#that made it really intriguing and i devoured this it was SO GOOD

[etherealyoungk]

<3

psycho | wen junhui

SYNOPSIS. in which a new patient is assigned for treatment under your care, and you begin to put the puzzles and pieces together to a past case that you thought to have ceased away from your mind. PAIRING. wen junhui x psychologist!reader (ft. nurse!seokmin) GENRE. dark au, mystery, angst, a tiny tiny subtle pinch of fluff, my very first attempt at a psychological thriller :> WARNINGS. LOTS of descriptions and talks about fire, cursing, mentions of death, a mention of cigarettes, descriptions of scars + burns, descriptions of injuries from glass, mention of blood, reader has a small habit of scratching at their arms, jun makes a suggestive comment if you take it that way WORD COUNT. 12.8k

notes: this is for the caratsland event and probably the most complex plot i've tried to execute so far jsdlkfdfsdf. thank you to @slytherinshua for reading this over for me and being my lil confidence boost 💕 feedback would be much appreciated!! pls remember this is all fictional and not at all an accurate depiction of a psychiatric facility!!

another note: also this turned out to be rlly dialogue heavy and jun asks too many damn questions in this istg lmao

PRESENT DAY: 2023

"Dr. L/N, you have a new patient assigned to you in room 610."

You don't glance up from your desk. Instead, you finish reviewing the case notes of your previous patient and nod in acknowledgment to the nurse standing in your doorway, a friendly young man named Lee Seokmin who was a recent hire, as you were told. As you hear the drop of a patient file in front of you, you lean back in your chair and finally get yourself to look up.

"Thank you, Seokmin," You tell him with a soft smile.

Seokmin grins, teeth all-flashy and cheerful. "You're welcome, doctor," before dismissing himself back out of your office.

You turn your attention to the patient file now resting on your desk. As you start to read through the notes, you see it only contains some basic information about the patient: name, age, and a brief overview of their medical and psychiatric history. It's a starting point, but you know that the real work begins when you meet the person behind the paperwork.

"Name, Moon Jun... male, age 27..." You quietly study the file to yourself. The file mentions a history of severe emotional trauma and burn scars due to a fire, which immediately catches your attention in more ways than one. It also mentions extensive facial scarring and a history of therapy that completely lacked significant progress. A part of it is a familiar story in your field𑁋it isn't uncommon for individuals to experience setbacks in their recovery.

But there's something about this patient's history that tugs oddly at your heartstrings.

As you rummage deeper into the file, you come across a brief note from a colleague who had previously assessed Moon Jun, mentioning he had been withdrawn and non-communicative during his stay, displaying anti-social behaviour, sometimes even having random bursts of aggression when approached. You take a mental note of all this in your head.

Closing the patient file, you rise from your chair and adjust the white coat draped around you, before leaving your office. You make your way through the sterile, fluorescent-lit hallways of the psychiatric facility. The environment here is all-too familiar to you; you've spent years navigating these halls. With every door you pass, there hides a different story; a different struggle; a different battle.

Upon finally reaching the room, you hesitate outside the door for a moment. The anticipation and curiosity surrounding you mixes with a touch of uncertainty, almost like fear, as they often do when meeting a new patient. You've been doing this for nearly ten years, and the feeling isn't new.

Then as you come back to your senses, you lift a hand, give a gentle knock to the door, before entering the room. It's dimly lit inside, the curtains ominously drawn on the windows to conceal the sunlight peeking through. A figure sits at the edge of the bed, back turned to you, and the hood of his hoodie pulled low over his head worn over his patient gown.

"Moon... Jun?" You call out softly, trying not to startle him.

He doesn't respond immediately, shoulders tensing at the sound of your voice. After a moment of silence, he slowly turns his head to acknowledge your presence. Half of his face is obscured by a mask, leaving only his dark eyes visible.

"Doctor," he replies gravelly.

His gaze lingers on you as you take a seat in a chair that sat against the wall next to the bed, keeping a respectful distance from him. You've encountered many patients who have initially shown distrust or apprehension, but there's an intensity in the way he looks at you that sends something chilling on the surface of your skin, especially when it's the only part of his face that you can see.

You try to break the ice with a polite smile. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Moon. My name is Dr. Y/N, and I'll be conducting our therapy sessions during your stay here. Please, make yourself as comfortable as you can."

He slowly nods, but his eyes never leave yours. The mask covering his face makes it difficult to read his expressions.

"Before we begin," You continue, clearing your throat. "I want you to know that this is a safe and confidential space. Our conversations are private, and I'm here to help you in any way I can𑁋to help you heal. You can share as much or as little as you're comfortable with."

You see the way his gloved hands clench together in his lap.

"I can't be healed," he mutters quietly, voice trembling as you sense the hopelessness in his tone. You've heard this phrase many times before during your career.

"I understand that you may feel that way right now," You reply, as soothingly as possible. "but I believe that with time and the right support, healing is possible for anyone. It's a journey, and I'm here to walk it with you. It's a process, and you don't have to go through it alone."

His gaze remains fixed on you, and the unsettling tension in the room lingers, almost palpable that you feel like there's an imaginary barrier between you and him that was enough for you to see this small part of him, while he can see all of you.

"Would you like to tell me a little bit about yourself? How do you feel coming here today?" You ask, hoping to begin the process of establishing some sort of connection.

He uncomfortably shifts a bit on the bed.

"I never wanted to come here," he says flatly. "They say this is a place of healing, but I've seen enough doctors like you. They prod and poke, dig into your past, and in the end, nothing changes. They don't know what I've been through, what I've seen. The scars, everything, they don't heal."

The words that leave his mouth are bitter and sour, yet you could only get yourself to nod sympathetically.

"It's not uncommon for people to feel that way, especially if they haven't found the right support. I want you to know that my approach is different. I'm here to listen, not to prod or poke." You glance down at the file in your hand and flip it over so that you couldn't see any information about him. "You're in control of our sessions, Mr. Moon. We can go at whatever pace you'd like."

He finally seems intrigued by this, leaning in ever so slightly, eyes devoid of colour that seemed to bore straight into yours.

"Control?" he repeats, voice still carrying a hint of skepticism.

You nod once more. "Yes, control. You get to decide what you want to talk about, what you're comfortable sharing, and at what pace. If there are topics you'd like to avoid or take your time with, that's completely okay. We can work together to create a safe space for you."

He seems to be taking in your words. "And... what if I choose not to talk at all?"

You offer a reassuring smile. "Then that's the option we can settle with."

The minutes that tick by seem dreadingly slow, and there's a light that dances in his eyes from the singular light fixture hanging above that almost resembles that of a flame. It doesn't go away even if he blinks, and it draws you in. Just a tiny bit.

"However, is there anything specific you'd like to share with me today, Mr. Moon?" You ask, trying to keep the conversation flowing. "Any thoughts or concerns you'd like to discuss?"

For a moment, it seems like he's about to speak, but then he shakes his head ever so slightly, his hooded gaze still locked onto yours.

"Very well then." You let out a very subtle, shaky breath. It felt almost relieving. Silence it is.

That's what most of the session has come to𑁋sitting in this peculiar silence, feeling his eyes burn a hole right through you. It isn't until the end of the hour that he calls out toward you just as you were about to his exit his room, and you turn back to face him.

"Can you heal me, doctor?" he asks quietly, almost begging in a way. It's unnerving.

All you do is give him a faint smile.

"I'll try my best, Mr. Moon."

FLASHBACK: 2013

"...All I could see were orange and red flames, and the smoke was hurting my eyes. I couldn't breathe𑁋just barely, but it hurt. It was painful. They were getting larger and larger and the screams louder and louder. Everything was gone."

"And what did you do while the fire kept growing?"

"I watched it all happen. I watched it all burn in front of me." The words had sent an eerie shiver up your spine, forcing the pen in your hands to stop mid-sentence. There was a singular pause that had come to follow, a harrowing silence that seemed to stretch into eternity, a subtle quiver in his voice that you barely caught. "There was nothing I could do."

You clicked your pen, its sound echoing in the tense silence. The room seemed to grow colder with each moment that passed.

"But it's all my fault, right?" he had asked, tone so innocent that it itches a part of your heart uncomfortably, but tugged in a way you felt determined to take root of the grief in his chest and rip it apart. And for a moment as you looked in his dark eyes, over his youthful features and guilt-ridden face, you felt that inkling feeling again. "I killed them. It's all my fault."

"None of this is your fault. Blaming yourself for something you couldn't control is a heavy burden to carry," You reassured him calmly, as gently as you could, knowing the power that your own words could cause for someone seemingly lost, troubled, and young. "You saved yourself. You're alive; you did what you could to survive, and you're here to heal. I'm here to help you heal, okay?"

Your reassurance was met with a fleeting smile, but it hadn't quite reach his eyes, yet his gaze peered directly into you as if searching for something in you𑁋you could only think it was hope. Hope that he wanted to heal just as much as you wanted to help him heal. It's your job. This was why you took this job in the first place.

You needed to save people, either from the demons in their minds or the traumas that haunted them. This boy had lost his entire family in a housefire, for God's sake. This was your duty.

"It's not my fault," he had said, and met your eyes, as if searching for approval. "It's not my fault."

"That's right, Hui." You offered him a faint, assuring smile. "It's not your fault."

PRESENT DAY: 2023

"Excuse me, Dr. L/N? Is it okay if I sit here?"

You glance up to see Seokmin holding up a tray of lunch food, returning you from your zoning thoughts. You shoot him a kind smile and a nod, motioning to the empty space across from you for him to have a seat. Usually, you frequently have lunch alone in the comfort of your office where you can tend to yourself in solitude, but today, you might as well welcome the company.

Seokmin sets his tray down and takes a seat, and for some minutes, there's a comfortable silence as you both begin to eat. He seems to notice the tired lines to your face, but he doesn't press on about it.

"Have you been settling in well?" You ask him suddenly, breaking the silence.

"Huh, me? Oh." He's a bit taken aback, cheeks flushed, and you give a soft chuckle. "You could say that. I wanted to try something new after working bedside for the longest time. I didn't think that psych would be a field I was interested in𑁋look where I am now, though."

"That's the thing about this field." You let out a sigh, giving a knowing smile. "It has a way of drawing you in, even if you didn't plan on it."

"It was definitely an experience when I was in nursing school," Seokmin comments eagerly. You felt as if you were talking to a close friend rather than another colleague, and it feels rather refreshing. "and doing ICU was already draining of itself."

You take a sip of your drink, nodding your head. "I can only imagine. It can be quite rigorous."

Seokmin lets his gaze wander over you curiously. "How long have you worked here, doctor?"

"Please, you can just call me Y/N. Unless we're working."

Seokmin smiles. "How long have you worked here then, Y/N?"

You pause for a moment. Thinking about the amount of years you've worked in this field hasn't been a particular thought to come up𑁋time just seems to fly by when it's the only job you've been dedicated to for most of your life.

"Hm, ten years now? I believe this month will mark my ten years here."

Seokmin's eyes visibly widen in awe before responding, "Wow, that's... You must have really seen a lot of things. I really envy you, doctor."

Your smile fades just a bit; it's barely noticeable, though you still hope that Seokmin doesn't see it. You can feel that feeling gnaw at your skin again, something inexplicable, like a sense of foreboding that seemed to be creaking open a door you believed to have firmly shut for good.

But you choose to push it aside, just like you always do, dismissing it perfectly with a mutter of a thank you. It's ironic, considering this is what you do𑁋normally you would tell patients to confront their past and face their fears, but when it comes to your own, you tend to bury them.

There's an itch that crawls up your arms, and you knead at it through your sleeves with your fingers.

Maybe you can get used to this company, though.

"Do you have any kids, doctor?"

The question comes after a click of your pen, and you glance up from the vitals sheet in your hand to see Moon Jun sitting criss-crossed on the bed, gloved hands sitting on his lap and pupils peering curiously over you.

"No, Mr. Moon," You reply, keeping your tone soft, somewhat nonchalant. "I don't have any children."

He tilts his head slightly, almost as if he's studying you like a specimen under a microscope. The mask on his face makes him appear even more enigmatic, his dark, even charming eyes the only feature you can discern.

"No family at all?" he asks. "No husband, wife, or children to go home to?"

"I live alone. My work keeps me quite occupied."

Some silence passes.

"Alone," he repeats, almost to himself, as if savouring the word in his mouth. "Don't you ever feel... lonely though?"

His question hangs in the air like a dark cloud. It's an oddly personal inquiry, but you decide to address it professionally. "Loneliness is a feeling that many people experience at different points in their lives. It's a normal human emotion, and it's something we can work through."

His gaze narrows, and his gloved fingers twitch in his lap. His mask conceals most of his facial expressions, but you can sense an intensity in his gaze.

"I've felt lonely my entire life, you know," he points out as you sit yourself down in the chair in front of him just like all your previous sessions. Despite the considerable space between you two, sometimes you swear you can feel him breathing right down your neck. "Even being in here too, it.... feels like a different kind of loneliness. A place where they put people who are broken. Like me."

"I can assure you that you are not broken, Mr. Moon," You tell him reassuringly. "How are you with meeting the other patients here? Are there any you have been interacting with since our last session?"

He leans back slightly, his gloved hands still resting on his lap, and his gaze seems to drift momentarily as if he's recalling something.

"I think... they are scared of me, to be honest," he answers, eyes crinkling just slightly as if there was a smile playing on his lips right below his mask. "But... perhaps they're all just lost, confused, and weak. They pretend to get better, but they're just putting on a show. It's a bit pathetic, don't you think?"

"It's not uncommon for people in this environment to have their guard up," You tell him. "Sometimes, it's just a reaction to the unfamiliar. Everyone here is dealing with their own battles, just as you are, Mr. Moon."

He chuckles lowly at that. It's the first time you've heard such a sound like that leave his mouth, like a dissonant note echoing in an otherwise quiet room. His masked face gives nothing away.

"Maybe it's because of this stupid mask on my face," he says, touching the mask with the tips of his fingers. "It makes me look like a criminal or a monster."

"The mask might be intimidating to some," You acknowledge, crossing your arms together. "but it doesn't define who you are."

His eyes narrow slightly, though there's that twinge of amusement as he crosses his arms together, mirroring your body language.

"You're not scared of me, right, doctor?"

