’t going crazy, but there was only one person who had been there with us, who could potentially have access to the photo. “Then who else was there, Rya?” I spat, my hands clenched into fists.

She blinked in surprise at the sudden heat in my voice, but I could see her starting to piece things together. “Wait… you don’t think… Yoongi, right?”

The truth hit me like a ton of bricks. It was the only explanation that made sense. He had been there, and he was the one with the power to upload it. I felt my blood boil. Of course it was him.

I stormed down the hallway, my steps growing faster as I approached the balcony. I knew exactly where to find him—Yoongi was always there, cigarette in hand, leaning against the railing, as if the world outside could fix whatever thoughts were swirling in his head. But when I threw open the door, I wasn’t prepared for what I saw.

Jungkook was standing there, his hand gripping Yoongi’s collar, his face tight with anger. My heart sank, and for a split second, I didn’t even know how to react.

“Jungkook, what the hell—” I snapped, my voice sharp with confusion and frustration.

He turned to face me, his expression a mix of upset and disbelief. "You—" he started, cutting off mid-sentence, his gaze flicking to Yoongi, still holding him by the collar. "This picture, Y/N. You don’t get it. It’s going to ruin the company’s image!"

I could feel my pulse quicken, anger boiling in my veins. I hadn’t even had a chance to process what was happening before Yoongi spoke up, his voice low and mocking, as always.

"Relax," he drawled, taking a long drag from his cigarette. “I did not upload it. Not like you had much to worry about, though. The way you looked that night... You sure your friends are as real as they seem?”

His words hit like a slap, each syllable laced with venom, and I could feel my stomach churn in disbelief. The nerve of him, mocking me like this—mocking everything I’d been through. The image, my friends, all of it.

I was so angry, I couldn’t even speak. Instead, I just stared at him, every part of me wanting to explode. How dare he act like I was the one causing problems when he was the one toying with my life?

The sting of Yoongi’s words hit harder than I ever expected. It was like a punch to the gut, and I could feel every bit of my frustration and hurt boiling over. How could he say something like that? How could he act so differently now?

It felt like all the walls I had put up around myself were crashing down. I had trusted him. I had thought maybe, just maybe, there was something real between us. But now—now he was just mocking me, belittling me, throwing all of my emotions in my face like they meant nothing.

Before I could even think, my hand was moving, slapping him across the face with all the force I could muster. His head snapped to the side, but the cold expression didn’t falter. And then, without thinking again, I shoved him hard—his cigarette flying from his hand as he stumbled back.

“Go to Hell.” I choked out, my voice trembling with rage and hurt.

Without giving him a chance to respond, I turned and stormed off the balcony, my chest tight and tears already starting to blur my vision. I couldn’t hold them back. They burned, hot and relentless, as I ran down the hall to find somewhere, anywhere, to hide.

I ended up in a bathroom, locking the door behind me. My legs gave way, and I collapsed onto the cold tiles, sobbing uncontrollably. I didn’t care anymore. Nothing mattered. My entire body shook with the weight of it—the betrayal, the pain, the confusion. Why did he have to hurt me like this? Why did he have to make me feel so small?

I spent what felt like hours on the bathroom floor, crying until my throat ached and my eyes burned. My makeup was ruined, my emotions shredded, and I couldn’t even think straight.

Eventually, after what felt like a lifetime, I managed to pull myself together enough to stand and wipe my face. I wasn’t ready to face anyone, but I knew I had to. I took a deep breath, wiped away the last of the tears, and stepped out of the bathroom.

As soon as I did, I froze. Rya was standing there, her posture tense, her eyes full of regret. My heart sank.

"Y/N, wait," she began softly, stepping closer. "I—"

“What do you want, Rya?” I cut her off, my voice hoarse from crying. I wasn’t sure I could handle another person adding to my mess right now.

“I need to explain," she said, looking like she was about to cry too. "It was me. I—I sent the picture to Hoseok, and Hoseok... he sent it to his co-worker."

I felt the room spin, the anger and confusion flooding back all at once. "You did what?" I asked, my voice trembling with disbelief.

She nodded, her eyes full of guilt. "I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t think it would get out like this. It was a stupid mistake. I should’ve never sent it. Please, just... please understand. I never meant for any of this to happen."

The words didn’t feel real. I just stood there, my mind racing, my heart sinking deeper into my chest. So much had been messed up already. So much had been done, and now... now it was all just crashing down around me.

I didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want to hear Rya's apologies or explanations. I couldn’t. It was too much, and right now, I just needed to be alone. The last thing I wanted was to stand there and listen to her make excuses for what she’d done. So, without another word, I turned and walked away from her, heading straight for my desk.

My steps were heavy, each one feeling like a punishment as I walked through the hallway. I didn’t care who saw me, didn’t care about the mess I was. I just wanted to go back to my desk, to find some semblance of control in the chaos.

As soon as I reached my cubicle, I collapsed into my chair, my hands gripping the edge of the desk as I tried to steady my breathing. I could feel the weight of everything pressing down on me. My heart still ached from Yoongi's words, and now, the fallout from Rya’s actions, the picture… It was all just too much.

But the relief of sitting at my desk didn’t last long.

Tina’s voice cut through the air, sharp and mocking as she approached me. "Well, well, look who’s back," she sneered. “Had a nice little breakdown, huh? That photo was a real treat. It’s almost cute how hard you tried to pretend you had it together.”

I didn’t even look up at her. I couldn’t stomach the idea of interacting with someone like her right now.

But Tina wasn’t done. She moved closer, her voice dripping with venom. "You know, Y/N," she said, her tone laced with cruelty, "I don’t know why you even bother. People like you? You’re never going to be loved. A fatty like you will always just be a joke."

The words hit me like ice water, cold and suffocating. I could feel my stomach drop, my chest tightening with the sting of her words. Every single insult she hurled felt like it was carving into my skin, one cruel word after another.

"People like me?" I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper, unable to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. "What does that even mean?"

Tina chuckled, a sound so bitter it made my skin crawl. "It means exactly what I said. You’re never going to fit in, Y/N. Not with your body, not with your face, not with any of it. No one’s going to look at you the way they look at someone who actually matters."

I felt every word sink deeper into me, like poison that was seeping into my soul. I couldn’t even breathe. The thought of her judging me, of everyone judging me, it was too much.

I felt myself shaking, not from anger, but from the hurt that felt too heavy to carry. It wasn’t just her words. It wasn’t just Tina or anyone else. It was everything—the picture, Yoongi’s mockery, Rya’s betrayal—and now this, this new low I hadn’t even anticipated.

My hands clenched into fists, but even that wasn’t enough to stop the tears from spilling over. Tina had done it—she’d finally broken me.

I was still sitting there, trying to gather myself, my hands trembling as I wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand. I could feel Tina’s eyes on me, her cruel words still ringing in my head like a broken record. I was trying so hard to keep it together, to not break completely, but every attempt felt futile.

Then, suddenly, I heard it—Jungkook's voice, sharper than I’d ever heard before.

"That’s enough," he snapped, his tone unlike anything I had ever heard from him. I looked up in surprise, my mind trying to process what was happening. His eyes were fierce, his jaw clenched as he stepped between me and Tina, standing protectively in front of me.

Tina scoffed, but there was a hesitant look in her eyes, as though she hadn’t expected Jungkook to speak up like that. "What, are you going to play the hero now after you were mocking her too?" she sneered, but her words lacked conviction.

"One word," Jungkook shot back, his voice like ice. "One word and you will get dismissed effective immediately."

He stood tall, unwavering, until Tina finally huffed and walked away, clearly unwilling to challenge him further. As she turned on her heel, I could hear her mutter something under her breath, but I didn’t care. All I could focus on was Jungkook now.

He turned to me, his face softening a bit, though there was still a tightness in his expression. He knelt down in front of me, his presence oddly comforting despite everything I had been through today.

"You okay?" he asked quietly, but his concern was evident.

I shook my head, unable to find the words. There was too much going on inside my head, too much hurt and betrayal. I couldn’t trust anyone right now—not Tina, not even Rya or Yoongi. I couldn’t tell him that though. "Come to my office," he had whispered and before I could reply, my feet were dragging me there, following behind. He made sure to close the door as I sat on the soft cushioned sofa near his desk.

He didn't say anything nor pushed further. Instead, he walked to the side, pouring a glass of water and took out his handkerchief laying in one of his pockets. He returned and placed them in front of me, his movements careful, like he was trying to give me space but still offer some kind of comfort.

I glanced at the glass of water and the handkerchief. oddly enough I noticed red /JK/ initials on it. Funny.

I knew he was trying to help, but part of me didn’t know how to accept it. I didn’t know how to accept help from anyone right now. Everyone seemed so fake, so full of hidden motives, and I felt like I was surrounded by nothing but lies.

"Take it easy," Jungkook said, his voice calm and gentle. "You don’t have to stay here. If you need some time, take the day off. Go home. Just… take care of yourself, alright?"

I looked up at him, feeling a mix of emotions—gratitude, suspicion, confusion. It was hard to trust anyone at this point, especially when I had been betrayed so many times today. I didn’t know if I could leave, if I could just walk away from all of this, but… it did sound like the right thing to do.

"You don’t have to figure it out all at once.." he answered, noticing the pain in my eyes.

He took a step back, allowing me the space to make my own decision. He didn’t push, just stood there quietly, waiting for me to come to my own conclusion.

I could feel the tears starting to well up again, but I didn’t want to break down in front of him. I needed to pull myself together.

I nodded slowly, still uncertain, but willing to listen for my own sake. "Okay. I’ll go home."