You meet his steady gaze, his own searching yours from behind the mask. There's a moment of silence, something unspoken lingering in the air.

"No, Mr. Moon, I'm not scared of you," You respond, keeping yourself composed. "I'm here to understand you."

He leans back, that hint of amusement still present in his on his face.

"I think you would make a great parent, doctor."

The unexpected compliment catches you off-guard for a moment, making you briefly at a loss for words. There's a slight blush that crawls up your cheeks, and you clear your throat, trying to regain your composure.

"Thank you." You give an appreciative smile. "That's very kind of you to say."

You see that flickering flame in his pupils again. It's a fire that seems to burn brighter with each passing minute, and it leaves you both intrigued and uneasy.

FLASHBACK: 2013

"I told you not to call me that!" Hui exclaimed angrily in frustration, his face turning a shade of red as he glared at you. The sudden outburst had caught you off-guard, and for a moment, found yourself at a loss for words. His face contorted with volatile frustration, and his hands clenched into fists.

"I apologise," You said calmly, doing your best to defuse the situation. "I didn't mean to upset you. What would you like me to call you then?"

He took a deep breath, visibly trying to calm himself down. His shoulders slumped, and his expression softened slightly.

"Just call me by my nickname, okay?" he urged, voice a tad less sharp now, but it's still enough to pierce. "Hui is fine. I hate my name! It's ugly. I want to forget about it𑁋I want everyone to forget about it! That name doesn't exist anymore, got it?"

"Of course, I understand." You leaned back forward in your chair, slow and cautiously. "But I want you to tell me why you stole crayons from Chaewon earlier in the rec room."

Hui only scoffed in response. "It's not that big of a deal. I only took a few from her. She'll forget about it."

"You took something from someone else without permission, Hui," You explained matter-of-factly. "That's a violation of their personal space and boundaries."

Hui's focus darted around the room for a moment, lips pursed and fingers messing around with the frays of his hospital gown. Then his gaze hardened once more as he landed back on you. His silence was almost unsettling as it stretched between you, but you remained patient, waiting for him to offer an explanation.

"Fine, whatever," he muttered, finally relenting. "I wanted them for a project I'm working on, that's all."

"A project? What kind of project?"

"Back in group therapy... They wanted us to create something meaningful or something𑁋something that means a lot to us, and I needed the crayons for it. So I took them from her."

It took a couple of moments before you nodded, acknowledging his explanation. "I see, Hui. It's important to express yourself through art or projects, but it's also important to respect others' belongings. Try asking for what you need instead of taking it without permission, okay?"

Hui's response was a simple, noncommittal nod, eyes holding onto yours a moment too long.

"Now, the next time you're back in the rec room, please say sorry to Chaewon whenever you see her, okay?"

Again, all he did was nod begrudgingly, his expression showing a hint of reluctance.

"Good." You gave him a proud smile. "That's all for today. Tell me about your project next session, alright?"

You felt his eyes on you as you grabbed your case notes and stood up, before leaving him in his room. And even though you were out of his room, you swore you could still feel the weight of his gaze on you.

PRESENT DAY: 2023

You find Moon Jun sitting on the edge of the bed once entering inside of his room, gloved hands folded neatly in his lap. The mask obscures his face as usual, but his dark eyes lock onto yours the moment you walk inside. The dim lighting in the room casts long shadows on the walls, and you find yourself drawn into those shadows as you take a seat across from him.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Moon," You greet warmly, taking your usual seat across from him. "How has your day been so far?"

He doesn't immediately respond. There's a hint of curiosity in his hooded eyes, but it's devoid of warmth. It's subtle, almost imperceptible, but you've learned to pay attention to the smallest details when dealing with patients over the years. It still sends a shiver down your spine.

"Just been like any other day in this place," he finally replies coolly.

You offer a polite smile and proceed with the session. "Is there anything specific you'd like to discuss for today's session, Mr. Moon?"

He thinks for a moment, tapping his gloved fingers lightly against his knee. The rhythmic sound seems to echo in the room.

"Are you interested in mythology, doctor?" he asks, and the question was certainly something you didn't expect him to ask. He continues, "I've always had an interest in it growing up, so I was wondering if you did too."

You chuckle quietly. "I wish I could say the same, but... I guess I found it intriguing at times."

"Surely you must have heard some stories though." He giggles at this, unclasping his hands together and propping himself right at the edge of the bed so that he's leaning forward, his masked face closer to yours. The dim light makes it hard to see his features clearly, and the shadows in the room seem to grow darker, more pronounced. "Are you familiar with the creature, the phoenix?"

You pause for a moment to think, before giving a slow, careful nod. "I've... definitely heard of it."

"The phoenix," he murmurs, voice a soft, hypnotic cadence. "It's a beautiful creature of rebirth and fire, isn't it?"

The mention of fire makes you shift slightly in your seat.

"Mr. Moon, I'm not entirely sure where you're𑁋"

You're interrupted as he leans even closer, his masked face now mere inches from yours, his dark eyes locking onto yours with an intense and unsettling focus. The shadows play tricks on your vision, making it feel like the walls are closing in on you.

"I just find it fascinating," he continues. "The idea of burning away the old and rising from the ashes anew. It's like a fresh start, a chance to be reborn. Do you believe in second chances, doctor?"

You swallow the lump in your throat. His intense gaze, shrouded by the mask, seems to hold you almost captive and confined to the chair you sat on, and his words seem to echo in the confined space.

"I... I believe that everyone deserves a chance to heal and grow, Mr. Moon," You respond carefully, trying to regain your composure. "But it's also important to work through the past before embracing the future."

He tilts his head slightly, as if considering your words. The room remains eerily quiet, the shadows deepening around you.

"Do you believe people can truly change?" he asks, voice softer now, almost pleading.

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of his question sitting right on your chest.

"I believe that change is possible, Mr. Moon," You reply gently, choosing your words with care. "People have the capacity to grow and evolve, and to make choices that lead to a more positive outlook. But this varies from person to person𑁋if they are willing to put in the effort to do so."

For a moment, the tension in the room seems to dissipate slightly. The shadows on the walls appear to retreat, and the dim light feels less suffocating.

"Doctor," he finally speaks, voice low despite only being the two of you in the room, like he's telling you a secret. "what if... those flames of the past have burned too brightly, leaving nothing but ashes behind?"

You furrow your brows. "I-I would say𑁋"

"It's what happened to me, doctor, don't you understand?" he snaps suddenly, standing up from the bed to step closer to you. "You can't possibly understand what it's like to fucking lose everything, to watch it all burn in front of your fucking eyes! This is why I did this𑁋I put my life into the phoenix. I burned what was left of me, and now I'm here, in this absolute hellhole."

"Mr. Moon, I need you to calm down, please𑁋"

There's a flash of anger that shoots through his eyes, the flame burning in his pupils brighter than before. The atmosphere grows tense in the snap of a finger, and you instinctively stand up to bring yourself in the direction of the door to the room, maintaining a safe distance, acutely aware of the limited space and the fact that you're alone with him. There's an emergency button within reach where you can call for help whenever needed.

You can't get yourself to respond, feeling frozen from the way you can feel your heart pounding anxiously in your chest from his close proximity. He takes a step back, his hands trembling slightly as he clenches and unclenches them. The room seems to regain a semblance of normalcy, but the tension still lingers in the air, and you still can't move.

You watch as he cowers back towards the bed, leaving you standing next to the door. You felt as if you've been holding your breath, like you were submerged underwater and your fight or flight instincts were kicking in.

"You won't give up on me, right, doctor?" he asks, and the way he says it so weakly, naively, makes your head spin. "You can trust me, right?"

You smooth out your white coat, placing yourself back down in the seat across from him anticipatingly.

"I... I trust you," You mutter meekly. "I won't give up on you."

The corner of his eyes crinkle again. He's smiling. You can see it through the mask.

"How lovely," he states sweetly. "We're on the right track, then."

"Y/N𑁋I mean Dr. L/N, are you okay?" Seokmin's voice comes up from behind as you walk yourself towards your office, feeling completely and utterly scatterbrained from the events of the past hour.

As Seokmin's voice reaches your ears, you take a deep breath to steady yourself. You turn to Seokmin and offer him a reassuring smile, though it doesn't quite reach your eyes, but seeing him in front of you already makes you feel a tad bit better.

"I'm fine, Seokmin, thank you." Your voice carries a hint of exhaustion and residual unease. "Just a challenging session, but I'm okay."

Seokmin just nods, but as you were about to turn around, he says, "If you... uh, ever need someone to talk to or anything, just know I'm here for you, okay? It can be tough, I've heard."

You smile gratefully at him, this time genuinely reaching your eyes. It feels like a breath of fresh air talking to him.

"Thank you," You tell him. "I might just have to take you up on that someday."

Seokmin scratches the back of his neck shyly and returns your smile with a warm one of his own. "Well, you know where to find me."

You stand still for a moment as Seokmin begins to dismiss himself away to resume his rounds, but just then, you feel a sudden idea pop up in your head.

"Seokmin, wait!" You exclaim after the man, who immediately turns around to the sound of your voice, peering at you worriedly. "Actually, there's something... Could you do me a favour?"

His eyes light up curiously. "Sure, what do you want me to do?"

You step up closer to him, looking around to ensure no one else was listening in.

"Can you help find me more information about the patient in 610?" You lean in, lowering your voice to a hushed tone. "I'd like to know more about his background, more than what's in his file right now, or just anything that might help me understand him better."

Seokmin raises a brow briefly but nods either way. "I'll see what I can do, Dr. L/N."

FLASHBACK: 2013

The rec room was buzzing with activity as you entered, giving a chance for patients to interact with others and engage in activities outside of their rooms. Laughter, conversation, and the occasional burst of youthful energy filled the air; it’s a striking comparison to the somber atmosphere of the individual therapy sessions you usually conducted.

As you glanced around to find Hui, you finally caught sight of the boy sitting alone at a table in the very corner of the room. He appeared seemingly engrossed on the piece of paper in front of him, an array of crayons sat on the table. His focus was so intense that he seemed completely oblivious to the world around him.

You approached Hui's table with a gentle smile. "Hui, how are you doing today?"

Hui looked up from his drawing, eyes meeting yours briefly. "I'm fine," he replied coldly. "Just drawing."

You glanced down at his artwork, which depicted a scene of fire and destruction. The flames consumed a house, while stick-figure people screamed in the windows, their tiny, distorted faces twisted in agony. The only colours there would be that of the orange and red gigantic flame that enveloped the jagged, blackened lines of the house.

"That's... quite a powerful drawing, Hui," You commented as you took a seat right next to him. "What made you choose this subject?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, eyes not leaving his paper. "It's just what I felt like drawing."

"Is this supposed to represent what happened to your family?"

Hui only continued to mindlessly colour his drawing, his crayon moving across the paper with deliberate strokes.

"Maybe," he replied stoically. "I saw it all happen, but I couldn't do anything."

You studied Hui's face for a moment, but his expression remained blank, his focus entirely on the drawing. His mien was calm, almost eerily so, in comparison to the disturbing scene of destruction right below his fingertips.

"Can you tell me more about what you saw, Hui?" You asked him.

He glanced at you briefly, and for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of something in his eyes. But it was gone so quickly that you couldn't be sure if you had imagined it.

"I already told you," he pressed. "I saw the fire, and I watched everything burn. It wasn't my fault that it happened."

You nodded, acknowledging his words, and continued to watch him work on the drawing.

"Did you ever feel sad about what happened, Hui?" You questioned.

Hui's face only remained impassive as he answered, "It won't change anything."

You could only think about all the trauma he must have endured𑁋from losing his family and being the sole survivor of such a ruinous event, to having to deal with all the emotions at once that it must feel almost numbing inside of him.

"Did anyone help you during or after the fire, Hui?" You prodded calmly.

He still didn't look up from his drawing. "Some firefighters came, and they put out the fire. But they couldn't save my family."

You felt that pang of sympathy for Hui as he mentioned the firefighters' futile attempts to save his family all while he was waiting right outside the house. It was clear that the traumatic experience had locked his emotions away behind a stoic, desensitized façade.

"I'm sorry to hear about your family, Hui," You said softly. "It's completely okay to feel sad or angry about what happened."

Hui's hand paused briefly in its colouring, but he didn't look up. You glanced down to the paper, noticing that he was drawing something in the corner, almost appearing like some sort of bird, like some sort of crow or cardinal.

"I don't feel much about it anymore. It's just the way things are."

Your eyes drift from his drawing, concern deepening, but you understood that emotional numbing was a common coping mechanism for trauma survivors. In a way, it's like a protective shell around oneself to prevent further pain. The emotional scars ran deep, and sometimes, it was easier for them to keep their feelings at bay rather than confront the overwhelming grief and sorrow that lurked beneath the surface.

That is what you attributed with Hui𑁋what you always had when he first came here. And you promised him patience and that it took time to fully heal.

"I'll leave you be now, okay?" You stood up from the seat, giving the young boy a reassuring squeeze to the shoulder.

Hui doesn't respond, still engrossed in his drawing. You took a step back, leaving him to his artwork, and decided to check on some of the other children in the room for the time being.

You swore you could feel his eyes on you as you walked away.

PRESENT DAY: 2023

Your eyes are practically lasering holes right through the manila folder of Moon Jun's file.

The file only houses the basics𑁋his medical history, therapy notes, and observations from the staff. But there's something missing, something you can't quite put your finger on. His background information is limited, and there are no records of any family members or relatives listed. It's as if he appeared out of nowhere.

A knock on your office door makes you jump, and you quickly open your eyes to see Seokmin standing there with a stack of papers in his hands, concern etched on his face.

"Sorry, did I startle you?" he asks, stepping inside your office.

You offer a tired smile. "A bit, but it's okay. Come in."

Seokmin walks further into your office, closing the door lightly behind him. He takes a moment to study your expression, clearly noticing the exhaustion and frustration on your face. You let out a sigh and lean back in your chair, rubbing your temples with your fingertips as Seokmin sits down right across from you.

"So, I tried to do some digging, as you asked." Seokmin places the stack of papers on the desk. "It wasn't easy to look into his medical history, but I think this might be important."

You straighten up in your chair, your exhaustion momentarily forgotten as you lean in to examine the stack of papers Seokmin has brought. However, what you expected is to see information regarding him, but instead, you see news reports.

"I... I don't know if any of these can be related, but I found a few unsolved cases of arson over the years. It might be the cause of his facial scarring," Seokmin explains. "I think one of them happened at an orphanage, another at an abandoned warehouse nearby, and another at a small church a few miles from here."

You carefully pick up one of the articles and start to read the details. The article mentions a fire at an orphanage several years ago that resulted in the tragic loss of lives. The incident remained unsolved, with no clear cause identified. Then you come across another article about the fire at the warehouse, and it, too, was a case that had perplexed investigators, leaving it unsolved.

"...and I also think there was one about a family from around... nine? Ten years ago? I didn't read all the details of it, but I believe only one survived𑁋"

That's when you feel your heart drop all the way down to the ground, into the ground at that point, eyes widening as the gasp that leaves your mouth cuts Seokmin off. You're already standing up, fingers trembling, as you frantically shuffle through the articles he had provided for you.

"Where can I find that one? Is it here?"

Your adamancy surprises Seokmin as he scrambles through the papers before taking one out and offering it to you. You take the article from his hands. The paper is slightly crumpled, and the ink is faded, but the headline is still clear: "Family Tragedy Claims Lives, Sole Survivor Emerges."

The only survivor was a teenage boy, whose name was redacted from the article for privacy.

But you know exactly who it is.

The article describes how he had been found by the firefighters, huddled on the lawn outside the burning house, his eyes blank with shock. Authorities had attempted to investigate, but the case quickly went cold due to lack of evidence. It also mentions that the boy had lost his entire family that night and was assumed to be too traumatised to provide any coherent information about the fire's cause, which later caused him to be sent to a psychiatric facility due to the trauma.

"Doctor, what is this?" Seokmin interrupts your thoughts as he brings up another paper from view.

You glance up from the article to meet Seokmin's gaze, the urgency in his eyes mirroring your own. He unfolds it carefully, and as your eyes scan the headline, your heart sinks further: "Tragic Fire Engulfs Local Psychiatric Facility."

As you read through it, you swear you feel the same flames dancing up the skin of your arms. This article reports a fire that occurred exactly ten years ago at the very psychiatric facility where both you and Seokmin currently work. You were there that night. It was only your first year as a psychologist at the facility, still learning the ropes of your profession. The memories you've long tried to suppress come flooding back.

The sound of alarms blaring, the acrid smell of smoke, the frantic efforts to evacuate patients, and the feeling of utter helplessness as the flames consumed parts of the facility. It had left scars on your soul, scars you thought you had buried deep over the years.

That boy was one of your first ever patients.

Your arms are itching again, and you can almost feel the searing heat from that night a decade ago.

"Y/N, are you... are you okay?" Seokmin asks. You can see the worry in his eyes, but you're not sure if you can answer his question.

You swallow hard, your throat dry as you try to find your voice. "Yeah, I just... Sorry, reading this article, and..."

That's when Seokmin gets it. "Were you..." His eyes lower down to where one of your hands is clawing anxiously at the sleeves of your arm, and he immediately takes away the article from view. "I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up. I didn't know you were..."

You manage a weak smile as you bring your arms back down to your side, hugging yourself instead. "It's alright. You didn't know."

Seokmin doesn't seem entirely convinced, for a moment feeling stuck on what to say. "Are you sure that you're up for this? We can always𑁋"

"Yes," You say boldly. "It'll be okay."

You take a deep breath.

"I'll be okay."

"You seem troubled today, doctor."

In the dimly lit room, Moon Jun's observation is shrewd as always, whose calculating eyes seem to analyse every twitch of your expression as you both sit in the room together, right across from each other, with him hovering over you while you felt feeling like a cowering mouse trapped in a cage.

You flash him a faint, grateful smile. "I appreciate your concern, but let's focus back on you now, shall we?"

"Uh-uh, doctor," he taunts, crossing his arms together and shaking his head dismissively. Even in the darkness of the room, you swear you see his lips curl into a smirk under that damn mask of his. "If I'm not mistaken, you said at the very beginning that I have control over what I want to talk about in our sessions. I realise I hardly know anything about you! Isn't that funny? I consider you a dear friend, you know. You're the only person in this place who even makes the effort to talk with me."

The weight of his words suspend like a dense fog. You can hear the faint hum of the ventilation system, see the way the lone light fixture in the room seems to flicker intermittently. It plays tricks on your perception, making his features appear to morph and shift, all while his eyes are practically dissecting you.

"Friendship... is built on trust," You reply cautiously. "But our sessions are designed for your benefit. My role here is to help you, not the other way around, and my personal life is not relevant for this."

He leans in closer, his eyes never leaving yours, and you can feel his intense focus like a physical weight. You're caught in the gravitational pull of his eyes, his relentless gaze that seems to strip away your defenses. "But, doctor, how can you truly help me if you don't open up a little?"

He tilts his head, the mask inches away from your face, his eyes boring into yours.

"We could be more than what we are right now, couldn't we, doctor?" he whispers, feeling his cold breath against your skin even through the mask, and you close your eyes. "I could make you feel things you've never felt before𑁋"

"Stop! Please!" You yell out unexpectedly, hearing nothing but the unsteadiness of your breaths and the echo of your own voice in the dim room. Your eyes snap back open; he's not hovering over you, and the disturbing scenario you had just experienced was nothing more than a figment of your imagination.

Instead, Moon Jun is calmly seated away from you, watching you intently from the bed. There's a curious glint in his eyes, one that suggests he's found your reaction to be rather... entertaining.

"Doctor, you do seem to be quite troubled today," he remarks almost playfully, voice dripping with amusement that shoots goosebumps up your skin. "Seeing things, aren't we?"

You can't quite find the words to respond, and the sensation of his cold breath against your skin still lingers in your memory.

"You must think about me a lot, day and night possibly, if you imagine such things," he teases, and you feel the way his words crawl under your skin. "You probably wonder what lies behind this mask of mine, don't you? You're a special friend𑁋perhaps you deserve to see it."

You watch the way his gloved fingers toy with the edges of his mask, and for a moment, it seems like he's contemplating something. The room is so silent that you can hear your own heart pounding in your chest.

Then without warning, he reaches up and slowly starts to peel off the mask, revealing the face hidden beneath. Your breath catches in your throat as his visage is unveiled.

His face is tainted by a network of scars, the skin tissue looking raw and discoloured. The scars extend from his jawline up to his cheeks and forehead, giving his face an almost grotesque and nightmarish appearance. Some scars look like they were caused by something sharp, while others appear more like burns. There were also some that seemed almost... fresher than others. His lips, once hidden by the mask, are twisted into a smirk that sends shivers down your spine.

"You wanted to see, didn't you, doctor?" he asks, voice low and taunting. "You wanted to know what's behind this mask."

You can't tear your gaze away from his disfigured face, and you're overwhelmed by a mix of curiosity, horror, and a strange fascination.

"Are you surprised, doctor?" he continues, voice now tinged with mockery. "Do I look like a monster to you?"

You can't seem to respond just yet, eyes still peering over him as if trying to discern the features of his face. There's this wave of familiarity that seems to hit you, as if you've seen those certain details before. A nagging feeling tugs at the corners of your memory like a half-forgotten dream.

You squint, trying to connect the dots between the disfigured face before you and the dim recollection buried deep within your mind. The way the scars twist and curl, the faint traces of burn marks𑁋it's all so eerily and hauntingly familiar. You swear you've seen those eyes before. He watches your expression closely, as if he can read your thoughts, and those eyes that seem to follow your every move, your every thought𑁋

And then it hits you. It hits you like a freight train on the tracks that was beyond avoidable. It hits you like a tidal wave crashing against the shore of your conscience, leaving wreckage to be abandoned and forgotten forever in its wake. It hits you like a thunderstorm tearing apart a peaceful, sunny day.

"Hui...?" is all you manage to choke out.

Images from the past flash before your eyes𑁋Hui, the young boy you once knew, whose face was marked with troubled innocence and a haunting vulnerability that had drawn you to him in the first place. You had watched him grow, had nurtured the fragile trust he had placed in you. You recall your early sessions together, hearing all the painful details of the fire that had torn his life apart.

His smirk deepens, and his eyes gleam with an uncanny satisfaction.

"Hui died ten years ago, doctor," he says with a cold, haunting certainty. "He died in that same fire that set this place ablaze. I'm sure you remember that very well, don't you?"

The room seems to close in on you, and the memories of that fateful night come rushing back like a torrential downpour. The fire, the chaos, the screams. It had been a nightmarish scene, etched into your memory like the faint scars that plague your arms from that very night.

But before you could respond, you felt something vibrate in your pocket. It's the end of your session.

FLASHBACK: 2013

The fire alarm rang.

It was blaringly loud, completely jolting you out of your chair in the silence that carried through your office. Your heart raced as the panic had begun to sink in, the blood-red light of the alarm painted the muted colours of your office walls with a surreal, macabre-like glow, and the acrid scent of smoke was beginning to fill your lungs.

You reached for the door handle, but your trembling hands fumbled, and it wouldn't budge. You tried again and again, the cold sweat on your palms making it even more difficult to grip.

"Wh-What the hell?" You shakily muttered to yourself, before bringing your fists up to pound on the door. "Hello? Someone help me! I'm in here! Someone!"

The panic intensified as the fire alarm continued its relentless wail as you continued to pound on the door. Smoke started to seep in from the edges of your office door, and you could feel the heat of the flames approaching. You coughed, choking on the sharp fumes that stung your throat. It felt like the walls were closing in on you. Fuck, fuck, what do you do? How the hell was the fire spreading so fast?

You were trapped. You were going to die.

The windows! You remembered the windows. Desperation drove you to the large window on the wall. Instinctively, you grabbed a chair and used it to break it, the sound of shattering glass ringing in your ears, the shards grazing against your skin and the palm of your hands, making you let out a sharp gasp. Blood trickled from the cuts on your hands, and as you peered down to the ground below, you realised that you were too high above the ground for a safe jump.

The fire was only getting closer and closer.

As you hesitated by the shattered window, a muffled voice from the hallway reached your ears. "Is anyone in there? We're trying to get you out!"

Your eyes widened as you stumbled back to the door. "I'm in here! Please help!"

"Step back! We're breaking down the door!"

You stepped back from the window as much as you could and away from the smoke, feeling the flames inching closer. Your vision blurred as you fought to breathe, eyes stinging with tears from the dry air.

Moments later, a loud crash resounded through the room as the door burst open. A group of firefighters rushed in, their protective gear making them look like otherworldly figures emerging from the haze. They quickly located you, wrapped you in a fire-resistant blanket, and led you to safety.

Once you were outside, an emergency medical team checked you over for any injuries, plastered up your arms, and administered oxygen. You were shaken, bruised, and suffering from smoke inhalation, but you were alive. Somehow. In some way.

Then, you found your mind drifting back to Hui. Did he manage to get out safely? Where was he? Questions swirled in your mind as you watched the firefighters work tirelessly to contain the blaze. God, he must not be in the right state of mind after witnessing yet another fire himself.

"Excuse me..." You weakly called out to a paramedic, voice barely a whisper.

The paramedic turned to you, concern etched on their face beneath their protective gear. "Yes, are you okay?"

You swallowed hard, barely getting your words together. "I was in there... in the building. I have some patients... uh... Do you know if they made it out? I need to know if they're safe."

The paramedic exchanged a glance with another passing colleague, eyes hidden behind their mask, before returning back to you and shaking their head.

"We're still searching for survivors and dealing with the fire," they explained. "We can't give you any information right now. I'm truly sorry. I'll let them know to keep a lookout. Can you describe them for me?"

You described what your other patients and what Hui looked like as much as you could, and the emergency worker took down all the information before walking away to tend to others.

The silence that followed was suffocating, perhaps even more than what you endured inside the building, and you found it difficult to hold back tears of frustration from flowing down your face.

As the smoke gradually dissipated and the flames were brought under control, the once-deafening alarm was reduced to sporadic chirps and the occasional distant rumble of falling debris. The scene around you was one of destruction, merely charred remains of a place that was filled with hope and healing.

You glanced down at your trembling, injured hands and arms and see the cuts from the shattered window, yet the physical pain was nothing compared to the anguish in your heart, and the fear and guilt that gnawed at you. You lost patients whom you had sworn to protect, had sworn𑁋no, promised to heal.

It was only when the search and rescue teams began to wind down their efforts that you realised the search for Hui had come with no results. All of your other patients were safe, but him. There was no sign of him anywhere, as if he slipped off the face of the earth.

A firefighter approached you some time later, his face covered in soot appearing both exhausted and empathetic.

"I'm sorry," he spoke, voice heavy with regret and defeat. "We've searched every area we could access, but we haven't found anyone else. The fire was intense, and... I'm truly sorry."

His words hit you like a hammer blow, and you felt your heart sink even further. You had dedicated your life to saving others, and yet it seemed that you might have failed to save one.

"Thank... Thank you for trying," You mumbled to the firefighter, nodding in acknowledgement. "And thank you for risking your lives to save us."

PRESENT DAY: 2023

The clouds outside obscure any hints of sunlight, and the overcast sky casts a sad, grey hue over the world outside. The room feels dim and lonely despite the overhead lights. You try to ignore that particular gnawing feeling to your skin as you sit at your desk, waiting for your next session with Moon Jun to start. It'll happen anytime now𑁋perhaps the more you anticipate will make time go by slower.

However your thoughts are interrupted by the soft knock at your door, and you look up to see Seokmin standing there. He offers you a warm smile as you motion for him to come inside, and you swear you see small ray of sunshine break through the clouds outside at the corner of your eye.

"Hey, how're you holding up?" he asks. "I wanted to check up on you."

You tilt your head a bit giddily at the sight of him. "We just had lunch break together, Seokmin."

He rolls his eyes at this, scratching the back of his neck bashfully. "I know, I know, but I... Well, is there a rule here that says I can't see you twice in one day when we're not working?"

Your lips purse together thoughtfully. "I guess not."

"Good." He grins, but it's quick to fade once he takes another look at you. "so... how have you been?"

The soft concern in Seokmin's voice is almost like a comforting hug for your ragged nerves. Normally it's your duty to ask your patients those kinds of questions, not the other way around. You offer him a tired but appreciative smile as he settles into the chair across from your desk. It's a rare moment when the roles are reversed, even if it's just for one short minute.