I let out a shaky breath, picking up the glass of water as my hands trembled. For the first time today, I felt like maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t completely alone. But even then, there was a nagging feeling in the back of my mind, telling me to be careful.

Trusting anyone right now seemed impossible.

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dxrlingluv · 2 months ago

Note

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.

#epic the musical #epic x reader #epic fanfic #apollo x reader #epic apollo #apollo #god games #epic zeus #epic odysseus #apollo x reader smut #smut #x reader

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derinwrites · 1 year ago

Text

How can I make money writing fiction?

I'm gonna be straight with you. There is no guarantee that you'll make enough as an independent writer to make it worth your time. You very well might -- I make a liveable wage as an independent writer -- but many don't. Most writers I know also have a job. And luck plays a big part in it.

If you're interested in going forward in spite of this, you have two main options for monetisation open to you, and you are going to have to pick one. I call them the sales model and the sponsorship model, and you are going to have to pick one.

The sales model involves writing stories and selling them to readers. You can put books up on Amazon or Smashwords, sell them direct from your own website, enlist the help of a traditional publisher to handle that for you and let them decide where to sell, whatever -- the point is that your money is made from the sale of books to readers. If you go with a traditional publisher, you're using this model (though they will give you some of the money ahead of time in the form of an advance). Most indie authors also use this model, publishing through draft2digital, Ingram Spark, direct through Amazon, whatever. I've never relied on the sales model and can't give you any advice on how to do this, but Tumblr is full of indie authors who probably can.

The sponsorship model involves soliciting small amounts of money from various readers over time. This is ideal for web serials, and it's what I use. I use Patreon, which is designed specifically for this purpose, but you can use other sites such as ko-fi. This model involves providing regular content for free, with bonuses for those who support you.

"Can't I do both? Sell books and have a Patreon?" You absolutely can! I know several indie authors with a Patreon. I sell my completed books as ebooks and will eventually sell them as paperbacks. But your time and attention is limited, and so is your audience's, and you're going to have to half-arse one of these in order to have enough arse to whole-arse the other. You're going to make a lo of decisions that benefit either the sponsorship model or the sales model, not both. So pick your primary income source early and commit.

I can only advise on writing web serials and using the sponsorship model, so I'll go ahead with that assumption. If you want to make a liveable wage doing this, not only will you need luck, you'll also need patience. This is not a fast way to build a career. at the end of my first year of doing this, I had one single patron, and they were a real-life friend of mine. When I reached an income of $100/month, I threw a little party for myself, I was so happy. It had taken such a long time and was so much work. I reached enough to cover rent/mortgage after I'd been doing this for more than four years. It's a long term sort of career.

Here are some general tips for succeeding in this industry, given by me, someone with no formal training in any of this who only vaguely knows what they're talking about:

Have a consistent update schedule and STICK TO IT

The #1 indicator for stable success in this industry (aside from luck, which we're discounting because you can't do much about that) is having a consistent update schedule. Your readers need to know when the next chapter is coming out, and it should be coming out regularly. Ideally, you should have no breaks or hiatuses -- if you're in a bus crash or something, that might be unavoidable, and your readers will understand if you tell them, but if you're stopping and starting a lot for trivial reasons, they WILL abandon you. You can't get away with that shit if you're not Andrew Hussie, and I'm pretty sure Andrew Hussie doesn't message me for career advice on Tumblr. If you find you need a lot of hiatuses to write fast enough then you're updating too often; change your schedule. A regular schedule is more important than a fast one (ideally it should be both, but if you have to pick between the two, pick regular).

2. Pay attention to your readership, listen to what they want from you

Your income is based on a pretty complicated support structure when you're using the sponsorship model. this model relies on people finding your story, liking your story, and continuing to find it valuable enough to keep paying you month after month. This means that your rewards for your sponsors should be things that they value and will continue to pay for ('knowing I'm supporting an artist whose work I enjoy' counts as a thing that they value, to my great surprise; there's a lot of people giving me money just for the sake of giving me money, so I can pay my mortgage and keep writing for them without needing a second job), but it also means supporting the entire network that attracts readers and keeps them having the best time they can with your story -- being part of a rewarding community. Because this is advice on making money, I'm going to roughly divide your readership into groups based on how they affect your bottom line:

sponsors. People giving you money directly. The importance of keeping this group happy should be obvious.

administration and community helpers -- discord moderators, IT people, guys who set up fan wikis, whoever's handling your mailing list if you have a mailing list. You can do this stuff yourself, or you can hire someone to do it, but if you're incredibly lucky and people enjoy being a part of your reader community, people will sometimes volunteer to do the work for free. If you are lucky enough to get such people, respect them. They are doing you a massive favour, and they're not doing it for you, but to maintain a place that they value, and you have to respect both of those things. My discord has just shy of 1,300 members and is moderated by volunteers. I'd peel my own face off if I had to moderate a community that large. If you've got people stepping up to do work for you, you need to respect them and you need to make sure that they continue to find that rewarding by doing what you can to make sure that the community they're maintaining is rewarding. Sometimes this means taking actions and sometimes this means staying the fuck out of the way. Depending on the circumstances.

fan artists. Once you have people drawing your characters, writing fanfic of your stories, whatever, treat these like fucking gold. Give them a space to do this, and more importantly, give them a space to do this without you in it. Fanworks are a symptom of engagement with your work, which is massively important. They are also a component of a healthy community, an avenue for readers to talk to each other and express themselves creatively to each other. Third, fanworks act as a bridge for new readers. When readers share their art on, say, Tumblr, it can intrigue new people and get them into the story. Your job in all of this is to give them the space to work, encourage them as required or invited (I reblog most TTOU fanart that I'm tagged in on Tumblr, for instance), and other than that, stay the fuck out of their way. These people are vital to the liveblood of your community, the continued engagement of your audience, and the interest of your sponsors. Some of the fan artists will be sponsors themselves; some won't be. Those who aren't sponsors are still massively valuable for their art.

speculators, conversers, theorists, livebloggers, and That Guy Who's Just Really Jazzed For The Next Chapter. Some people don't make art but just like to chat about your story. These people are a bedrock of the community that's supporting your sponsors and increasing your readership, and therefore are critical to your income stream. Give them a place to talk. Be nice to them when they talk to you. Sometimes, they'll ask you questions about the story, which you can choose to answer or not, however you feel is appropriate. They'll also want to chat about non-story-related stuff with each other, so make sure they have a place to do that, too.

that guy who never talks to you or comments on anything but linked your story to ten guys in his office who all read it now. Some of your supporters are completely invisible to you. You can't do anything for these people except continue to release the story and have a forum they can silently lurk on if they want to. But, y'know, they exist.

If you want to focus on income then these are, roughly, the groups of people that you will need to listen to and accommodate for. You can generally just make sure they have space to do their thing, and if they want anything else, they'll tell you (yes, guys, paperbacks will be coming eventually). Many people will fit into multiple groups -- I have some sponsors that are in every single one of these groups except the last. Some will only be in one group. A healthy income rests on a healthy community which rests on accommodating these needs.

3. If you can manage it, try to make your story good.

It's also helpful for your story to be good. Economically, this is far less important than you'd think -- there are some people out there writing utter garbage and making a living doing it. Garbage by what standards? By whatever your standards are. Just think of the absolute laziest, emptiest, hackiest waste-of-bandwidth story you can imagine -- some guy is half-arsing that exact story and making three times what you'll ever make on Patreon doing it. And honestly? Good for him. If he's making that much then his readers are enjoying it, and that's what matters. Still, one critical component of making money as a writer is writing something that people actually want to read. And you can't trick them with web serials, because they don't pay in advance -- if they're bored, they'll just stop. So you have to make it worth their time, money and attention, and the simplest way to do that is to write a good story.

This hardly seems mentioning, since you were presumably planning to do that anyway. It's basic respect for your audience to give them something worth their time. Besides, if we're not interested in improving our craft and striving for our best, what are we even writing for? I'm sure I don't need to tell you to try to write a good story. The reason I list this is in fact the opposite -- don't let "I'm not a good enough writer" paralyse you. The world is full of someday-writers who endlessly fuss over and revise a single story because it's not good enough, it's not perfect, they're not Terry Pratchett yet. Neither was Terry Pratchett when his first books were published. If you're waiting to be good enough, you won't start. I didn't think Curse Words was good enough when I started releasing it -- I still don't. I started putting it out because I knew it was the only way I'd get myself to actually finish something. I don't think it's all that great, but you know what? An awful lot of people read it and really enjoyed it. And if I hadn't released it, I'd have been doing those people a disservice.

Also, it taught me a lot, and based on what I learned, Time to Orbit: Unknown is much better. If I'd never released Curse Words, if I hadn't seen how people read it and reacted to it and seen what worked and what didn't, then Time to Orbit: Unknown wouldn't be very good. And it certainly wouldn't be making me a living wage, because it was the years writing Curse Words that started building the momentum I have today.

And Time to Orbit: Unknown as it is today has some serious problems. Problems that I'm learning from. And the next book will be a lot better.

So that's basically my advice for making money in this industry. Be patient, be lucky, be consistent. Value your community; it's your lifeline, even the parts of it that don't directly pay you. And try to make your story as good as you can, but make that an activity you do, not a barrier to prevent you from starting.

Good luck.

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screaminglygay · 9 months ago

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KINKTOBER (day 3)

pairing: natasha romanoff x fem!reader - dirty talk

summary: natasha made a mess while carving pumpkins and you did too

warning: flirting, teasing, dirty talk, a bit of a porn plot

word count: 2k

an: ugh i have such a writing block these last days, especially with smut:(( hope you´ll like this one!