"You look tired," Seokmin points out, and it makes you let out a chuckle, even though it's tinged with weariness.

"You have a good eye, Seokmin," You reply playfully, and he blushes at this. "Do you want to know what I've been dreaming about the past few weeks?

Seokmin thinks about it for a second, then his eyes widen slightly.

"Is it... the fire?" he queries, hoping there's that small chance he might be wrong.

Your steady gaze meets his.

"Yes," You admit casually. "It's always the fire."

Or specifically, it's the fire and the guilt that you weren't able to save anyone, and it had been eating away at you ever since that fateful day.

His face softens at this, then he feels himself hesitate for a brief moment, before slowly reaching out to place his hand over yours on the desk. His touch is warm and reassuring, and you can feel the genuine concern in his eyes.

"I-I'm sorry you have to go through that, I wish there was a way I could... you know, stop you from reliving those kinds of things." His words make your lips twitch upwards, and he knows he's done something right. He finishes your smile with one of his own. "But... you're not alone in this. Just know I'm here."

"You've been helping me this entire time, Seokmin," You assure him. "If anything, I should be the one thanking you."

The weight of all the memories and unhealed scars left behind still cling to you like shadows. But in the presence of Seokmin, the burdens seem a little lighter, the darkness a bit less suffocating. The room seems a bit less lonely as you both sit there, just like all the days you eat lunch together where you seem to look forward to seeing him sit with you, and the sound of the clock ticking on the wall serves as a reminder that time keeps moving forward.

Before you know it, it's as if you've been struck by a gong that you could only hear, and you knew it was time to move forward with your session. You take your hand away from Seokmin as you stand up, and he follows suit.

"Y/N, wait, um..." Seokmin stops you before you could leave, and you turn back to him. "If something bad happens, or if you need anything, don't hesitate to reach out to me, even outside of work. I... want to make sure you're okay."

His words warm your heart, and you shoot him a thankful look.

"I know I can," You say, while opening the door to the outside of your office. "Thank you, Seokmin."

When you enter inside room 610, you spot Moon Jun sitting on the chair that you were supposed to sit in, his posture relaxed and arms crossed almost impatiently. He didn't wear the mask on his face, and he appeared confident, somewhat smug. It was the only other chair in the room. The other place for you to sit would be... the bed. This isn't how a typical therapy session begins.

"Doctor, I was just thinking about you!" he exclaims excitedly. "Please, go ahead and sit down on the bed. I thought it would be great to change things up a little. You wouldn't mind, would you?"

You hesitate for a moment, glancing between him and the bed. Maintaining your professionalism, you make your way to the bed and sit down, folding your hands in your lap. Something brushes against your leg for a moment, you look down to see a sheet of paper sitting next to you, and a plethora of crayons resting on top.

"Please bare with me for the mess, I was busy drawing before you came in," he tells you, voice almost cheery and... delighted?

As you sit on the bed, his demeanour only raises more questions than answers. He appears unusually relaxed, and his eagerness is disturbing. It's unlike him.

"Of course, that's fine with me," You tell him casually.

There's a grin that spreads across his scarred face, and it brings an uncomfortable twist to your stomach, but you don't let it show, though at this point you feel that he can sense your nervousness, your unease, knowing there's history between you two you thought to have burned away in the back of your mind.

Yet it had all come back just like his reemergence back into your life𑁋into something more sinister.

"He talks to me sometimes, even though he's perished in the flames," Jun begins, grabbing the paper right next to you. "You remember his drawings, right? Back in that big, bright room... where beneath all those smiles of the other patients was just... hopelessness."

Then he flips the paper over, and you find yourself peering at a drawing of flames, and the uncanny similarity to Hui's artwork all those years ago cannot be ignored. You see the same vivid depiction of flames, the swirling reds and oranges dancing on the page, and the black lines of its remains. But more than that, it's the emotions that these drawings evoke, the overwhelming sense of dread, and the traumatic memories that it unsheathes. He's the personification of the fire that scarred you all those years ago.

You feel a lump form in your throat. "Hui..."

"I-I am not Hui!" he wails out unexpectedly, voice shaking with anger. His hand grips the crayon so tightly that it snaps in his grasp, the colour streaking across the paper. "Hui is dead, remember? Burned by the flames?"

"If you're not Hui, then who are you?" You ask almost pleadingly.

His fingers toy with the broken crayon as he leans in closer, his disfigured face mere inches from yours. His gaze pierces through you like a knife, and in the dimly lit room, the shadows play tricks on his scarred face, making his disfigurement seem even more malformed.

"The phoenix, don't you remember, doctor?" He chuckles lowly. "It's a creature reborn from the ashes of its own destruction, risen from the flames just like me. Rebirth and fire, doctor! You haven't been paying attention, have you?"

You sense the panic seeping inside you, causing your heart to race. His words send shivers down your spine, and you realise that he's explaining with a belief that goes beyond mere delusion, beyond repair. The scars on his face are only a fraction of the damage done. He claims to have risen from the ashes, taking on a new identity, giving him this motive of... cleaning the world with fire.

Cleaning the world...

...with fire.

Ashes of its own destruction....

"You..." You slowly rise up from the bed, the room suddenly feeling too confining. The door seemed like it was miles away, and you find your breathing shaky and unsteady. "You were... you caused those fires, didn't you?"

His eyes fixate and narrow down on you as you stand up from the bed, and a sly smile spreads across his scarred face. His gaze is intense, and you feel like you're trapped. You recall the sessions you had with him years ago that you thought were leading him toward healing. But now, you face a man who has fully embraced a twisted ideology.

"I didn't cause those fires," he responds with eerie calmness. "I simply set things in motion."

"You𑁋You killed innocent people, you were the one... from ten years ago... You𑁋"

"They were all lost, meaningless, and I brought meaning to their lives. What's so hard to understand?" he deadpans.

"You killed your family," You state. "How can... how can you justify that?"

"Hui killed his family, I didn't," he claims, crumpling up the piece of paper in his hands. "Hui started all of this, I'm merely just a follower. He was misunderstood his entire life, and you promised him healing, which you didn't fulfill."

The room feels like it's boiling you alive, and you're stuck in an endless maze of his twisted delusions. There's a sense of helplessness as you try to reach through to the man behind the scars, the one who once sought your help, but you fear that he's too far gone.

"Jun, this isn't the answer. The… the phoenix is not real,” You plead, your voice trembling. "Hui was troubled, yes, but violence is not the path to understanding or redemption. It only leads to more pain and destruction."

His expression only hardens as he throws the crumpled up piece of paper on the floor, gloved hands forming fists at his side.

"You think you can help people by sitting in your comfy chair, listening to their problems, and scribbling notes on a fucking notepad." He scoffs annoyedly, leaning back in his chair. "You're just like all the others, doctor, so dumb and worthless. You never understood... You say that you do, but you don't."

And just as you were about to speak, you watch him pull something out of the pocket of his patient gown. You squint your eyes, and a gasp shudders out of you when you notice what's in his hands.

A lighter.

"You people are just so gullible, all while you're thinking you're helping," he mutters, flicking the lighter on. The tiny flame dances at the tip, casting bizarre shadows across his scarred face. "When in reality, you're laughing behind our backs with your stupid cigarettes and your fancy degrees. You wouldn't believe the things you can find in a place like this. It's amazing what people leave lying around."

There's an arrow that penetrates through your heart, an arrow of betrayal, helplessness. How can he think of you this way when you dedicated your entire time to helping him heal all those years ago? How can he, of all people, not see that your intentions were always to provide support and understanding?

You can feel the room heating up, not just from the small flame but from the growing tension. Jun's eyes are locked onto the flickering fire of the lighter, and his words are plagued with bitter resentment. You attempt to scurry to the door, but he blocks your way, nearly shoving the flame of the lighter in your face.

"Don't you see how beautiful this is, doctor?" he utters in a trance-like state, as if the flame was hypnotising him. The orange and yellow hues reflect onto his soulless eyes. He moves the lighter dangerously close to your face, and you can feel the searing heat radiating from the tiny inferno at the tip of your nose.

Your heart pounds like a beating drum, beads of sweat form on your forehead, and your breathing quickens as panic threatens to engulf you. But his gaze only remains possessed on the fire, as if he's being consumed by the very flames he holds in his hands.

"It's so beautiful how something so small can hold so much power," he murmurs, voice barely more than a whisper.

"This... This isn't the way to find meaning or healing," You respond, slowly backing away from him, trying to create some distance between the flame and yourself. "Fire and destruction only lead to more suffering, more pain. It's not the answer, Jun."

For a split second, something flickers in Jun's eyes, as if a fragment of his former self tries to break free from the shackles of his obsession. But it's a fleeting moment, quickly devoured by his fixation on the fire.

"There are... There are people who want to help you. Don't you remember all of our sessions together? All the... all the breakthroughs we had? You were making progress, Jun. You were on your way to healing." You bring your hand up as if in defense, watching him closely as he steps the tiniest inch closer to you. "I... I want to help you, I always have. I..."

He stares at you, and for a moment, it seems like your words might be getting through to him.

"Let me help you, Hui."

But just when you think your words may have struck a chord, his face contorts into a menacing grin and you can see the flame reflect onto his eyes. The last fragile thread of sanity that seemed to linger has snapped.

"You failed Hui that night, just like you failed me." He chuckles darkly. "You couldn't save us. Do you really think you can save everyone, doctor? Do you really think all the patients you've helped all these years are any better off now?"

Now, you found yourself speechless, a tight grip around your throat from his words.

He laughs coldly, waving the flame in front of your face once more. "You're so blind, doctor. You want to heal and save everyone, but you can't save me, and you can't save yourself. I can see it in your eyes."

He’s getting in your head, you know he is. He's trying to loosen your grip on whatever reality is𑁋attempting to unravel in your mind that you were, in some way, responsible for the events that had occurred over the years, forcing you to succumb to the guilt placed on your shoulders. You've never dealt with someone so deeply rooted to their own twisted reality. You can't reason with him.

It's impossible.

But you refuse to be the victim of your own past just like you had made yourself to be.

"Junhui," You call out urgently, and the use of his real name brings a harsh, foreign taste to your tongue. You notice the way he flinches slightly to it. "That person still exists inside you𑁋I-I know it does. Please, let that part of you come back. I'm here to listen, to understand, and to help. No matter what you believe."

The flame continues to sway at the end of the lighter, yet his face remains deformed into that unsettling grin, but your words seem to have given him a momentary pause.

"You think you can bring him back?" he hisses, bringing the flame away from your face, stretching his arm out toward the side. "He's dead, doctor. It's too late."

And with that, he tosses the lighter in the direction of the bed, and a cascade of flames quickly engulf the sheets, the crayons, the drawing, everything. Horror sets in as you watch the fire rapidly spreading, consuming the room, and overhead the fire alarm screams into action.

"Isn't it beautiful, doctor?" he guffaws as the flames devour the room, eyes wide with awe. "It's so perfect... So beautiful..."

Nothing but Jun's laughter fills the air as he watches the flames lick up the once-white walls with a maniacal fascination. The flames flicker and crackle loudly, casting shifting shadows on the walls of the room. You dart towards the door, but the intense heat and smoke make it nearly impossible to breathe or see, and you cover your mouth and nose with your hand. Coughing and vision disoriented, you stumble and hit the floor with a thud, weakly pounding your fists against the door.

"Someone help!" You shout desperately, the words barely escaping your mouth. "Someone help! I-I'm in here! Anyone, please!"

The room is suffocating you whole. You can hardly even see where Jun is amidst all the smoke, yet his laughter still rings in your ears, fogging away all your thoughts. You keep pounding on the door, voice hoarse from shouting, skin tingling with heat, but there's no response from the other side.

So this is how you're going to die, You think to yourself, leaning back against the wall like you were accepting your fate, and the thought makes you chuckle at the irony.

Time seems to stretch into eternity. But just when it feels like all hope is lost, the door bursts open, and a strong hand reaches in, grabbing your arm and pulling you out of the room and into the chaotic corridor. In the corridor, the fresh air is quick to fill up your lungs. You gasp for breath, your heart racing, while the fire alarm continues to blare.

It's Seokmin who pulled you from the room, and you can hardly make out his face from your stinging, watery eyes. He wraps a protective arm around you as you both stumble away from the dangerous room, mixing with the rushing crowd of staff and patients all being guided outside to their safety.

"Y/N, are you okay?! Stay with me!" Seokmin continues to pull you through the corridor, shielding you from anything that you might run into.

You only manage a weak nod, still coughing from all the smoke. Your mind is racing, and you can hardly tell where you were going, but you trust Seokmin's guidance as he leads you further away from the scene of the fire. The sounds of sirens and shouting surround you, and the sight of the smoke floating out from the room you just escaped haunts your thoughts.

When the brightness of the outside hits your eyes, you catch your breath and fall out of Seokmin's grasp and down to the ground. Firefighters and police officers quickly brush past you and into the building as Seokmin pulls you up once more to lead you in the direction of the paramedics and ambulances.

"Here, sit down." Seokmin places you on the stair of the ambulance and helps you out of your white coat before wrapping a blanket around you. "Can we get some help over here?"

A paramedic approaches, checking you over and providing oxygen to help clear your lungs of all the smoke you inhaled. Your heart is still pounding in your chest as you sit there, trying to process what just happened.

Seokmin places himself right next to you, scanning over your features closely. You look over at him, and he gives you a reassuring smile, pushing away some disheveled strands of hair so he could properly see your face.

"You're going to be okay," he assures you, rubbing some comforting circles on your back. "Just take deep breaths and try to relax. They'll take you to the hospital to make sure you're alright."

You give him a nod, feeling a bit more security from him than the blanket draped over your shoulders right now. The two of you sit there for a few minutes, calmly watching the chaos begin to subside. It didn't look like the fire damaged much in terms of the outside of the building.

"I'm going to see if I could help around," Seokmin says, standing up. "Just stay here, okay? I'll be back before they take you to the hospital."

Just as he begins to walk away, you hesitate for a second, before calling out his name, "Hey, Seokmin?"

He turns back to you, a look of concern in his eyes. "Yes? Do you need something?"