You and Natasha are in the kitchen, surrounded by pumpkins, carving tools, and a few snacks. The atmosphere is light and cozy, with soft music playing in the background. Natasha has a determined look, taking her pumpkin carving seriously, while you are more focused on having fun.

You start carving your pumpkins together, chatting about your designs. “Nat, I’m going for the classic scary face. What about you?”

“I’m thinking something more intricate. Maybe a spider web?” she replies, her focus sharp as ever.

You admire how her hands glide over the pumpkin. She smiles softly when you compliment her skills, making your heart skip a beat. You’re not the best at carving, but Natasha is patient, even showing you the best way to cut the top off. “Like this?” you ask, after her demonstration.

“Perfect,” she grins, her eyes flicking up to meet yours.

The lightness between you two is full of laughter, smiles, and the smell of fresh pumpkin. Things start to get a bit more playful when you’re scooping out the insides of the pumpkin. Natasha hands you a spoon and says, “You need to dig deeper to get everything out,” she advises, showing you how to scoop.

You pause, the double meaning not lost on you, and glance over at her with a mischievous smirk. “Deeper, huh? Got it.” You make sure to draw out the word, giving her a pointed look.

Natasha raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything, though you notice the hint of a smile tugging at her lips. You keep teasing. “What if I can't get it all? Maybe I need some help… I’m sure you’ve got more experience with this.”

She laughs, shaking her head as if she’s used to your antics. But she plays along, leaning in just slightly. “I could help… but then you’d miss out on all the fun of doing it yourself,” she flirts back, her voice dropping just a little, playful but smooth.

As you carve, the suggestive comments keep flowing, Natasha remarks, “Don’t be afraid to make it bigger, sometimes you just have to really push through.”

“Oh, trust me, I’m not afraid of making it bigger.” You notice how she watches you, her smile widening at your boldness. There's a shared moment of tension, but it’s still lighthearted, the air thickening as you both push the boundaries a little more.

Natasha finally wipes her hands on a towel, standing closer to you as she looks down at your half-carved pumpkin. “You’re getting good at this. I might have to start coming to you for help,” she says, the flirtation clear now.

You smirk, looking up at her. “Oh, I’m always happy to lend a hand… or two, if you need it.”

You’re feeling pretty smug, pushing Natasha’s buttons with your cheeky comments, enjoying the way her eyes darken just a bit more with each tease. But as the playful chat escalates, you realize you may have underestimated your girlfriend.

After your last remark about lending her a hand, Natasha steps closer. The space between you feels smaller now, her presence more intense. She leans over, pretending to inspect your pumpkin, her arm brushing against yours, the contact sparking something that has your breath catching.

“You know,” she murmurs, her voice low and smooth, “for someone who talks such a big game, you’re looking a little… flustered.”

Your confidence wavers for the first time, the bold, flirty front you’ve been putting up starting to crack under her closeness. You can feel her body heat, her arm pressing just a little firmer against yours, and suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of everything about her—her scent, her breath, her fingers barely grazing your wrist as she reaches for the spoon again.

“Flustered? Pfft, no way,” you try to laugh it off, but it comes out shakier than you intended. She notices, of course.

“Oh?” Natasha's voice is laced with amusement now. She picks up the spoon again, leaning even closer as she digs into the pumpkin, her arm brushing your shoulder. “You were so bold a second ago… what happened? Did I say something to make you nervous?”

Her words are soft, but the intent behind them is clear. Your heart races. You can’t tell if it’s because of the closeness or the way her fingers seem to linger on your arm just a bit too long. You feel your face heat up, and the teasing confidence you had a moment ago evaporates.

“N-no, I’m fine,” you stammer, but Natasha’s smirk tells you she doesn’t believe a word of it.

“Mmm, I don’t know… you seem a little quiet all of a sudden. Where’s all that sass gone?” Her voice is teasing, but there’s an edge to it that has you swallowing hard.

You fumble with your spoon, trying to focus on your pumpkin, but Natasha’s hand suddenly covers yours, guiding it. Her touch is firm but gentle, and you realize how shaky your own hand has become. She leans in, her lips dangerously close to your ear.

“Deeper,” she whispers again, this time her voice lower, more intimate. The word sends a shiver down your spine, and you nearly drop the spoon.

Her breath brushes against your neck, and you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks. You can’t think of anything to say, all the bratty confidence you’d had melting under the intensity of her attention. “What’s wrong?” she asks, her tone teasing but soft, like she’s genuinely enjoying watching you unravel. “You’re not backing down already, are you?”

You try to regain control, but Natasha’s hand lingers on yours, and she shifts just a little closer, her body now pressing lightly against yours as she leans forward to inspect the pumpkin. Her proximity is overwhelming, and you can feel the heat from her body seeping into yours, making it harder to concentrate.

“I-I’m not backing down,” you manage to say, but your voice is quieter, less sure. You hate how easily she’s turning the tables on you, but the way her fingers lightly trace patterns on your skin makes it hard to think straight.

Natasha chuckles, and you can feel the vibration of her laughter against your shoulder. She straightens up but doesn’t move away. Instead, she tilts your chin up with her finger, forcing you to meet her gaze.

“Are you sure about that?” she asks, her eyes locked on yours. The intensity of her gaze makes your pulse quicken, and for a second, you forget how to breathe.

You nod, but it’s clear you’re no longer in control of the situation. Natasha’s lips curl into a smirk, and she leans in, her lips brushing your ear as she whispers, “Good. Because I like it when you squirm.”

Her words send a jolt of electricity through you. You’re not sure if it’s her touch, her voice, or the way she’s looking at you like she knows exactly what she’s doing to you.

And she knows it really well.

You’re still trying to gather yourself when Natasha takes the spoon from your hand, her fingers brushing against yours in a way that makes your heart skip. She looks at the pumpkin, then back at you with a glint in her eyes, the playful energy between you two thickening.

“You’re struggling with this, huh?” she teases, holding the spoon as if she’s still considering whether it’ll do the job.

“I’ve got it,” you protest weakly, but your voice isn’t convincing—especially not with the way your pulse is racing.

Natasha tilts her head, watching you for a moment before slowly shaking her head. “I don’t think this spoon is going to cut it,” she says, her voice low. She tosses the spoon aside, the soft clink barely registering in your mind. “Sometimes, you just have to get in there with your hands, really dig deep to get what you want.”

Your breath hitches as she grabs your hand, pulling it toward the pumpkin. Her fingers wrap around yours, warm and strong, and you feel her body shift even closer until her chest is lightly pressed against your back. The contact is intoxicating, her presence swallowing you up. She leans down, her lips hovering just over your ear.

“Don’t be shy,” she whispers, her voice sultry. “You were so eager to get in deep, weren’t you?”

The teasing tone sends a shiver through you, and you nod without thinking, too distracted by the way her breath feels hot against your skin. Natasha's fingers tighten around yours as she guides your hand into the pumpkin, her body pressing closer.

“Like this,” she murmurs, her lips brushing your ear. Her hand covers yours as you both reach into the hollowed pumpkin. The sensation of the cool, squishy insides mixes with the heat of her touch, making it hard to focus on anything but the feel of her against you.

She chuckles softly when she feels your hand tremble under hers. “Getting messy already?” she teases, her voice like velvet. “I told you, you’ve got to get all the way in… can’t just half-ass it.”

You swallow hard, trying to keep up with her banter, but it’s impossible to think clearly when she’s this close. Natasha slowly pulls your hand deeper into the pumpkin, her breath now warm on your neck.

“You need to scoop it all out,” she whispers, her lips grazing your skin as she speaks. “Get every last bit. Can’t leave anything behind, right?” There’s a clear double meaning in her words, and it’s not lost on you. The tension is unbearable, but somehow thrilling.

You try to respond, but your voice fails you, caught in your throat as her fingers slide over yours, helping you scoop out more of the pumpkin’s insides. Your breathing is shaky, and Natasha's grip tightens as she senses your hesitation.

“What’s wrong? Not so confident now, are you?” Her voice is teasing but hushed, like a secret only the two of you share. “You know, I love seeing you like this… so quiet, so obedient. It’s a nice change from all that sass earlier.”

You try to say something - anything, but all that comes out is a shaky breath. Natasha’s chuckle is low, the sound vibrating against your back.

“That’s what I thought,” she whispers, her lips just grazing your ear again. “All that talk, and now look at you… completely at my mercy.”

You feel her hand shift slightly, her fingers curling tighter around yours as you both pull a handful of pumpkin guts from the inside. The squelching sound fills the silence, but all you can focus on is how close she is, how her lips are almost brushing against your skin.

Natasha pulls your hand out of the pumpkin, still holding it in hers, the sticky pumpkin innards clinging to your fingers. She leans in even closer, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “See? Isn’t it better when you just let me take control?”

Your heart pounds, and you can’t help but nod. She smirks, obviously pleased with your reaction, and gently squeezes your hand, letting the pumpkin flesh fall to the table.

“You’re such a mess,” she murmurs, her voice a tantalizing mix of teasing and affection. “But I like it. You’re cute when you squirm.”

You bite your lip, trying to hold back the rush of nervous energy that’s overtaken you. Natasha turns your hand over in hers, inspecting the sticky mess on your fingers with a thoughtful look.

“Guess we’ll have to clean this up, huh?” she muses, her eyes flicking up to meet yours. The smirk that spreads across her lips is wicked, and you know she’s not just talking about the pumpkin. She´s talking about the mess between your legs too.

Her thumb brushes over your knuckles, her touch sending another wave of heat through you. She leans in, her breath once again warm on your neck as she whispers, “Next time, maybe we can skip the pumpkins… and just get messy with each other.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and before you can even think of a response, she presses a soft kiss just below your ear, the contact so light, but enough to make your knees go weak.

In the end, it wasn’t just the pumpkins Natasha worked her hands through.

Thank you for reading!

#adele writes #kinktober2024 #marvel fanfiction #marvel universe #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff

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sparkdigitalsblog · 8 months ago

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kissingghouls · 4 months ago

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Affection - The Count

a one-shot from the Suck Club universe.

Dracopia x Female Reader (aka The Countess) // ao3 link

To celebrate The Count's second birthday I wrote a little thing for the lovebirds who sparked an entire series. Spoiler alert: they're still in love ♥ The Count // ao3

Tags: NSFW, 18+ MDNI, SMUT SMUT SMUT, vampire violence, blood, blood drinking, glove kink, p in v sex. 1700 words.

Copia knows this is your favorite game to play with him. It’s his favorite too, if he’s honest. A welcome and lovely little distraction from those dramatic family emergencies that have become increasingly regular these days. Par for the course, he supposes, with a damned and immortal bloodline. But none of that is happening here tonight. No, tonight his focus is only on you.

You. Intoxicating. Hypnotizing. Dressed in red and lace. It’s a wonder he was able to have any restraint with you at all.

There’s a feeling deep in his gut, something akin to hunger but a hundred times filthier. Perverted. He gets like this when he watches you, moving your body like that. That slow, performative sway of your hips designed to attract attention. You always were a fucking natural—the prettiest and deadliest little thing he’d ever seen. He watches intently, lip caught between his teeth as you spin your silk, weaving a web so beautiful no one would ever suspect it’s a trap.

Oh, he loves you like this. Loves when you feign that wide-eyed look of innocence and toss it over your shoulder solely for his benefit. His cock twitches in anticipation, half-hard just from the thrill of watching you hunt like this. But it’s not the time, not the place.

Not yet anyway.

The teasing is just as good as it is agonizing, but you’re always so careful with your selections. Gifted, he thinks. The way you’re able to seek them out is nothing short of a gift. For him or you or his family, he isn’t sure, but he’s grateful all the same. After all, you wear it well. You look irresistible covered in the blood of your enemies.

He’s practically panting when you finally give him the signal and lead your prey away from the crowd.

The night air is cold and bitter. It smells of snow and gasoline, the grit of the city streets piled high along the boulevard. Copia slips his tight leather gloves over his hands to stave off the bite of arctic air, breath forming foggy puffs as he quietly follows you and your chosen guest to the rendezvous point. He slides into the shadows, biting his lip and waiting. You coax a young woman into the back of the limo with a playful yet sinister laugh that stirs something animalistic within him.

He carefully approaches the vehicle with a quick nod toward the driver—a cleverly disguised Ghoul who doesn’t speak much and asks even fewer questions. There’s an extra spring in his step as he gracefully swings open the car door.

The interior lights make your face look gaunt as you guiltily stare up at him. A small trail of blood trickles down the woman’s neck, beading in the slope of her collarbone. Her heart begins to race as she finally realizes who she’s up against. Her cries go unheard as Copia slides into the car.

“Dolcezza. Darling,” he huffs. “You started without me?”

Caught with your hand in the proverbial cookie jar, you slowly pull away from the woman’s neck. You give him another one of those wide-eyed looks, blood-stained lips fixed in a pout. “I was so hungry. I’m sorry, my love.”

Below you the terrified woman whimpers and kicks her feet, trying to free herself. It’s a futile effort; there is no hope of escape or survival between the two of you, but that is the nature of the game. You’ve become so adept at collecting so-called hunters that he can only admire your conviction.

The car pulls away from the curb and joins the bustling city traffic, flashes of neon lights reflecting on the deeply tinted windows.

“There’s no need to apologize, amore,” he assures you and presses a kiss to your temple. “I can see you had your hands full.”

“She was mouthy,” you offer, almost daring the woman to speak. “And she’s armed—well, she was. She tore my dress.”

He clicks his tongue, running a hand over the ripped fabric. “Pity. I liked this one.”

“You like all of them.”

“On you,” he agrees and pulls you into his lap. There is a bit of awkward wiggling to get you in the position he wants without you letting go of your prey, but the two of you eventually manage and settle into a comfortable exchange. He wastes no time slipping a hand under your skirt to trace his gloves on your inner thigh. You arch into him, pressing your back to his chest as you grind against his rapidly hardening cock.

“Seems like you may have started something without me,” you tease.

“I can’t help it,” he admits and lets out a slow, measured breath as you lean down to jerk the woman’s head to the side. You rip into her throat, moaning lasciviously as blood fills your mouth. “I crave you, amore mio. Always.”

“You have me, my love,” you remind him. You pull away from the woman and twist awkwardly to press your lips to his. “For eternity, remember?”

He sighs contently. “Do you think that will be long enough?”

“Hmm, for us? Probably not.”

“Ah, well—.”

The woman gagged and groaned beneath you, drawing your attention away from Copia.

“You go ahead, amore. Insatiable, you are.”

You gave him a soft, loving smile before returning to your prey with a renewed ferocity. While you devour the poor vampire hunter, Copia lets his fingers brush over your center. The lacy fabric barely covering you is already soaked through with your eternal and sinful need for him. He pushes the material to the side, slipping a gloved finger between your folds. You writhe and moan as he works you open with the slow draw of his hands. It’s his turn to play the game now—a give and take you happily accept with soft sighs and breathy whispers of his name. He spreads his legs beneath you, forcing your own to open more for him as he works his other hand over your clit. You can’t help but grind down on his fingers to chase your own bliss, the greedy little vampire you are, but he stops you with a growl.

“Be good,” he warns, knowing your cunt will tighten at the words. He swallows a low moan as you tense around him and leans in close to your ear. “Finish your meal, dolcezza.”

With a grin you do as he says, pressing your fangs into the woman’s throat one last time. Blood spills into your mouth, life draining from her veins with each slow beat of her heart. Copia uses the distraction to unzip your dress, tracing his tongue over your spine as he frees you from the pretty fabric.

He struggles beneath you, clothes rustling as he rushes to free himself from an overly elaborate ensemble. You drop the body a second before the heart stops, leaning forward enough for Copia to get his pants around his ankles.

He gives you a light smack on the ass before pulling you back down. The blunt head of his cock slips between your slick folds, both of you moaning loudly as he bumps your clit.

“Amore,” he purrs as he lines himself up against your entrance. “Let me take you, amore. Let me keep you forever, sì?”

You nod enthusiastically as he pushes in, your walls fixed so perfectly around him. He grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back to sink his fangs into your throat. It floods his senses, the salt of your skin and the sweet taste of your blood. Oh Satan, he is addicted to you in every way. A goddess he was made to worship. A temptress sent from Hell. Whatever you are, he will build you an altar and lay at your feet until the end of time. Perhaps even longer, he thinks, burying his cock to the hilt. If the universe permits it.

He gives in, surrendering all he is and swearing himself to you again and again. Maybe that’s why he loves this game as much as he loves you. You gave him a purpose beyond living like a mythical beast, some grotesque monster locked away in a castle.

You cry out so beautifully as he grabs your hips and angles you over the seat. His fingers press bruises into your soft skin as he fucks you rough and deep in the back of a moving car. He can’t help but smile at the thought. You’ve taught him how to enjoy such modern conveniences, introduced him to wonderful toys, erotic literature, and something you called the mile high club—an experience that was much more terrifying than he’d like to admit. And more than anything, you’ve taught him about love. Showed him what it means to be cared for unconditionally, faults and all. You accept him for all that he is, good and bad. Monster or man.

He knows that little whine in your voice well enough by now, knows to slow down and circle his hips a bit until he finds that spot again and again until you completely come undone. He loves that sound. He’d do anything for that sound and his name on your lips as you come apart beneath him.

He pulls out and gives you a few moments to come down, easing you both into a more comfortable position. Next time, he thinks, he will fuck you nice and slow if you want. Take his time to trace the curves of your body, to taste your skin and bring you to ecstasy with his tongue. But you press your fangs into his neck with your hand between your legs and he knows that isn’t what you want right now.

He lines himself up again and you sink down, moaning so loud while still drawing blood from his veins. He mutters a thousand expletives in a dozen languages as you fuck him and feed on him. He can’t imagine a more perfect eternity than this, doesn’t want to. He wraps his arms around you and kisses you sweetly as the two of you come together in an infinite number of eternities, each exactly like this. Sticky, sweaty, a little bit bloody, and full of a love he never thought he deserved. One he never dared to dream he’d find. Instead, you found him.

#suck club forever #copia x reader #dracopia x reader #papa emeritus iv x reader #vampire copia x reader #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost band fanfic #reader insert #x reader #female reader #18+ mdni #mdni

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bad-and-drawn-that-way · 1 year ago

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Another Vox enthusiasts I see? Well if I may...

Vox with a GN Hacker reader who was turned entirely digital after manifesting in hell. They don’t even have a physical form they’re completely stuck within Hell’s databases, their skills are obviously useful to him so he offers them a place on the team which they immediately accept on the condition that Vox makes them a vessel to inhabit because holy shit are they going stir crazy.

I’m not entirely sure how Vox’s abilities work but given he can at the very least project himself onto screens and the like I get the feeling that he’d plug himself into the system whenever they talk. Mostly because it keeps them grounded, they’re alot calmer when he’s actually next to them and not looking in through a screen.

I hope this didn’t get too wordy or long I just wanted to be thorough because I have massive brain rot for this techno mf-

Take your time with this request! Kisses darling <3

-📽

Dude, does anyone else remember having Shimeji's or that internet episode from Fairly Odd Parents? Cause that's what I'm about to write!