You reach out your hand toward Seokmin, silently gesturing for him to come closer. He approaches, and without a word, you pull him into a tight hug. You feel him freeze in your grasp, before his arms fully encircle you in return, tightening the hug, and for a moment, the world around fades away as you hold onto each other. You can feel his heart beat a bit faster than normal against your chest, but you don't acknowledge it, and neither does he.

Eventually, you reluctantly pull away from the hug, but you don't let go of Seokmin's hand just yet.

"Thank you," You whisper. "for everything."

His gaze softens as he looks at you, before glancing away shyly. It makes you chuckle.

"No need to," he tells you. "I'm... I'm just happy you're safe."

The two of you stay like that for a moment, with you closing your eyes to steady your breathing while Seokmin continues to hold your hand, and you can feel the tension in your body slowly easing.

Seokmin's smile is warm, and he squeezes your hand gently. "I'll be back soon, okay? Just hang in there."

With that, he leaves your side to assist the emergency responders, leaving you seated on the ambulance's stairs, wrapped in a blanket. Your brows furrow together, trying to make sense of the situation and all the events that just transpired. The fear, the confusion, the mania that gripped the lost man back in that room𑁋it all swirls within your mind. The lingering scent of smoke fills your nose, and you swear and you can still feel the heat on your skin even though the air was cool outside.

As you sit there, lost in thought, suddenly feeling disconnected from the world around you, you find yourself questioning the nature of your profession and everything you ever believed about it. Could you have done something differently? Were there signs you missed that might have prevented this particular descent in delusion? Was he right, and you were blind this entire time? Not just for him, but for everyone you've helped?

Were you really this dumb and worthless?

Or perhaps was it impossible to save him this entire time...

...and he was too far gone?

That hefty burden of guilt, both for your inability to help him in the past and in the present, weighs heavily on your shoulders. What's for sure is that this will forever be an image tainted in your mind, scarred just like the man who brought destruction and chaos to your life today, and that particular day ten years ago.

You don't know how long you sat there until Seokmin returns, yet when he comes up to you, his face appears disturbed and... paranoid?

"They've got the fire under control. It didn't spread much farther than the room," he informs you, catching his breath. "It seems like nobody else was hurt."

"That's good to hear." Your eyes roam over his features, taking in the tense expression to his face. "Is... is everything okay? How about..."

He sits down beside you, expression still apprehensive. You can see the flicker of concern in his eyes, and the remnants of the chaos from moments ago are still evident in the way he holds himself. His gaze meets yours, and you notice a small shift in his demeanour, as if there's something he's struggling to express.

Seokmin darts his attention around, as if making sure no one was listening in, before taking a deep breath and leaning in.

"They... They said they didn't find his body in the room," he mutters, and it's so quiet you hardly make out what he says. "It's... It's like he escaped."

Your heart drops. A sinking feeling settles in your chest. Dread washes over you at his words.

"W-What?"

another another note: sorry if u expected some sort of romance w jun (which would kinda be weird for the story tbh), but feel free to imagine whatever u want w our dear seokmin. cgrats on making it to the end of the longest oneshot i’ve made so far on this blog 😍🫶

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @ylliris-hanniehae @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @rubywonu @etherealyoungk

[headspace-hotel]

This year has, so far, been for me a series of rapid realizations of what I have been unlearning.

I went to the library. This was a couple weeks ago. I knew I needed to read a book, fiction. I hadn't done so in over a year and it was the longest period of time I had ever gone without doing so. I made a rule: I would only pick books I had never heard of, by authors I had never heard of, and I would not do any preliminary research or even bother to look at what the book was about. I would make my decision on whether to read or not purely on my impression of the title, cover and opening lines.

The book was The Connoisseur by Evan S. Connell. It was kind of a random selection. I sat down with it in a corner of the library and straight up devoured it. I tore through the book within a few hours, without taking a single break. I was captivated. I couldn't put it down.

It is a book about a guy who buys a Mayan figurine in a knickknack shop while he's on a business trip. and becomes obsessed with pre-Columbian sculptural art. There isn't really much of a plot apart from this. He goes to sketchy antique shows, has conversations with museum curators, wealthy art dealers and forgers, and seeks to learn how to distinguish a genuine pre-Columbian piece from a fake one. It was written in the 1970's, so the views on Native Americans are antiquated and sometimes offensive, and there is the troubling thread of the very concept of looting another culture's treasures and treating them as collectibles, though the book is not without commentary on this.

All the same, it was a completely intoxicating read. The vicarious experience of becoming fascinated with a topic and having it unfold a whole world for you was ferociously gripping, and so was the intrigue of the art collecting world itself. The frauds, forgeries, smuggling, museums, academics, aristocrats, auctions and seedy flea markets. Will he ever be able to tell if a piece is "real?" Does it matter if it's "real?" Why does he want to own and possess a piece of art, and how does its "realness" affect that desire? The book leaves you not knowing what to think.

It is a book about curiosity, portrayed in the narrative as a totally unreasonable lightning bolt that strikes a man who has never been fascinated by anything and changes him forever. Why? Why does a Mayan figurine, in particular, speak to him? Why does any piece of art, or any fascinating thing in the world, speak to anyone? It is unknowable.

I went to the library again. I picked a new book using the same rules. This book was Fragile Beasts by Tawni O'Dell. Just like the last time, I was totally captivated. I couldn't put it down.

Did I have a couple major problems with the portrayal of some important aspects of the story? Yes. (It would make the post much longer to discuss.) Was I completely captured by and invested in the story for the time I was reading it? Also yes. The book braids together several very different strands-- the story of a legendary Spanish bullfighter and a wealthy American woman that he loved, two brothers stuck in an ugly family situation after their father's death in a car accident, and a rich old heir to a Pennsylvania coal mining fortune and to the sinister underbelly of her family's business.

There was a lot about baseball, which I know nothing about, and bullfighting, which I know nothing about, and I certainly don't know anything about being a teenaged boy who resents and mistrusts his estranged mother, or an aristocratic old lady who lives in a mansion and eats fancy Spanish food. It was fun to experience so much unfamiliar stuff and to care about things I wouldn't normally care about. Once again I couldn't stop reading until I had finished it.

I don't know that either book was "good," though I thought they were both well written; I just know that reading them was like being hooked up to an IV of something essential and life-giving and feeling it reanimating my body.

It had been a year since I had read any fiction, but it had been much, much longer since I had loved to read. As I became an adult I had become picky and critical about books, and developed a highly sophisticated sense of my taste and the books I considered good- which were very rare. My taste in books became so sophisticated, eventually, that I didn't like books at all anymore.

I had almost withered away from deficiency of that essential nutrient known as STORY. I'd almost crumbled myself into dust from pretentiousness! I may have been terribly wrong about the kinds of things I liked to read, on top of it. And I certainly hadn't realized that story was such an essential nutrient.

"Just entertainment" the pretentious sorts of people might say of a book they think is useless-- but what is entertainment but to absorb your mind in something, and what is absorbing your mind in a book but to experience things you would never have experienced? It expands you and makes you more complicated. It is the study of human existence itself.

Now all I have been able to think about today is finishing my work and going to the library again...

[neodazed]

FREAK LIKE ME [nrk]

Riki let’s you tie him up.

pairings: bf!nishimura riki x fem!reader

tags: estabilished realitionship

warnings: explicit sexual content, light bondage, unprotected sex, nipple-play, oral (m), spitting, switch riki (kinda)

wc: 1905

thank you for 400 followers !! masterlist

‘This is kinda lame so far’ Riki muttered under his breath. 

‘I just started!’ You rolled your eyes at his teasing.

The white ropes you brought in the dollar store a day ago tightened around his wrists prettily. A satisfied smile broke out on your lips, pulling your hands back from where they were working behind his back. Now he was laying back on his trapped arms, looking up at you with exaggerated boredom. You took your place in his lap. 

'Remind me why I agreed to this again?' He asked with a sigh. Having you in his lap is natural and amazing, what's not though is the way he has no access to your body.  

‘Because you love me and want to be treated like a pretty little princess?’ You tilted your head to the side with mock sweetness, the kind that would earn you a pinch on the waist or a swat on your thigh. 

Would, if he could move.  

‘Well, one of those things is certainly true’ A quiet hiss left his mouth when you shifted, now fully sitting on his groin. Not hard yet, but definietly intrigued.  

‘I’ll make both true’ One thing he was surely feeling though was amusement. Because frankly, he couldn’t imagine what you planned to happen tonight, but the excitement and slight mischieve in your tone made him give in, and maybe even look forward to your performance a little bit. 

‘That’s so cute of you, babe’  

You sealed his mouth shut with your own, knowing there was no other way to shut him up. Normally, he would already be feeling you up, fingers digging into every part that feels good or hurts. He responds either way, his already bare upper body pushing against yours, firm jaw turning yours into the right direction, tongue invading fast and shameless. Arms wrapped around his neck, warm muscle battling his, you almost got lost in it. Then you remembered what was the original plan, and pulled away. Leaning back, your hands fell off his nape while you took a quick breath. This goddamn boy always kisses like an animal. 

‘Ohh, we’re starting now?’

He grinned like an idiot, doing his best to mock and provoke you. It didn’t bother you, not really — he was already where you wanted him: under you, bare, all for you to touch. So you just nodded, not answering outright, Your body connected with his when you layed down to place kisses on his neck. Little, sloppy butterfly kisses that turned into bites, bites that turned into teasing kitten licks. He hummed, giving you more access to his skin. Then his head began to drop towards your tits half-spilling out of your tank top, his mouth open and ready to devour. Before he could even get a taste, you grabbed his hair, tugging him back from there. A part of him (only his inner voice, of course), was thinking “oh, she’s getting rough, more than I expected”, and the other one was just annoyed. 

‘You can’t just put your tits in my face and then ban them from me!’ He scoffed like he just experienced the biggest betrayal of his life. 

‘I can though. That’s the whole point.’ You let go of his hair, and pushed him back, admiring the marks you’ve created on his skin. He always looked pretty marked up. 

‘Cruelty?’ — He huffed, then complained some more, just out of spite — ‘What’s with all that tugging, anyway? That’s your idea of topping?’ Voice full of bicker and coyness. God he is annoying. 

‘I’m just doing what you usually do? And I literally just started!’ He couldn’t argue with the first half of your sentence, so he settled on letting you do your thing for a while.  

The thing is, you have always been curious about how sensitive he is. 

His chest, particularly. 

Seemed like this was the right time to find out.  

Riki smirked when your cold hands made contact with his chest, caressing him from his abs to his collarbones. He was about to make a jab at the softness of your touch, when your fingers eventually found his nipples. His smile didn’t dissappear entirely, just faltered, lost some of its arrogance.  

‘That’s kind of kinky’ He managed to let out.

You ignored him this time on purpose. You circled the edge of your cold thumb around his nubs, but he only let out a sound that could translate to him possibly enjoying himself, when you started to rub on it. 

‘Is it? They hardened pretty quick though’ Was the answer to his previous statement. By the way your ass pressed against his clothed dick, he wasn’t sure which you were referring to.  

‘Yeah, cause the temperature of your hand is in minus’ He said in defense, which was somewhat valid, like half of the actual truth.

Because as it turns out, they are, in fact, sensitive. You only chuckled at that. Your thumbs were stroking, pressing, flicking  at them. Your hair was in the way, so you threw it behind your shoulders before you leaned down and gave his nipple an experimental stripe with your tongue. Riki’s body trembled underneath you, letting out a muffled...whine? Moan? Whimper? You’re not sure and it’s not like he’s ever gonna admit it. Your lips suckled on the hard nub, the other one still being taken care of by your fingers. 

‘I have something more suitable to suck on, you know...’

His body tensed up saying these words. If you didn’t know him better, you’d have thought he’s getting uncomfortable, but no. That was to brace himself, to keep his reactions in control. Even if it wasn’t said so, a silent understanding of challenge was looming between your bodies, and he’d be damned if he lost. 

To get back on him (and honestly just out of curiosity), your teeth grazed against the delicate skin. Riki yelped, wishing his hands were free, free to reach out and put you in your place already. 

But not yet. Not now. 

‘Suitable for me, or for you?’ You asked, but your fingers were already working his sweats down.  

‘Both of us’ A grin formed on his lips. He was cocky, yes. And also right.  

Once you pulled all the fabric down, You were met with his proudly standing dick, now obviously worked up. You smeared some of his precum on his head, and watched it drip down onto his enormous length. At first, his size made you nervous, shaking just by facing it. Now, you’re shaking for it. Your hole, to be specific. He was way too aware of that fact, that he can just throw you around however he sees it fit and you’d love it. Maybe that’s partly the reason you wanted to try how it would be to do things on your own pace, just whatever you wanted to try.  

And the best part? Riki had enough security in himself that he let you.  

Well, on the most parts. 

Usually, Riki is undeniably fond of sloppy blowjobs. Like, the ones that get sloppy from how hard he is shoving himself down your throat, to the point your saliva is leaking out from both sides. You are content with that, God so much, but you also had the desire to cherish it more, taste more, feel more. You and your oral-fixation needed both kind, to be honest.  

Back to present activities, you took the shiny mushroom shape inside your lips, humming at the taste invading your senses. He sighed, tilting his head back. Your plump lips were so soft around him, and the way your tongue fickled out so sweetly... 

‘Fuck, Princess. You know I  hate that...’ He grumbled, his arms fidgeting but not actually trying to “escape”.  

‘But I’m just tasting you...’ You pulled off just enough to mumble this out, before going down again, lower this time. The hand-restrain didn’t stop his hips from bucking up into your mouth. 

‘I’ll give you a taste, don’t worry-’  

You pulled off with a clear “pop” sound following.  

‘Seriously...you’re so annoying’ A stupid pout formed on your face without intent. 

‘Aww, baby, I’m sorry. How about you untie my hands and I’ll do the work for you, pretty?’ The offer honestly sounded tempting, but you weren’t done yet. 

You shook a small “no” with your head, putting your hands on his shoulders to sit back. He leaned in, all eager to feast of your lips again, but you atopped him with a finger. 

‘No more kissing.’ 

‘No kissing? Just hardcore BDSM?’ He asked back with deep “understanding”, and it took all your will not to burst out laughing at his sarcastic expression. So you nodded, and shimmied down your underwear, which was already dripping from your arousal.

There was no need for any lubricant if we want to be honest. 

But for you and him, sex was never complete without some sort of spit. 

You held out your palm to him. 

‘Spit.’

His face waa very confused, but he’s not one to deny thar. A drop of clear, sticky liquid coated your fingers. 

The curiosity in his eyes only lasted until you put your wet fingers between your legs, and started to draw circles around your entrance. 

‘Alright, all fun and shit, but that’s my job.’ Now he was starting to get really restless, cause why on earth would you need to that on your own while he’s right there?! 

‘I’m just prepping myself so I can take you’

A kiss on his neck, trying to stay “in character” A gasp you might have overdone a little left your lips. You were excited, but your fingers could never reach the depths Riki’s did. Watching him get frustrated was fun enough to keep it up though. 

‘Exactly, my job. Masturbation between us should only happen mutually, you know. When my dick isn’t abandoned’ He kept talking.  

You had two fingers inside of your hole at this point, another rubbing your clitoris. None of this was to actually prepare you — two tiny fingers for that cock? Yeah neither of you were dumb enough to believe that. The purpose was to help to piss him off more. The eventual stretch as a consequence? Might be the best part.  

‘Just sit on my face then’ Riki tried again.

Dick hard and leaking, every vein looking their best, head colored read from how long he has been holding back. His muscles were tense, his face needy. Needy Riki. Yes, this sight was for sure worth it. 

‘That sounded pretty “subby”

Slick connected your cunt and hand when you stopped working yourself open. And finally, he didn’t have the strength or will to bicker back, to tease. He let out a deep sight, and leaned his head back on the pillows, seemingly accepting the situation. 

When you sinked down on his dick, he still managed to stay still, and just dedicated his every sense to the way you used his body for relief. 

Your thighs started to faintly burn after sitting up and down about eight times. 

‘Please, can you-’  

And then his wrists were immediatelly freed from the white ropes, after he ripped it into two piece with a swift, fast movement of his arms. 

Your face met the bed, hard, and he pounded into you, hard. 

Maybe the tie wasn’t restricting him as much as you thought so. 

[ynanville]

Date// Yuji Itadori

ᯓ content. You and Yuji Itadori planned to go on a amusement park date, you both went on rides and got good food but you were really horny so you told yuji and dragged him into the nearest family bathroom and gave him head.

warnings. mdni. Blowjob, overstimulation, swearing, dirty talk, hair pulling, publix sex.

pairing. Sub!yuji x Dom!reader

word count. 304.

The sun hung high over the amusement park, casting a golden hue over the vibrant rides and laughter that filled the air. You and Yuji Itadori had spent the day racing each other on roller coasters, devouring cotton candy, and winning ridiculous prizes. His laughter was infectious, and each smile he flashed your way made your heart race more than any roller coaster.

After another round of exhilarating rides, you both decided to grab a quick break. You found a cozy corner near the family restroom, its location perfect for a small escape from the bustling crowd.

“Can you believe how fun today has been?” Yuji exclaimed, leaning against the wall with that signature grin of his. You nodded, a playful smile tugging at your lips as you admired his happiness.

“Yeah, but I think I might need a little more excitement,” you teased, giving him a suggestive look.

Yuji’s eyes widened for a moment, and a blush crept across his cheeks. “Oh? What do you have in mind?” he asked, his playful demeanor shifting to something more serious, more electric.

“I don’t know… maybe we could find a quiet place to… continue the fun?” you suggested, your heart racing at the thought.

His gaze darkened with intrigue, and before you knew it, he grabbed your hand and led you toward the family restroom, glancing around to make sure no one was watching. Once inside, the world outside faded away, the noise of the amusement park muffled by the close walls.

As you locked the door behind you, Yuji turned to you, a mix of excitement and nervousness in his eyes. “Are we really doing this?” he asked, a half-smirk playing on his lips.

You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Why not? Just think of it as another thrill ride,” you whispered, leaning in to capture his lips with yours.

The kiss was electric, filled with all the pent-up energy of the day. Yuji responded eagerly, his hands finding their way to your waist as he pressed you against the cool tiles of the restroom wall. The thrill of being in such a public yet secluded place heightened your senses.

“Y/N,” he breathed, breaking the kiss for a moment, his voice low and thick with desire. “This is wild…”

You smirked, pulling back slightly to meet his gaze. “Just trust me.” With that, you sank to your knees in front of him, feeling the rush of adrenaline as you looked up at him. The vulnerability of the moment made your heart race even more.

Yuji’s breath hitched, his eyes darkening with desire. “Are you sure?” he asked, a hint of concern mixed with excitement.

“Absolutely,” you replied, your voice steady as you began to tease him through his jeans, running your fingers over his bulge eliciting a low groan from deep within him. You could feel the tension building as you slowly unbuttoned his pants pulling down hit boxers as his hardened cock sprung out.

You gently kiss at his reddened tip before putting him fully in you're mouth, Yuji let out a captivated gasp, his hands gripping your hair lightly as he fully surrendered to the pleasure. Every movement, every sensation heightened by the thrill of being caught in a secret.

“Y/N— fuckkk you're gonna make me cum already,” he mumbled, his voice thick with pleasure as you continued to take him down your throat, his puffy tip teasing the back of your throat as he whimpers pushing you're head further down on his cock. The sound of his voice only fueled your desire to please him further.

The restroom felt like a separate world, one where you and Yuji could explore this new side of your relationship without any distractions. The combination of excitement, risk, and intimacy sent shockwaves through both of you, leaving you breathless as you lost track of everything but each other.

[i-have-stolen-endless-names]

The Devil In Love - Chapter 1 "The First Step"

Possible Trigger Warnings

>>Alucard is a Warning on his own.<<

Overall Yandere Themes

Mentions of: Manipulation, Stalking, Alucard is thinking of biting you and drinking your blood, the beginning of obsessive and possessive behavior

Minors please do not interact!

Content

Reader is working at the Hellsing manor as a housekeeper

Story is set before the happenings of Hellsing - Still Spoilers ahead

Reader is gender neutral, no pronouns are used but "you"

Age, ethnicity, height, weight and any other physical attributes are never mentioned. You are free and encouraged to imagine yourself or an OC in this scenario.

Summary

Overall a rather harmless chapter

Alucard and Reader get to know each other better

Index

Previous Chapter: Prologue Next Chapter: In A Demons Embrace

Follow me for more!

Technology always interested him. The allure of modernity was something this old vampire was very curious about. Computer… the internet… Humanity evolved so quickly. This little invisible network they created was the closest they would ever have to magic. At least for those who have no access to such an ancient power. However, he must admit, those new courting rules were curious to him.

Alucard was by no means a foolish man. He had been very intelligent from the start. Had he been born in a time not torn apart by war, he could have had chances to become a great man. Not a man stained with blood. Not a man who was corrupted with power.

Nonetheless, the shift of old world courting and modern dating was… a curious thing. He had many lovers in his old life. Women, men, people who were neither or all at once. If he had any more knowledge about the "modern slang" he most likely would be labelled as pansexual. Nothing would stop this man from pursuing what he wanted. What he needed. His reason for desire was currently busy.

You were busy. Typing away on the keyboard in front of a massive computer. Hellsing had the most modern technology available and yet it all still looked so very chunky.

Not even Alucard could imagine that in a few years everything would change. As usual, he had been watching you for a while before he manifested behind you. Ittook so adorably long for you to notice him. The startled noise that left you amused him immensely. "Good evening."A sharp fanged grin welcomed you. His presence made you still a bit nervous. How delectable

"Good evening….I did not hear you come in." Your comment made him chuckle. He rarely used doors. Sliding through the walls was much more amusing. Especially when he could scare you in the process. "A library is supposed to be quiet, is it not?" His eyes narrowed with mirth. "May I join you?"

Always so polite, one could almost forget that he was a monster lusting after you. Once you have given him permission he sat next to you. Perhaps he had pulled the chair intentionally way too close to yours. Your knees were touching.

"What is the little help doing, mh?" One of the many nicknames he had given you. "Taking a break. I was checking this new website and…" You startled to babble about whatever currently interested you. His lips curled upward and he listened intently to you.

lt was curious, really, how suddenly he felt himself intrigued by your interests. Perhaps he should gain some more information about your little hobbies. He listened… and listened…

At one point he threaded his fingers together and leaned back in the chair. It almost appeared as if the vampire was content simply letting you talk for a very long time. Until you started to change the topic.

"On that note, there had not been many vampire attacks recently, have there?" Look at you, showing interest in his work as well. Or maybe you just had false hope that no more ghouls would threaten humanities existence. "How perceptive of you. I indeed have not been called to any mission for a while now."

Drinking from blood bags was simply not the same as devouring some hot blooded little thing, like you.

"What do you do when you are not out and about shooting ghouls?" Your question took him a bit off guard. What did he do? Aside from suffering nightmares and remembering the past…

Surely you would not appreciate being told that he was watching you so often. Even though he was a monster he still had his charm, in his own twisted way. Seemingly you took his silence as nothing positive, the little frown on your face was precious. "I enjoy going to the library."

Hellsings library was big. It offered books, computer and a silent space to do other things. Once he had seen a little maid painting in this room. The room simply offered many possibilities. "You should join me more often." What a horrible mistake to make. Perhaps you see him as this little thing that needed coddling.

Maybe you were simply lonely and sought any company you could get. Whatever it was… he could not stop the grin from forming onto his lips. Your occasional "accidental" meetings now had turned into something much more frequent and willing.

It may not occur to you but you were blindly feeding into his obsession. Like a little lamb strutting over to the wolf, so naive…

"It would be my greatest pleasure." For the first time in centuries something else than bloodshed excited him.

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Comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated. Please engage with this post if you want me to continue writing. I hope you enjoyed it!

[cillians-sweetheart]

Matthew Joy x siren!reader

aww cute idea! I'm not sure if you wanted smut so I did a little 🤭 also sorry if it's not very good, I've never wrote mermaid x human before. (my bad the titles kinda lame too)

Treasures of the Water - Matthew Joy

Matthew Joy(26) x Siren/Mermaid!Reader(116)

Plot: When taking a quick break by the lake, Matthew is greeted by a curious mermaid who craves to explore the body of a human man.

Content: somewhat nude reader, kissing, hand-job (m), oral (m), unaware reader, kinda fluff at the end

The long haired man walked with slow, light steps through the sand to the large rocks along the shore line. His head laid low and his clothes were old and torn. I watched from afar with just my eyes above the water's surface. It was such an alluring sight. A real human man with long, beautiful legs.

Coming to the edge of the moss covered boulder, He sat and rolled the fabric over his legs up his ankles, and to his knees. His legs submerged into the water and his head lifted. 

I hid myself beneath the surface and swam discreetly towards him. 

The man sighed and his head fell once again to the subtle waves brushing against his skin. The land around him had been quiet and empty. Nothing but the sounds of the wind in the trees and small birds in the trees. He was miles away from his crew, deep into the forest where he had discovered the long, spacious lake I called home. 

My eagerness grew, and I swam faster like a bullet through the water. The movement caught his attention and he watched as a long figure cut through the water towards him. He froze in fear. 

I stopped suddenly just a meter away from him, still under the water. His eyes scanned over the water with confusion, looking for the strange creature that had been seemingly coming for him. And suddenly the top of my head began to rise from the water before him. His eyes grew wide and he froze in his spot. The man leaned back as my eyes came through the surface looking deeply through his eyes. . 

Now being so close, I could see the odd beauty of his bright blue eyes, and pink lips. I could’ve never known a human man could be so beautiful. 

My face slowly became exposed from beneath the water. Gently with my eyes locked on his, I swam up as close as I could to the handsome man. I rose more from the water just between his legs. My face, and nude chest lifted higher to his face; a face I melted into, and dreamt of devouring in that very moment. So proportioned, without gills or scales. 

The man stuttered, and his eyes glared from my face to my bare, perky breasts. In response my head tilted with curiosity to the emotions he expressed. So intriguing he was. 

I caressed his thigh -and with the siren power of my eyes- made him fall into my gaze. 

“A mermaid…” He was almost speechless, “You’re so beautiful…” he spoke softly and his face leaning down closer to mine. I too leaned closer to his distinctive face. “Who are you?” He asked with his eyes glued to my stiff nipples just resting on the water's surface. I hadn’t answered the man, as I hadn’t understood his question.

I held my hands onto his thighs and pulled my face up higher to his. Almost able to taste his lips from the closeness between us. And finally he sunk those pretty, plump lips onto mine. My tail beneath the water shivered with pleasure of the feeling of a man’s lips. 

Suddenly as my hands lifted up his thighs, I felt the fabric of his pants tightening, and rising.

I pulled my lips back from his and peered down at the aching bulge in his pants. The man’s face grew red with embarrassment, and his legs twitched. 

“I-I’m sorry,” he stuttered. “It’s been a really long time since I’ve been around a woman… with breasts like that..” His mouth almost watered, staring at my chest. 

The language he spoke was unfamiliar, but the look in his eyes told me what he was thinking. I took his shaky hand in mine and held it cupped around my breast. My eyes stared up into his, praying to have answered his desires. 

He hadn't spoken but the length between him grew larger and had been twitching like a fish stuck beneath the sand. And as that usually ended, the fish would die. I could not dare to let him die. Not like this. 

I quickly grabbed onto the waistband on his pants and ripped the fabric down his thighs. He jumped and leaned back with surprise. And before my eyes, a long limb was revealed under those suffocating clothes. Pink at the top and aching in need. Finally with freedom.

It was an intriguing sight; electrifying. I reached my delicate fingers out to touch the smooth, hot skin. And I pulled back as he shivered and twitched at my touch as if it had caused him pain. 

“No…no it’s okay,” He paused and panted. “You can touch.” 

Not understanding his words, he took his cock in his hands and just lightly stroked it. He groaned and removed his hand to be replaced with mine. I mimicked his actions lightly gliding my fingers and palm against the veiny skin. My eyes darted up and down from his eyes to my stroking hand, gripped firmly around him. And his eyes seemed lost in between my breasts, face and soft hand. “Oh that’s good” He sighed heavily leaning back even further against the rock. His eyes were barely open and he groaned and twitched each time my hand squeezed around the wet, pink tip. 