Digital Pet [Vox x Digital Reader]

When you first manifested in Hell, you were completely unaware that you had ended up in Hell itself. Because instead of manifesting in the overcrowded circle designated for sinners, you instead found yourself in a digital landscape. Countless screens surrounded you like a million portals. You could see the different shapes and sizes of the devices being used in hell and could even alter whether or not you saw what was being displayed on the screen or what the screen could see itself like a window to Hell.

At first, you had a massive meltdown. From what you could tell, you were the only one in this digital Hell custom-tailored to leave you isolated despite having access to every device in Hell. You wondered what you did to deserve the extra punishment layered on top of not being good enough for heaven, especially since you hadn't done anything particularly evil when you were alive.

You lost track of how much time passed. You entertained yourself by jumping from system to system. You'd watch shows that sinners binged, and you'd watch the city from large advertisement screens that overlooked the sinner's circle of Hell. Anything to stave off the loneliness.

One day, that all changed when you felt an electric buzz make the hairs on the back of your neck stand. You heard the voice of someone swearing and immediately pulled yourself away from the screen you had been sticking your nose into. When you turned, you saw another demon who was still sparking with some bright electric energy as he dusted himself off.

For a moment the two of you just stared at each other in shock. As far as you and Vox knew, you were the only ones who could access the digital realm of Hell's database. Vox is immediately wary, but you are thrilled as you approach him quickly.

"H-Hi, oh my god!" you breathe as you look him over. He didn't look new to Hell, but you had never seen anyone else in the same pocket of space as you before. "Did you just die? Have you seen anyone else? Did you just get here? It's been so long since I saw another person that wasn't on a screen!"

Vox blinked as you rapid-fired questions at him. He looked you over as you rambled something about the irony of his face being a screen when he finally shook his head and held up a hand to stop you.

"Woah, woah, woah, slow down," he started. "What are you talking about? How are you even here? No one else should be able to traverse through the database of Hell but me."

Vox's interest only grows as you explain your situation. "I see," he hummed as he looked you over with new intrigue. "I wonder if you have similar abilities to mine and just got caught in the in-between..."

It was easy enough for him to lure you into a deal. The sheer amount of panic you expressed when he pretended he was going to just leave you there was hilarious at the time. In exchange for you "surfing the web" for him, so to speak, he took you on as an apprentice of sorts. Vox trained your abilities and helped you hone your magic. While you had every hope of one day figuring out how to manifest in the physical realm the way he did, Vox cleverly avoided any pursuit of the possibility.

He liked having full power over you and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't starting to grow attached. While you hadn't learned anything about manifesting physically, you had learned how to appear on his screens. He'd never admit it to you out loud, but he found the tiny image of you running around on his devices and talking with him to be pretty damn adorable.

Despite his manipulation, the two of you actually slowly became friends. He found himself genuinely proud of you whenever you popped up to show him something new you had learned. There was a weird warm and fuzzy feeling in his chest when you would bounce with excitement at your new discoveries.

Sometimes you'd ask him to play a certain show or song for you. Even after you learned how to control inactive devices so you could look up anything you wanted, you still liked to ask him to play things for you just so you could watch them in his presence. You'd send memes to each other and Vox had to quickly excuse himself when you sent him a crudely drawn image of Alastor slipping on a banana peel while he was in the middle of giving a presentation at a meeting.

Vox was emotionally constipated, but he wasn't stupid. He could tell that the warm feeling in his chest was growing and he knew you were the source. He clutched his chest as he stepped into his lair and saw you sleeping on his desktop toolbar, waiting for him to come home after a long day at work. He had promised you that you'd watch the new episode of a show you'd been watching together, but his gameshow had run late.

He sits down with a sigh and traces over your sleeping form, feeling something twist inside of him as his claw only met with the cold, flat surface of a screen. He wondered what it would be like to hold you. To touch you. To have you in his arms while the two of you lay on the couch while you made him watch stupid shows instead of...

"Fuck," Vox whispered to himself as he pulled away from the innocent image of you. He clutched his face as he slumped forward in his chair. He had a decision to make.

And so do you, dear readers! I want to make a part two to this, the real question is:

#vox x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel vox

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amarynthian-chronicles · 9 months ago

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A Game of Light and Shadows

Sebastian Solace x Reader

Simple pleasures had become a luxury for him a long while ago. Something as simple as lighting a cigarette, relishing the rush it gave to his tormented mind, the flickering flame of his golden lighter creating a playful display of shadows on the walls.

He took a long drag, enjoying the peace of his own company. A semblance of normalcy.

Sebastian was balancing a book in his other hand, his esca glowing enough for him to read. The pages were not in an enviable condition, having survived various disasters before haphazardly ending up in his little makeshift shop. "The Count of Monte Cristo". How ironic. How fitting.

Perhaps it offered a distorted form of comfort. A fragile hope that the wrongfully accused hero could indeed escape his prison and reclaim his destiny. A spark in darkness. And yet, cruel fate had made him unable to withstand proper light. Was he truly condemned to the underworld forever?

A familiar noise in the corner of the room. Sebastian had become so accustomed to your little "visits". His darling little nuisance, his silly little spark, haunting him in the depths.

You stood there in the penumbra, a sly smile gracing your features.

Your inexperience had transformed into skill, your fear morphing into bitter courage. You had become so confident, so strong. He had made you into such a magnificent creature, all according to his design and his plans. He would have you one day.

"Low on supplies, babes? You know the rules, take what you need and leave the required payment. Forgive me for not being a gracious host today."

"Actually, I am here to offer you a gift. Something to thank you for being my guardian angel."

"Is that so? There is no such things as gifts, babes. What do you want?"

You simply approached him, holding up a little bag for him to see. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to perform whatever trick you had in store. To his surprise, you produced a little package of ground coffee and two mugs.

"I did notice you have a water boiler here, so I was thinking that maybe we could enjoy something nice and warm together. How does that sound?"

So silly. The hopeful spark in your eyes, the sweet tone of your voice. Even after all the hardships you had endured, and all the changes you had undergone in order to survive into a proper warrior, that tiny bit of whimsy remained. Sebastian could not help but grin, tapping the ash from his cigarette into a nearby tray.

"Despair is a terrible thing, you know. It makes you seek the company of monsters. Loneliness pushes you into the arms any wicked creature in the vicinity, just to feel some sort of comfort."

"Oh, come on, Seb. Don't be so dramatic and have some coffee with me. Is it so outrageous that I simply wish to be your friend? Please? Just a little cup of coffee with me? You can show me what you are reading, as well."

Sweetling, creature of daylight. If moths were attracted to the light, were butterflies attracted to darkness? Perhaps he should indulge your request. It would be one step closer to his web, having your loyalty at his disposal.

He finished his cigarette and placed the book down, taking your bag. A few minutes later, his lair had the scent of freshly brewed coffee permeating the air. How domestic, how lovely. Perhaps, when all was over, he could make this bliss a reality with you. He could build a home with you.

You made a happy hum as you slowly sipped on the warm drink. It did wonders for the senses, awakening and sharpening them. You were about to compliment Sebastian's coffee-making skills, but you suddenly felt a pair of strong arms pull you upwards onto his lap. You felt warmth in your cheeks as Sebastian placed a clawed finger under your chin.

"Now, babes, how about we do some reading together, hm?"

He reached for his book once more and adjusted his position, making sure to continue having his arms around you. You made yourself comfortable, listening to his soft purrs, embraced by his soft darkness. A gentle kiss was placed on your cheek and your neck. You were happy.

#sebastian solace x you #sebastian solace x reader #sebastian solace #sebastian pressure #roblox pressure #sebastian solace roblox #amary's chronicles

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rc-catalog · 3 months ago

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At long last, we finally commence the Creator of the Month event! Without further ado, we present to you a short interview with @webanglikethat, March COTM winner, from which you can get to know her better. Congratulations JB!

Enjoy!

INTRODUCE YOURSELF

hi everyone!! I’m really exicited to be the first creator to be represented 🥺 you may call me JB and I’m 19 years old! I go by she/him pronouns and I’m a desi italian 🫶🏽

WHEN DID YOU JOIN ROMANCE CLUB?

2022-11-04, which I could’ve never guessed! I thought I’d started playing mid 2023. according to my gallery, my first stories were chasing you and heaven’s secret! the fandom I joined way later, and that’s how I never understood why sometimes my choices were ‘free’ aka Diamond Rush – I thought I bypassed something 😭 seeing the reddit fandom explained a lot haha !

HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN CREATING?

for the RC fandom specifically, I started creating in May 2024 when I made a Ram edit! before that, I was mostly posting about RC on my Instagram stories and editing them, sharing my thoughts, and occasionally ranting about the characters. I actually had another Tumblr account before this one, but it was focused on different fandoms. at some point, I stumbled across the RC Tumblr community, and at first, I just lurked, reading posts and getting a feel for the fandom. I loved seeing everyone’s discussions, edits, and writing, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to jump in just yet. eventually, though, I decided I wanted to be part of it, so I made this account for two reasons: first, to fully immerse myself back into Tumblr (aka I forgot the password to the OG account lmao / but I did remember it!), and second, to actually engage with the RC fandom rather than just observing from the sidelines.

in general, probably since I was 11-12 for the kpop fandom, which I’m still actively doing !! my passion for creating just keeps evolving and it’s crazy how the things I started with have led me to where I am now !! I’m always pushing myself to try new things and level up my skills and the way I express myself has definitely evolved over the years. I started off with small edits, and random posts, and over time, I got more confident in sharing my work. I’ve written a bunch of poems, edited a lot of stories/videos and I’ve picked up moodboards and graphic design again! the RC fandom has been such a fun and welcoming space, and I love being able to contribute to it (✿◠‿◠)

DO YOU REMEMBER YOUR FIRST EVER CREATION?

for the rc fandom? it was a ram video edit (insert link) but if we are saying in general, it was probably one of those kpop profile pictures with heart crowns lmao! I was 11 or 12, experimenting with filters and thinking I was so cool — looking back at it now, it’s cringy, but it was the start of everything. and who says cringe can’t be good? normalize being cringe !! normalize growth !! those little edits sparked something that I’ve carried with me ever since! after that, I started making moodboard edits for kpop artists and umh, here I shall expose myself just for you guys lmaoo. these are the first few “'edits”’ I found from my archived posts (no, I never finished teen wolf …) (yes, I still make seunghyun content).

CHOOSE 3-5 OF YOUR FAVOURITE WORKS AND RAMBLE AWAY!

there’s a lot of creations that I’m thinking of! one of the hardest was probably the two part web weave I made of cainlane for a friend at the time, but it’s definitely not my fave

my jayniecarter web weave is a really important creation for me. I don’t remember exactly when I got the idea, but even within the first five episodes of 7B, Jaynie’s storyline hit me hard; her role as the oldest and only daughter that everyone relied on and how everyone just expected her to push away all of her plans to be there to fix the problems caused by everyone else. there was something so raw and so real about her struggles and the way she carried so much weight on her shoulders, often without acknowledgment that it made me really pause. it was supposed to be a funny little story but it turned into so much more. I found myself deeply relating to her — her imposter syndrome, her sense of responsibility, and that feeling of being stretched too thin while trying to be everything for everyone. some chapters were genuinely difficult to read because they felt so personal, almost like I was looking into a mirror. at first, I wasn’t sure how to process those feelings. it’s one thing to read something that resonates with you, but another to actually put those emotions into words. that’s when I started thinking about the best way to express it, and I landed on making a web weave. I’ve always loved the way web weaves allow for layered storytelling — how they can bring together different pieces of media, emotions, and themes into something cohesive. it felt like the perfect medium to explore Jaynie’s journey, not just as a character, but as an experience that so many people can relate to. I started by gathering all my screenshots — Carter scenes, moments where Jaynie’s imposter syndrome was on full display, her struggling with the expectations placed on her, and the way she felt like her first year of college wasn’t turning out the way it was “supposed” to and that the experience had been robbed from her. from there, I began thinking about songs and other pieces of media that resonated with those emotions. I wanted to find lyrics that captured that overwhelming pressure of being the person others depend on, that deep-rooted insecurity of feeling like you’re never quite doing enough, even when you are. the process was honestly a mix of research and instinct—some songs immediately came to mind because they just fit, while others took time to find. I also pulled quotes from books, movies, and shows that carried similar themes of responsibility, burnout, and the complicated emotions that come with being an eldest daughter. one of the best song to describe Jaynie and Carter imo is ESOEMOEHOED by Leanna Firestone, so that was the first thing I did, along with 'this is me trying’ by Taylor Swift. some of the photos included are actually taken by me! there is a quote by a book I really like, 'Final Offer’ that made it into the final draft “You always deserved better than me.” / “No. I deserved better from you.” aside from the angst, I also wanted to portray the amazing love a sister has for her brother, so I looked through my pinterest board and found comments people, mostly sisters, left on how they loved their siblings, how they felt like they didn’t exist until they arrived. while Jaynie and Carter’s journey is undoubtedly hard and complex, that doesn’t erase the love, and that was something I wanted to make sure wasn’t lost. one little detail I really liked was, when choosing Hansel and Gretel photos, they were always holding hands! and isn’t that siblinghood? holding hands through all of the shit the world puts you through? the certainty of that warm hold? honestly, putting the web weave together was both fun and unexpectedly emotional. it was therapeutic in a way I didn’t expect and I’m glad it also resonated with the ones who saw it!

My Nova and religious guilty web weave: this one was something I planned almost from the start! I started playing wt:c for my friend andy’s birthday so she could finally talk to me about it. the obvious religious guilt / religious trauma topic stood out to me and I began gathering screenshots as I played. as a girlie who can relate to those kinds of feeling, I was sooo excited to edit this !! from the start, I knew I wanted to turn this into a web weave. I started reading articles, researching people’s thoughts on reddit / quora / any website of that sort, trying to gather their feelings. one of the best sources was an article that began with

'Let me ask you this — have you ever felt like faith was supposed to be a comfort, but instead, it turned into a burden?’,

written by Gary L Ellis. I read that and thought, damn I struck the goldmine! I’m heading in the right direction! honestly, this one was easier to edit because I already had a lot of photos of this topic saved from my previous luke castellan web weaves and some genshin screenshots (the wanderer’s iconic line of 'the first to betray me was a god, my creator … my mother’). it was also easier because I had been gathering screenshots as I played instead of thinking about it later. that saved a lot of time. another line that really fit perfectly was

“I was raised Catholic,” he began. “But you’re not now?” the judge asked, frowning. “No,” he said. He had worked for years to keep the apology out of his voice when he said this.”

and that made me even more excited because everything was fitting together so well !! another obvious source was going to be, 'Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve’ by Taylor Swift, a song about grooming and religious guilt which ugh, Nova would SOOO relate to. overall, I believe this took me less than a week to edit! maybe 3-4 days? I was so excited that I stayed up late editing, and I’m honestly really proud of it. I’d love to make a part two in the future!

my jaynie-ray web weave: it’s been a long time coming – is how I would describe this one. I made it for the catalog’s 14 days of love event and I knew I wanted to choose these two for the platonic prompt. their relationship is so important to me 🥺 their bond is not just a promise of 'I’ll be there’, it’s a certainty. it’s something so much deeper, that it’s impossible to unravel. my main source for this one was my favourite book, 'Happy Place’ by none other than my mother Emily Henry! if you like crying and found family, give it a read ( •̀ .̫ •́ )✧ what really stuck with me, while reading about Ray, was the way Ray’s story doesn’t just expose the pain of being kicked out but also highlights the power of acceptance!! I can’t even begin to explain how much that meant to me. so many stories about queer trauma focus solely on the suffering, and while that’s important, 7B goes beyond that. it doesn’t just show the pain of rejection but it shows the love that comes after. the way Ray finds a new family, a new support system, people who actually love and accept them, is so important. because yes, being rejected by your family is devastating. but what makes it bearable is finding the people who choose you. I wanted to make their relationship justice and hopefully I did <3 I once again used photos I took myself (the quote from the seven husbands of evelyn hugo) and honestly, this one was so easy because I can relate to their friendship as I’ve found it in my best friend Kelly, and I already have like hundreds of photos/quotes/media pieces saved on friendship and found family! honestly teared up a few times making this.

my audrey-deviya web weave: I could not answer this interview without mentioning my wife deviya, could I? this one is recent, so you’d think I remember how or why I made this but honestly, my memory is really bad! I think I screenshotted a few things while playing the old abh update and I was like, wait, that’s sacrificial lamb coded! and who is THE original one? deviya. I knew in that moment I wanted to connect their journeys, to depict their roles as both a weapon and a shield, as a human but also a tool. there were many similarities. – one of the most painful ones was I noticed how both of them die/almost die feeling like they hadn’t lived enough. there’s this lingering sense of unfinishedness, this deep grief over the life they weren’t allowed to have. it’s heartbreaking. their stories reinforce the idea that their blood is almost worth more than their existence, that they need to bleed in order to be important. this was a little harder to edit because I had to go through abh walkthroughs on youtube because I had never screenshotted her dialogues from this point of view! my friend vee was kind enough to send me a few screenshots she had, which saved me so much time !! and they were SO helpful too, I could build a whole edit out of them alone. aside from gathering screenshots, I had no issues because sacrificial lamb is part of yet another pinterest board I have. I hope I did Audrey justice! I’m not an ABH girlie, my focus is on KFS, so hopefully I got her character well !!

now that I mentioned sacrifice and blood, I HAVE to talk about Amala. so I have two versions of my Amala web weave; purple and red. this one I made because I was joking in a discord server about how I was going to make a web weave if my friend Mira (@a-cloud-for-dreams) wasn’t gonna stop sending sad Amala screenshots. we were all joking around until I was like, well … eldest daughter angst? and every other desi girlie in the discord server was like WELL YES ! so I immediately started editing cause when you get a bunch of girls asking you to do something, you do it (follow for more life advices).

I felt a lot of pressure making this one because it had been a while since I played KCD and I had never closely looked at Amala’s character. Mira was able to give me 99% of the screenshots included in my post and, while I struggled with Amala’s character, I didn’t struggle with her characterization – does that make sense? she’s the eldest daughter who takes care of everyone, who puts her own needs aside and is struggling between her indian and english side (something that sooo many immigrant children, me included, can relate to). from there, it was easy to gather photos because again, I have a bunch of pinterest boards on topic of being the older sister, the third parent and the immigrant guilt! I had the most fun editing the last photo !!!

I’m very shy about my writing so I purposefully decided to highlight my webweaves 😭 but here are some of my fanfictions: -> if you wanted avery to be a love interest, I got a fic for you ( •̀ .̫ •́ )✧ The taste of your lips is my idea of luxury is one of my proudest works. it was hard to get Avery’s voice right because he has very little screentime (I screenshotted every scene in which he spoke) and at some point I gave up, so if you find it OOC just close your eyes lmaoo. -> did you want Vyxaria to talk to Walter about Xantheia? do you cry to peace by taylor swift? don’t look further then! Lonely winter, cradle my heart explores angsty Vyxaria -> do you instead want to break your heart by having unrequited!Walter and brokenhearted!Vyxaria x Xantheia? Thalassophile, do you remember our crestfallen hearts? awaits you ! for more, look at my masterlist!