Holding that tip in my palm, I messaged it the way I would to ease and open a clam for its delicate, shimmery pearls. And just as I would have expected, a pearl of white fluids built up from his tip and wet my hand. I had not been aware the human man could resemble so much as the glamorous clam; full of treasures. 

I wondered, did this man also taste of a clam? Curiously with his head leaned back, I lowered mine and licked over the soft flesh. The man twitched and shivered, his head whipping up looking at my tongue trace delicately along the salty tip, like the sweet ocean. It hadn’t tasted like a clam, but yet, it was delightful. A new, fascinating flavour that couldn’t be found in the waters of the deep lake. 

The man's hips began to lift, and buck gently but desperately into my mouth. I took the odd sign as he wanted more and repeated the stroking I had done with my hands with my velvety lips. His groans and eager moans silenced the forest, and the flowing creek that traveled around the lake.

I noticed -not only the limb of his deep in my throat- but his hands, and legs shaking and his hands gripping to the rock, causing his peachy flesh to turn white. His breath turned laboured and his sighs were hot, and heavy. “Yes… yes just like that..” He grunted with his eyes squeezing closed. 

More of that satisfying, distinct fluid of his coated bits of my tongue. Something about it being so delightful, made me need more. 

I sucked hungrily, bobbing my head swiftly. With the sudden suction of my cheeks around his flesh, thick amounts of his sweetness shot deep into my throat and filled my cheeks like a pufferfish. Finally the man’s eyes opened as I swallowed the creamy fluid like water. 

“Damn… He groaned seeing it flow down my throat so easily. “Oh my god… I got sucked off by a mermaid…” He looked around in disbelief, now after finishing coming to his senses. But I still hadn’t understood a word he said, or the expression on his face. I continued to stare up at him from the water while he sat there without a word. “ I uh,” He froze, thinking to himself for a moment. “Give me a minute.” He stood from the rock and my eyes followed his face, going higher and higher above me. I watched as he lifted the fabric covering his torso over his head, and ripped away the rest of his pants. He was nothing but pure, bare flesh, slowly entering the deep water. He stepped deeper into the water from the sandy shore until he was just inches away from me. Fearfully his hand reached out to my hair. I at first moved back, but then let him touch my silky strands. His eyes held pure amazement and adoration. 

“I’ve always believed in mermaids,” He said softly, looking deep into my eyes. “I just never knew they could look like you.” A light grin grew on his plump lips. He took a moment admiring all the unique features of my face. “Do you understand what I am saying?” His head tilted and he pointed to his mouth. “Can you speak?” 

I looked at him with confusion and the man continued making gestures towards his mouth and speaking widely. Giving up, he laughed and inched closer through the water to me until our chest just barely brushed against each other. His hands lightly caressed down my arms and his face leaned down to mine, kissing my lips ever so gently. At first I did nothing but sit there, but feeling him I learned to mimic his actions; kissing back. “Someday, I’ll come back for you,” He smiled. “And I will teach you to speak so you can understand me when I tell you that I love you.”

[sai-int]

Hi! This is the first time I make request and sorry if my english isn't good but I've been reading a lot of smut of daryl lately and now i am craving some angst. Could you write one where the reader is younger than daryl (maybe she's around 23) and she has a huge crush on him but daryl doesn't want too acknowledge her feelings because she's younger than him. But then daryl realised that he's crazy about her too when reader is trying to move on from him.

Thank you! Mwah!

I turned this into smut, and kinda strayed away from what you asked I'm so sorry, also i just found this in my drafts from like a year ago, i am SO sorry pookie

-> not proofread, straight stream of consciousness vibes

farm!daryl, kinda smut, mdni, ignore the lack of capitalization, I did this on my phone

from the second he saw you smoking way up in that tree, he knew he'd be better off hightailing it back to atlanta.

the eldest greene sister. and boy did herschel have a lot to say. When daryl and his group arrived at herschel's farm, daryl's initial thought was that it must've been a weed farm, mainly because he could smell the damn plant from at least a mile away.

okay, not really. herschel picked up on the scent as he greeted the group outside and followed daryl's gaze to you, propped up in a tree, puffing away at your diy bible-rolled joint as you doodled in a notebook

"would you stop with the damn plants for a second? We have visitors." herschel called out to you. you hopped on out of the tree and made your way over to the group, snuffing out the joint and stuffing it in your pocket for later.

what? it's not like there's anywhere you could buy some more.

"thought we weren't taking anybody in?" you said to your dad, sizing up the group before your eyes landed in daryl.

herschel had responded, but either the weed kicked in or the world must've suddenly gone mute, because the only thing you could hear was your heart beating.

he had made eye contact with you, but quickly adverted his eyes and fixated on the grass, which became the most intriguing thing in the world to him.

herschel continued talking and negotiating with the group's leader as you stood there, your eyes flickering between daryl and the rest of the group.

herschel had allowed them to stay until a kid you discovered to be carl–who got shot by otis) heals up. much to your dismay, you could see the brooding archer setting up camp right underneath your designated smoke spot. not that you minded having a man that absolutely devour-able underneath you as you indulged, but it was still your tree. you had headed inside to make some dinner for carl when you spotted him through the kitchen window.

you quickly stomped your way out of the main house to your tree- his tent. he had just snuffed out his fire and zipped up his tent for the night.

"you're camping out under my tree." you said matter-of-factly, standing outside of his tent and perfectly aware that he can hear you through the thin fabric.

"it ain't yer tree, sunshine." he grumbled from inside the tent.

"it's not your land."

"ya can't make a tree yer property... ain't how that works."

"oh but that is how it works.."

you could hear a mumbled response, but you were already rounding the tent and making your way up the tree before you could make sense of it.

it wasn't long before the smell permeated his tent. he didn't mind the smell of weed, if anything, it enticed him to join you. but god was he exhausted.

perhaps, he wasn't exhausted enough. he relented and opened his tent and turned around, trying to find you through the darkness. like you had night vision, you could see him looking up, almost directly at you.

"plan on joining me? or you just gonna stare at me little while longer?" You called down to him.

"ya gon' share?" he said loud enough for you to hear him, but not enough to wake the others.

"come and find out.." you teased. not only did weed make you generous, but it turned you on too. flirting with the clearly older man was not on your playbook, but then again, neither was the end of the world.

christ almighty this was a new low. definitely sativa.

he made his way up the tree with ease, the smell of weed growing stronger as he made his way closer to you. he sat down across from you. the thick branches of the willow tree would support you both. The fiery glow from the bud briefly illuminated your face as you inhaled

to daryl, you were much prettier than you were earlier. he could see the way your rosy lips had briefly trapped the filtered end of the joint before inhaling, and the warmth in your cheeks under the moonlight. yeah, he was definitely feeling the second-hand high.

wordlessly, you held out the joint to the older man, smiling softly as he took it from your grasp and placed his lips around it.

he took his fair share of hits as you shamelessly admired him. his looks weren't lost on you, and yours most defintely were not lost on him. maybe it was the weed, or the way you tits sat in you shirt, or the way your hair seemed to perfectly frame your face, or even the look in your eye, but he slowly felt himself shuffling over to you, suddenly longing to feel your skin on his.

as he sat closer, the smell of weed seemed to fade away as your aroma his him like a brick. the vanilla in your remaining body wash had been swept up by the wind, imbuing his senses, sending a wave of sparks straight to his cock.

the tension was palpable. he looked into your longing eyes. he knew what you wanted. he wanted it too.

"we can't- yer old man he'd-" he mumbled, ignoring the way your eyes burned his skin, and most defitnely trying to ignore the way his pants strained around him.

"we can," you cut him off in the same quiet fashion, your hand finding his thigh as if it had a mind of its own.

the second you touched him, he could feel himself bending to your will, his mind slowly twisting into mush. he saw the redness in your eyes and knew you were just as gone as he was.

within seconds you planted your lips onto his, molding together instantly. his rough hands found their way to your hips as he maneuvered you on top of him.

you could feel his cock straining in his pants as you instinctively pressed yourself into him. he could feel the heat from your cunt radiating onto him as you mewled from the friction. your teeth caught your lip as you remembered that you couldn't be too loud. he looked up at you, his heart pounding and reverberating through his bones. you began to grind on him as he held you firmly against him, his head tipping back and against the larger trunk of the tree as he kneaded the fat of your hips.

he pressed you harder against him, moving your hips to grind against him as he instinctively bucked his hips into you. his clothed cock rubbed repeated and merciless strokes against your clit. his hands snaked their way up your back and neck, eventually grabbing a fist full of hair from the nape of your neck. he pulled backward, latching his lips to your neck, feeling your heart beat erratically underneath your skin.

"f- fuck..." you mewled into his ear. daryl wanted that sound on repeat 24/7. you felt yourself begin to drip past your panties and soaking your cotton shorts. your hands rested on his hard chest, feeling his body shutter with every stroke of your hips.

daryl could embarrassingly feel his climax approaching as he pressed himself into your heat. the coil that tightened inside brought him some semblance of clarity from his high. He stilled your hips with his hands and pulled you off him.

"what the fu-"

"I ain't gonna cum inside m'pants like some damn teenager... 'f 's gon' be anywhere, its gon' be inside ya." he said quietly, his lips grazing your ear as he whispered, still holding you close.

masterlist

[bluessmutifyplaylist]

....... You are about to REGRET opening up request because I am ungodly horny (at all times).

Can I get Ruggie and Rook sharing a GN AFAB reader as their "prey". Lowkey devouring and leaving an obscene amount of marks.

Rook is running the show.... And his mouth.... and Rugs is just happy to put his own mouth to use. Tail wagging. Reader overstimulated and whimpering, but happy to "feed" her boys.

(I apologize for my atrocities. Have fun with this prompt lol.)

I asked for it lol

Warnings: Oral (Rook and Reader receiving), voyeurism (on Rook’s part), Rook is dominant, Ruggie and Reader are subs, Reader has a vagina but uses gender-neutral pronouns, brink of penetration

Ruggie Bucchi & Rook Hunt

You don’t remember how you got here. To be fair, you don’t remember much of anything. You were overstimulated beyond belief. However, your moans were muffled because you were gagging on a certain hunter’s dick. You couldn’t squirm much either because a certain hyena kept your hips still as he moaned into your cunt.

Well, if we roll back the tapes, Rook has always been a bit of a voyeur. He loves stalking people, so he was bound to see you and Ruggie having a rather passionate moment. However, you broke away when you asked if he could dominate you this time.

Unfortunately, it is not in a male hyena’s nature to be dominant. He was hesitant, and he was embarrassed that it wasn’t good enough. You pet his ears as you told him that it was alright, which gave the hunter an idea: what if he joined you both? That way you both could be satisfied in a ménage à trois.

When he asked you both, you were totally freaked out that he was spying on you both. But, the idea intrigued you two, and you talked about it. Ruggie agreed to it, and that’s how you ended up in this situation.

You hadn’t even been properly fucked yet, but you were already losing your mind. Now, you would be whimpering and moaning, begging for more, but because you were choking on Rook’s cock. Ruggie was in between your legs, face covered in your juices, tail wagging as he had one hand wrapped around your thigh to keep you still and one hand in his pants jerking himself off.

Eventually, Rook stilled with a groan, and you felt him cumming in your mouth. You would have to thank Vil for making the entire dorm go on a healthy diet, as it really made the Vice Housewarden’s cum taste good… Second thought, maybe you shouldn’t thank Vil.

“Who knew the trickster was so good at listening? They even swallowed without my having to tell them to! And Le Monsieur Dent-de-Lion! I could feel them trying to moan because of the pleasure you were giving them!” You were so confused on how this man was not panting from how hard he was thrusting into your mouth. Your jaw was sore.

“You should be down here next, Rook. They taste like heaven on Earth~” Ruggie snickered, wiping his mouth on his arm.

“I believe I should! Bonne idée!” He exclaimed. However, instead of getting in position to eat you out, he lined his cock up with your entrance. You looked to Ruggie to see if he had any issues with it, but he was already leaning his head back in pleasure as he stroked his own dick at an agonizing pace, waiting for you two to begin.

[toodelusionalforreality]

Azriel x OC | Chapter 10

Azriel

Both his brothers are mated. Both his brothers are happily in love. But after five centuries of rejection, Azriel doesn’t hope for such luxury in his life. When he meets the bar owner who is too mysterious even for the spymaster to decipher, his intrigue turns into more. Lines between mystery and secret blur. The closer he gets to her, the more his instincts warn him to stay away.

Previous Chapter: Whore

Word count: ~2.6k Warning: None [ROMANCE]

A/N: This is an experimental piece of work. I'm testing a writing style, so feedback is welcome. I wanted to post it along with the next one as this is the shortest chapter so far but writing this made me really happy and I couldn't wait to share it. Hope you enjoy!

Soft glow slipped through the cracks and lit the bottom of the stairs. Glasses clinked and clanked. Two familiar voices bantered and laughed, oblivious to the uninvited guest upstairs.

Yet, every one of his senses honed in on the other side of the door. Azriel knocked again. Three short raps.

It was late when he arrived in Velaris. After spending weeks in an enemy territory with nothing but time to mull over the different ways Ayla could be in danger, Azriel looked forward to quieting those fears for good. However, his hope was short-lived.

The summons rang clear in his mind as soon as he breached the wards. For all that Rhys put him through, Azriel hadn’t been eager to face him this soon. It wasn’t a request, though, a High Lord’s order.

He learnt everything there was to learn in less than a day or two, after all, the state of Spring hadn’t improved from what he heard last. Tamlin refusing to take his fae form, wandering through the forests like a mindless predator on the prowl. The lands left unmanned and open to scavengers and vicious creatures alike. Villages lay in ruins as though the people had abandoned the court like their High Lord had done to them. Every now and then, a few Children of the Blessed strays crossed the borders freely without the Wall separating them.

Wilderness consumed the endless meadows, dark and gloomy, the lands devouring everything under the sun as if to cleanse the blood spilt on them. The beauty that once disguised the atrocities for centuries finally cracked, turning into something sinister, unrecognisable. 

If Azriel had any kindness left in him, he would pity Tamlin.

Despite his reports, he was ordered to stay put for weeks. It was a fitting punishment for dismissing a direct command and leaving the city without a word. Deep down, Azriel also knew there was more to it, and his suspicions were confirmed when Rhys insisted on meeting that very night.