#romance club #rc catalog event #rc catalog cotm #creator of the month

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tourturestarradio · 10 months ago

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𝐒𝐄𝐀 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Pairing: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji (more added later) x Mermaid reader!

Prompt: After your family jewels were stolen you were determined to get them back joining you closest friend Monkey D. Luffy on his adventure to become the king of the pirates.

Warnings: none, this follows the live action!!

Part 1

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮

⋆｡°✩ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚★⋆｡˚ ⋆ ┊ ┊ ┊ ⋆ ┊ ┊ ★⋆ ┊ ◦ ★⋆ ┊ . ˚ ˚★

𝐒𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓 my brothers I swam around to find the secret room, my father was as usual out doing important man stuff whatever that was...I got to the door placing my hand on it, I wondered how my dad even got that purple glow. I focused hard onto the door, squeezing my eyes shut "work dang it!"

I focused as hard as I could a light blue glow formed around my hands causing the heavy door to seemingly unlocked, smiling widely I stared at hands "it worked!" I pushed open the door and saw a line of necklaces.

Mines being all the way at the end, I swam up to it looking at all our different necklace designs.

They all had the same gem stone they were just different colors. I ran my fingers across my necklace picking it up carefully.

I swam out of the room closing the door behind me, I quickly swam out of the house and up to the surface to where me and Luffy would hang out on the docks.

I slid the necklace on, I didn't feel any different whatsoever. I looked down at my tail and saw well, my tail. Not a single leg in sight, I rubbed the necklace "hm maybe it isn't magi-" I saw a light green spark "huh?" the water started to swirl around me light green sparks zapping around my tail.

I started to grow dizzy as the water spun me around, but oddly enough I felt my tail start to separate into two my flipper shrinking in size and my scales disappearing. I squeezed my eyes shut as the bubbles flared up into my face, I looked down as the bubbles stopped.

And I saw...legs! actual human legs!! I climbed onto the docks, I tried to stand up but my legs wobbled and I fell down "aha! I have legs!" I still had my fins but they were smaller and the webbing in between my fingers was gone and my normal (f/c) skin looked blotchy some patches of skin were a (s/c) while others were (f/c). My father had told me about it but I had time remembering what it was called.

It was similar to what humans experienced called vitiligo.

I looked back down to my legs wiggling my toes, I tried standing up again, I stood up straight my legs wobbling "o-ok making progress..." I took a step forward and fell flat on my face "ow..."

"Oi, you need help...uh walking?" I looked up and saw one of shanks crew mates, had brown skin and a blonde afro, I nodded "aren't you Luffy's little pirate queen?" he asked, could feel my fins warm up "u-um yes" he tilts his head, he pulled me up to my feet holding the back of my dress.

Wait I had clothes? I had a swimsuit that looked like a dress, I held the back of the males pants stumbling trying to walk "right foot....then left foot...right foot then...left foot..." I mumbled, I wobbled with every step but hey! At least I was walking!

As we walked I saw so many different people! Big, small, short, tall, pretty, ugly, it was very exciting!

"Oi Luffy guess what fish grew legs!" I heard the taller male exclaim, I peeked from behind his leg I saw Luffy sitting down looking sad a few stitches under his eye. He tilted his head but his eyes lit up as he saw me standing I waved to him. He jumped down from his seat and ran over to me tackling me down into a hug.

"You have legs!" he smiles widely, I smiled back nodding "they're hard to use though..." Luffy held my hands "here i'll help you!" we both began walking I followed his walking pattern.

He had a cheeky grin on his face "see it's not so hard is it?" we walked around the small bar a green haired woman looking down at the two of us with a smile.

Letting go of me he exclaimed "hey wait look what I can do!" Lifting his arm the woman cut in "Luffy no." he frowned and dropped his arm. I rubbed his back "well m-maybe you could show me around?"

Luffy brightened up tremendously "yeah! come on let's go!" he tried to run off but I wasn't used to moving too quickly and toppled over on top of him "s-sorry!" my fins glowed as I stumbled off of him. He sat up his cheeks dusted light pink, but he still got up and held my hand helping me walk.

Eventually he let go of my hand "you should try it on your own!" I gulped "b-but what if I fall!" "come on Y/n just try it!" I shakily let go of his hand steadying myself I muttered "right foot first...then left foot...right foot...left foot"

Luffy smiled "see you're doing it!" I continued to walk around "I think I got it!" Luffy hugged me tightly "yay! I knew you could do it!" I hugged back tightly.

They two's friendship grew as strong as a rip current, nothing could truly pull the two apart. Over time the mermaid would sneak back to the surface to hang out with her only friend.

Then she suddenly just disappeared for a few months, Luffy waited for her everyday, for hours but she just didn't show up which wasn't like her at all.

He thought she just decided not to return.

Suddenly she was back, saying she had to take care of a few things for a while. Oddly enough she wouldn't return home, she'd swim around for a while but then she'd just come back up on shore.

Whenever Luffy asked about it she'd get upset and change the topic so Luffy just didn't talk about it anymore.

Growing up Luffy's brown skin got lighter but he still had a tan, his hair stayed curly, but he grew taller.

But not taller than Y/n, she grew to about 5'10 pretty tall but all that height was from her tail, the longer your tail the taller you'd be if you had legs, so it's safe to say she wasn't done growing.

Y/n looked mostly the same apart from her hair growing longer, but she grew to be a real beauty. Most people were either looking at her face or her thighs.

Another fun fact about being a mermaid, it made your thighs thicker for some weird reason. Y/n was a tad bit embarrassed about it but Luffy had utterly zero problems with it.

He quote "love how squishy they are, and they are great to lay on" but she must keep a watchful eye out. On more than one occasion he bit her thighs because they reminded him of marshmallows.

The only thing Y/n hated about being on land was the fact that she had to wear clothes! In all the time she spent as a mermaid she only ever had to wear a bathing suit top, that's it!

Apart from that she didn't need to worry about pants or skirts or shorts! But she hated the feeling of any fabric rubbing up against her legs specifically her fins that were located on the sides of her calves.

Y/n would wear short skirts, or shorts, shirts weren't really a problem for a while until, her gills stretched out a bit on her neck so anything rubbing up on that made her uncomfortable.

So she wore tank tops or tube tops, no long sleeves because once again her fins got in the way.

Speaking of the two somewhere far off in the east blue a boy with pink hair and round glasses cleaned the lower deck of a ship mildly annoyed when he heard a thumping noise and muffled voices.

"W-Wait don't move I think I can kick out the lid.."

He followed the voices to a barrel that was shaking around.

"Your legs are in the way"

"u-um Luffy can y-you move your hand"

"why? i'm only touching your thighs?"

"N-No you're n-not"

"hey look your fins are glowing!"

The pink haired boy cocked his head to the side slowly stepping closer to the now glowing barrel.

"o-ok watch your head I'm gonna kick the lid"

Just as the voice said, a hard thumping noise and suddenly the lid slammed off the top, he heard more shuffling and a head popped out, it was a boy with a straw hat.

The pink haired boy shouted and stumbled away, Luffy got out of the barrel, while Y/n pulled herself out, but not without knocking over the barrel causing her to fall over.

Crawling out Y/n dusted herself off fixing her necklace. She tried to stand at her full height but she smacked her head on the roof of the lower deck. "O-ow..." following the sound of Luffy's voice she saw him talking to a pink haired boy, he stared at her.

She smiled and waved at him, he loosely waved back. They both stopped when they heard low snoring "wait is that a sea beast?" he snickered, the boy shook his head "no it's just Alvida snoring. if you both want to get out of here it's now or never" the two followed the boy.

Peeking their head out from the lower deck Y/n, Luffy, and the boy made their way up top Y/n staying close to Luffy.

She glanced around them seeing the sleeping crew mates, the pink haired boy handed Luffy an oar as he was about to send both them off but Luffy turned "Y/n do you need-" he stopped when he accidentally smack the oar into the side of a pole causing it to ring out loudly.

Y/n panicked as the crew started to wake up, while Luffy didn't look fazed at all.

"What's going on?"

Walking up a woman most likely the captain looked at the three, her gaze stopping on the pink haired boy. "Koby what's this? you're betraying me now?" Koby stammered "n-no captain Alvida...let me explain-"

She looked over at Luffy "you're too short and scrawny to be Roronao Zoro." he smirked at her "I'm Monkey D. Luffy," she placed her white hat on "never heard of you." "well, remember that name because i'm gonna be king of the pirates."

Both her and her crew laughed, Y/n glared lightly at the woman. "You must be new around here boy. because who's the most powerful pirate on the seas?" she looked around hearing her crew mates yell out "Captain Alvida!" she looked at Koby who stood silently.

She raised a brow "I'm sorry I didn't hear you Koby? who's the most powerful pirate on the seas?" Koby gulped nervously Y/n gently pulled Koby behind her "h-he doesn't have to answer you." Y/n wanted to punch herself in the face for stuttering. Alvida looked her up and down.

Clicking her tongue she asked "who're you?" Luffy smiled over to his close friend, "I'm Y/n Angelfish and I'm gonna be Queen of the sea!" Alvida looked somewhat interested "Angelfish huh?...so there is still one of you left." Luffy looked mildly confused, but he spoke "Koby is his own man, right?" he looked at Koby "shut up,"

Alvida spoke again "no, no, no he's not. He's mine and he'll always be mine." Luffy chuckled and raised the oar up "that's not what he told me. he said you were mean, and cruel, and you're as dumb as a sea cow" poor boy was shaking like a leaf.

Alvida was fuming now she swung the spiked club at the three, they ducked down causing her to hit the side of a wooden banister.

She swung the club back around making the people around her back up seeing as she almost hit them. One of her crew mates pulled out a gun and shot Luffy but he only puffed his chest out and the bullet popped right on out.

Shocking everyone but Y/n.

"Woah that was fun."

Alvida looked confused "what kind of monster are you?" she asked swinging at him once again only for him to stretch his torso and evade her attack.

He smirked at her "the stretchy kind."

He reached his arm back stretching an abnormally long "Gum gum!" her swung his arm forward "Pistol!" punching Alvida right off the boat.

Y/n looked over the edge of the boat, "uh is she gonna be ok?" Luffy only shrugged and walked away muttering something about needing food for a few days. Y/n was going to follow him but suddenly got light headed, she gripped the side of the boat "u-uh Luffy..." he turned around.

Seeing how she wobbled he came to her side quickly "you forgot how to walk again?" he joked, Y/n let out a small dry chuckle "water..." she mumbled, Luffy nodded and helped her sit on the side of the boat while Koby watched in confusion.

That confusion changed to shock as he watched Luffy push the girl overboard. He ran over leaning over the edge "w-what did you do?!" Luffy kept his smile "don't worry she'll be okay. Trust me, now come on let go get some food."

Koby looked over the edge, he could have sworn he saw a faint green glow but it quickly disappeared. Luffy dragged him away "come on"

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮

A/n: hope you enjoyed!

#fem reader #one piece x reader #sub one piece #luffy x reader #zoro x reader #sanji x reader #black leg sanji #one piece luffy #monkey d. luffy #luffy #straw hat luffy #with: luffy #one piece sanji #vinsmoke sanji #roronoa zoro #nami #zoro #nico robin

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olis-inkwell-symposium · 6 months ago

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5 Occult Concepts That Explain the World Better Than Science

Throughout my extensive research into occult philosophy, I’ve been fortunate to gain a ton of knowledge that has truly enriched my understanding of the world. This journey has been deeply personal, as it has allowed me to explore the hidden corners of my mind and connect with a broader spiritual and philosophical landscape.

What I’ve come to realize during this time is profound: if the world weren’t so rigid and complex, we could all live and practice our lives in such diverse and meaningful ways that are truly personalized to our unique needs and desires. This realization has inspired me to seek out a more balanced and harmonious existence, one that embraces the individuality and creativity that lie within each of us. It’s also motivated me to share this knowledge with you all, hoping to spark a similar sense of wonder and empowerment in your own lives!

Now don’t get me wrong; science is brilliant at breaking things down—atoms, ecosystems, the expansion of the universe. It gives us answers, solutions, and a framework to navigate the physical world. But let’s be honest: science often trips over itself when trying to explain the messy, intangible, and deeply human parts of existence.

The cracks where logic doesn’t fit? That’s where the occult slips in. Occult philosophy thrives on the edges of understanding. It doesn’t just ask “how”—it asks “why,” “what if,” and “what does this mean for me?” While science maps reality in clean, objective terms, the occult dives into the subjective, the mysterious, and the uncomfortable truths that can’t be measured in a lab.

Here are five esoteric concepts that, in their raw and provocative nature, offer a far more compelling explanation of the world than science ever could:

1. As Above, So Below: The Reflective Nature of Reality

This phrase is a cornerstone of hermetic philosophy, a cryptic little mantra that implies the micro mirrors the macro, and vice versa. In simpler terms: the structure of the universe can be seen in the structure of a single human life.

Science has its own version of this idea in fractals and self-similarity across scales—patterns that replicate endlessly from the molecular level to the cosmic. But where science stops at structure, the occult digs deeper.

As above, so below isn’t just a reflection of patterns; it’s a commentary on how everything—your struggles, desires, and choices—ties into larger systems. Your internal chaos mirrors societal chaos. A broken relationship might reflect a deeper imbalance in your worldview. It’s not just poetic metaphor; it’s a map for self-awareness.

When science shrugs at the meaning of human patterns, the occult says, Look closer. What’s happening out there is happening in here, too.

2. The Law of Correspondence: Connection Beyond Logic

Occult philosophy insists that nothing exists in isolation. Every force, event, or idea has a counterpart. Correspondence suggests that unrelated things—symbols, objects, emotions—are part of an invisible web of connection. You lose something important, and suddenly, you’re flooded with strange coincidences that feel almost intentional.

What science brushes off as statistical anomalies, the occult embraces as part of the design. For example, synchronicity—the idea that unrelated events can feel meaningfully connected—is often dismissed by science as cognitive bias.

Yet, anyone who’s experienced these “coincidences” knows they carry a weight science can’t quantify. Correspondence doesn’t just explain why these events happen; it dares to ask what they mean. It argues that your personal reality is shaped not just by physical actions but by symbols, metaphors, and the unseen forces tying them all together.

3. The Hermetic Principle of Polarity: Duality Without Simplicity

In science, opposites are defined by contrast: positive and negative, light and dark, heat and cold. The occult, however, sees polarity not as opposition but as two ends of the same spectrum. Hot and cold, for instance, are both expressions of temperature; they’re not enemies, just different manifestations of the same underlying force.

The principle of polarity teaches that extremes are always interconnected. Love and hate, joy and grief—they aren’t separate forces battling for dominance. They’re two expressions of the same energy. This doesn’t just help explain emotional complexity; it’s a tool for navigating life. Feeling overwhelmed by fear?

Polarity suggests that courage isn’t its opposite—it’s a reframing of the same energy. Science is great at measuring extremes, but it struggles with the liminal space between them. The occult lives in that in-between, showing how the line between opposites is much thinner than it seems.

4. The Rule of Threefold Return: Consequence Beyond Physics

Karma often gets watered down into a pop-culture idea of “what goes around comes around.” But the occult’s threefold law takes it further, suggesting that every action—good, bad, or indifferent—comes back with amplified force.

Cast harm into the world, and harm returns not as punishment but as a natural ripple of that consequence. Put good into the world, and its return carries exponential weight. Science traditionally examines phenomena through straightforward cause-and-effect relationships, often focusing on linear progressions where one event leads directly to another.

However, it often struggles to capture the complex and layered nature of our decisions, which can produce effects that multiply and interact in unexpected ways. Our actions as humans don't just create simple, predictable outcomes; they can initiate chains of events that grow in complexity and impact over time, creating a web of consequences that are difficult to predict or quantify using standard scientific methods.

Why does a single act of kindness resonate so deeply? Why does unchecked anger spiral into unforeseen consequences? The occult’s perspective on consequences isn’t moralistic; it’s mechanical. This concept is as much about accountability as it is about empowerment. It forces you to think beyond the immediate result of your actions, asking: What are the ripples I’m setting in motion?

5. The Alchemical Process: Transformation as a Cycle

Alchemy is often reduced to the pursuit of turning lead into gold—a quaint historical footnote in science’s evolution. But true alchemy was never just about metal. It was—and still is—a philosophy of transformation. Lead and gold are metaphors for the self. The base material (lead) represents the parts of you that are raw, unformed, and heavy. Gold is the refined self—lighter, brighter, and forged through struggle.

Science can tell you how cells regenerate, how the brain processes trauma, how habits form. But alchemy explains the why behind transformation. It frames struggle not as a problem to be solved but as an integral part of growth.

Calcination, dissolution, and coagulation form the stages of a chemical journey that mirrors the human experience of transformation and self-discovery. The process begins with calcination, a fiery purification that strips away the unnecessary, burning away the dross to reveal the essential core beneath. This is a time of intense reflection, where one begins to cast aside the illusions and impurities accumulated over time.

Next comes dissolution, a stage of deep introspection where old structures and beliefs are broken down. It is a time for letting go of outdated habits and ideas, much like dissolving bonds that once seemed unbreakable. This phase requires courage, as it involves dismantling one's protective barriers, leaving behind comfort zones to explore the unfamiliar.

Finally, there's coagulation, the phase of reconstruction. Here, from the remnants of the past, something new and robust is forged. It's the alchemical rebirth, where a person emerges transformed, having integrated the lessons learned from the previous stages. This rebuilding is not simply a return to the original state, but an evolution into an entity more aligned with one’s true self.

Through each stage, the journey can be deeply personal, reflecting a unique path of self-awareness and growth. Calcination, dissolution, and coagulation are not merely chemical stages but serve as a profound blueprint for personal evolution, guiding one towards a deeper understanding of themselves and the world around them.

This transformative cycle encourages embracing change, fostering resilience, and celebrating the unfolding of a renewed identity. Where science provides explanations, alchemy offers profound meaning. It asserts that transformation isn’t merely possible—it’s inevitable, provided you’re willing to endure the transformative fire.

Why the Occult Makes You Ask Better Questions

Science excels at answers. It gives us the tools, cures, and frameworks to navigate the tangible. But answers, for all their value, are useless without the right questions. This is where the occult shines. It doesn’t care about tidy conclusions; it cares about pulling you deeper into the unknown, daring you to challenge what you think you understand.

Occult principles don’t aim to replace science—they simply just… fill in its gaps. They explain not just the mechanics of life but the meaning, the purpose, the strange and chaotic connections that defy logic.

They don’t seek to fix the world; they ask what the world is asking of you. And sometimes, just by asking the right question; life is far more enjoyable than always trying to find the answers.

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