His shadows, unwilling to be stalled further, disappeared while he suffered through a long recounting of what he witnessed down to every agonising detail. He expected Rhys to mention Ayla or their altercation at least once, but he didn’t.

No sooner had Azriel stepped out of the River House, a scroll wafted out of the stretch of darkness cast by his stature and inky mists rose up to meet him. Months of restraint that held him together shattered at the sight of the unmistakable sigil of the Court of Nightmares on the concocted seal of black and silver.

Open the door.

There were no names of the victims in the report—each one deemed unimportant, leaving Azriel’s mind churn with fresh fears. The face of the harlot, innocent and hopeful, as flames consumed the vines, the curtains, her red dress, while she waited. Her bright smile as she spoke of the impostor, her Ayla.

Nothing but a husk in her place now. No one to claim or mourn her. 

Azriel shouldn’t have left Velaris. He shouldn’t have left her.

Open the door!

Crimes happened in Hewn City every day, and the pleasure house was an insignificant establishment, to put it mildly. Then why did Keir call upon Rhys? It must have been the impostor’s ploy, too; it had to be.

His knuckles met the wood with a force that bordered on pounding.

Rhys had known of this attack and forbade his early return to keep him out of investigations. Earlier that night, he regarded him with a calculating stare like he was waiting for the right opportunity, a predator waiting for the perfect moment to pick on its prey. Yet, he didn’t utter a word.

Azriel pinched his eyes shut. The air grew thick. Splinters dug into his fingers. Shadows dancing in front of him coiled around his arms and shoulders, pulling him back. For the first time, the silence and darkness he had preferred all his life felt suffocating.

Then, he heard it. Footfalls, the faintest he had ever heard, right before the door swung open.

Ayla stepped out, her eyes on his hand gripping the doorframe with his might, and beyond it down the stairs. Perhaps to find one of her friends, Azriel realised. Her gaze, bright and alert, rose up to his face. A delicate brow lifted in a perfect arc. ‘It’s late.’

The remnant of voices faded. Lights flickered out. A door creaked shut in the distance. And Azriel stood still, every thought eddying out of his mind.

Her pale shirt slipped down the curve of her shoulder, the toggles fastened just enough to hold it together as though she barely managed to pull the crumpled thing on moments ago. Silky tendrils came undone from her braid, teasing her neck, and fluttered under his shuddered breath. Heat radiated from her, warm and real, that even drew his shadows closer. 

Azriel swallowed thickly.

Unimpressed by his silence, Ayla said, ‘What are you doing here?’

There was no anger in her words, nor surprise. Azriel wasn’t sure if she even expected an answer. He asked instead, ‘Are you alone?’

A smile grazed her lips, and Ayla looked away. ‘And what if I were?’ She took a step back, then another, backing into the loft.

Azriel matched her, step for step, his feet carrying him on their own. ‘Tell me it’s over.’

‘What is?’

A soft click echoed behind him. The room plunged into darkness, leaving her trapped alone with him. Her scent, sharp and unadulterated, marking every corner of the room, enveloped him. Azriel drew in another long breath and released it, realising she hadn’t taken anyone while he was gone. ‘You know,’ he said, a mere whisper, ‘The strangers. The late nights.’

Ayla hummed. ‘Why?’

Only a word, and Azriel was speechless. How was he supposed to convince her that the males she brought home were spies? Would she believe the spy of the High Lord she mistrusted? Just a warning should suffice till he fixed this, however, Ayla was too prideful and cynical to accept it from him.

A low chuckle interrupted his thoughts. ‘Which is troubling you? The strangers?’ Her head tipped to the side as she moved deeper and deeper into the chamber. ‘Or the late nights?’

‘It isn’t safe—’

‘You watch me.’ Azriel halted, and so did she, waiting for him to say something. Deny it, admit it. ‘Is that why? For my safety?’

The shadows had always been discreet, or so they made him believe. But as they darted away from his sight, hiding behind his wings, he was convinced Ayla knew more than he did. Azriel couldn’t be blamed for their mischief, and the touches they stole on his behalf were harmless, unlike what the others were capable of.

‘Or is that what you like, shadowsinger?’ Ayla whispered, her voice carrying a sinful note. ‘Do you prefer watching only me or. . .’

Her lips lifted in the way he was familiar with, the way when she was sure she had her opponent deciphered. 

Gods, the insinuation that he was twisted, which Azriel wasn’t far from, but to imply he would crave anyone but her— His throat closed up. A chill went down his spine. It was a trap, a delicious, enticing trap that he wanted to fall prey to. With each ragged breath, his resolve chipped away.

‘This isn’t about me,’ Azriel said more to himself than her, reminding himself of the purpose of his visit. He continued on his path, and she did as well. ‘You shouldn’t be so careless with who you invite in.’

The words came out harsher than he intended, but he couldn’t think past the shrinking distance between them as she slowed her steps or her bared throat as she craned her neck to meet his eyes.

‘I let you in.’

Azriel leaned close, close enough to notice the slight tremble of her lips when she took a breath. ‘End the games, Ayla.’

The finality in his tone rendered her stunned. Ayla blinked twice, and her smile faded. Her lips parted slowly, for a taunt or a threat that never came, as a soft thump interrupted her. Her eyes widening, she stumbled back. She reached forward, fingers grasping at his chest and failing to find purchase in the smooth leathers. 

Azriel slipped his arm around her waist without a thought, the act as easy as breathing. Something knocked into the back of his legs. His wings flared on instinct, but a weight bore them down until he lost his footing and the two fell together.

Holding her close, he braced his weight on his other arm, and his knee sank into plushness. It took him a moment to realise it wasn’t his shadows that broke the fall but her bed. 

The frenzied hum droning in his ears, the heaviness on his back holding him down; Azriel was a fool to trust them around Ayla.

Her heart rattled from their near fall, the sound drowning every rational thought in his mind. Her chest heaved with short, hurried breaths. Ayla was more than capable of getting out of his hold, throwing him off her, and yet, her hands lay by her side as though she had surrendered to fate, to him.

His instincts dictated that he pull away, walk out the door before he did something regrettable.

Maybe he never returned from Spring. Maybe he was poisoned, and maybe this was an elaborate hallucination conjured by his mind to numb its effects. 

But every inch of his body came alive in her presence; achingly aware of her warmth cradling him, her pliant and supple flesh sinking under his fingers, and those eyes. Those damning eyes basking in the glow of his siphons, glimmering like dancing pits of moonless sky, and they shone with something akin to awe as she searched his face. What she saw in him to be worthy of that gaze, Azriel didn’t know.

‘I can’t believe you let me do it,’ said Ayla, any trace of amusement gone. ‘When you didn’t return, I thought you changed your mind.’ A note of sincerity tinged her quiet confession.

‘You wanted to make it fair,’ argued Azriel.

Ayla chuckled almost in disbelief. ‘You let me bed them for fairness?’ Her breaths warmed his skin, and his own rose to match hers.

‘It’s what you wanted,’ Azriel voiced the mantra that kept him sane through this insanity, though in that moment, he hardly believed those words himself.

Unable to hold her gaze anymore, he stared at her pulse fluttering at the base of her neck. The mesmerising beat, a contrast to his raging thoughts, grounded him. Would a taste hurt? He could cherish it for the remainder of his life when this eventually came to an end.

His head barely dipped, her breath hitched.

‘Were you—’ a sigh left Ayla’s lips, tickling the shell of his ear. ‘You wanted to be chosen over the others.’

Azriel stilled. The accusation hung heavy and thick between them, and he almost fell for it. He looked up, expecting another one of that triumphant quirk of her lips; instead, he found naked observation in her eyes, curious even. Like she had been the one plagued with inescapable need and ache for months, the one in fear’s clutches helplessly caged in this wickedness.

Breathless, Ayla glanced at his lips.

Or maybe, she was right.

Azriel panted after the one who never desired him and the other who wasn’t meant to be his. Centuries wasted yearning for this. It was all he knew, to live in the distance, to pray for a swift end so he wasn’t riddled with hope. A part of him wondered if Ayla longed for him, if she sought him without the intervention of fate, he could be worthy of this.

Ayla drew another long breath. ‘Azriel.’

A shiver rolled down his spine. Azriel had dreamt of this moment before. Their first time, he had stolen the kiss from her. He had vowed to make it right the next time. He would stare into her eyes, watch the desire pool in them, trace the curve of her jaw with his scarred fingers. He would make her anticipate more, ask for more. When she was a blushing mess for him, he would kiss her gently. Taste her slowly. First, her lips. Then, her skin. And if she allowed, maybe more. That’s what his mate deserved.

But when Ayla whispered his name with intent—testing it on her tongue, savouring it—Azriel crashed his lips on hers.

And this time, there was no hesitation.

Ayla wrapped her legs around his waist and tugged him flush against her, while her hands smoothed over his chest. When Azriel tried to restore some distance between them again, she slipped her fingers into the collar of his leathers and pulled him back.

Azriel sucked on her lip. Ayla flicked his with the tip of her tongue.

Azriel tightened his arm around her. Ayla sighed against him.

Azriel trailed a path down her jaw, where his blade had once left a bruise, each kiss an apology due. Through the sharpness of her fragrance he adored, he scented something else, something so, so sweet that it fractured his mind, nearly ripping a pathetic moan out of him. He licked a long strip up her neck, wanting to taste something, anything.

Ayla arched her back, allowing him to mark her to his content. Her hands wandered all over him, gripping his shoulder, feeling his back, easing in between them and—

Azriel choked on his breath. Prying her hands off him, he pinned them by her sides. Her greedy little act sobered him before he let it get too far. He couldn’t do it, not with her.

‘Not yet,’ he mumbled into her skin. His forehead pressed against her cheek, he inhaled deeply. ‘Not like this.’

The words he itched to say—ones that singed his tongue—Not like those males. And Ayla nodded like she understood.

And in the moments of their waning desires, Azriel revelled in the sound of her heart calming to a steady beat, his lips ghosting over her skin, sneaking unsuspecting kisses.

‘What are they doing?’ Ayla asked quietly, her voice laced with curiosity.

Azriel looked up to find her attention drawn to something behind him. Shadows darted back and forth, teetering over his shoulders. ‘They want to touch you.’

Ayla blinked. Her brows pulled together as she turned to him. ‘You mean you want to touch me?’

‘I’m not denying it,’ Azriel chuckled at her unabashed words and unflinching gaze. A familiar buzz rang in his ears, angry and impatient. ‘The shadows can think for themselves. Right now, they are feeling neglected.’

Ayla stared at them for a moment, studying their movements. The wisps of darkness coloured smoky blue under the siphons’ light. She raised a tentative hand, and the shadows reached back. First, barely a touch to her finger and when she held still, they engulfed her hand. Ayla gasped a laugh at the sensation, her chest sinking under him. She glided her hand through the air, and they swayed along, chasing her skin.

‘They are beautiful,’ said Ayla, enthralled by the ribbons of misty darkness weaving through her fingers.

The shadows went silent, frozen for a beat before writhing down her forearm as if to indulge her, chanting her word like a badge of honour.

‘They feel the same about you,’ said Azriel. One of the rare few things they agreed on lately.

Ayla blinked, then broke into laughter, the sweetest melody he had ever heard, and draped the shadow-gloved hand over his shoulder. ‘There were more than eight, weren’t there?’

Resisting a smile, Azriel pecked her cheek. It didn’t matter anymore.

[mmogurl]

In The Shadow of Dragons Chapter 4: Tastes Like Venom

18+ | 5k | Daemon Targaryen X Female OC | possessive, protective, objectifying, simping, raunchy Daemon | Uncle / niece incest, Smut, Dragons, Virgin, First Time Sex, Political Intrigue, Plotting, Murder, lots of old timey concepts that don't make a lot of sense today, but are still kind of hot/fun.

Things are about to get really saucy in this chapter! Not everyone is thrilled to hear the announcement of Ryna's courtship to Daemon. Ryna's POV this time.

CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5 | CH 6 | CH 7 | CH 8 | CH 9 Also on AO3

He had actually done it. Daemon had somehow managed to convince her father to let them wed. Well, not to permit them to formally wed just yet, but rather to allow them to engage in courtship, which in turn would ideally lead to their eventual union. Ryna’s heart was soaring as she left her chambers, her stride long and determined as she walked the long and empty corridors towards the dining hall.

Ryna felt indomitable, maybe even a little cocky, as though nothing could stop her today. Not when she was armed with the knowledge that everything she had envisioned might actually come to pass. It seemed luck was on her side, and she would certainly seize the advantage and make the most of it.

The stone corridor opened up into a small flight of stairs, no more than six or seven steps in height. She held her skirts up slightly as she made her way down and took in this morning’s attendees. The entire family was not present, but many were, including her good-mother, Alicent, as well as her children: Aegon, Aeomond, and Helaena. Rhaenyra was also in attendance, but Laenor was nowhere to be seen, nor were their children. Perhaps, she had not felt like wrangling them on this particular morning.

Most importantly, her father was present, sitting at the high end of the table with Damon directly beside him at the corner. Daemon’s gaze darted to her as she entered the hall, his eyes taking in every detail with a smirk as though he were a calculating predator sizing up his prey. The seat next to him was empty and she had every intention of taking her place there.

“Good Morrow, family,” she said cheerfully as she walked down the length of the table.

Daemon stood to greet her as she approached and pulled out the chair next to him.

“Good Morrow, sweetling,” her uncle returned her greeting with a wolfish smile.

His eyes were practically devouring her whole, taking in every sway of her hips, his body practically thrumming in response to her proximity. She tried her best to ignore it for now, lest she make a fool of herself in front of everyone. Daemon dutifully pushed her chair in once she took a seat and sat down beside her.

“How fare you this morning, Daughter?” Viserys asked with a forced smile. His eyes were bloodshot and weary, a testament to the amount of wine he had imbibed the night before.

“I am well, Father. Thank you,” she said with a bright smile. Ryna had never been so pleased with her father before, not that she could remember at least. He’d given her a precious gift and she was ecstatic to have his permission in the future she wished to forge with Daemon. A part of her still wondered if it were actually true. She would wait and see like a good daughter without pushing to find out.

“Good, good,” Viserys replied, waving his hand in a dismissive manner that was all too obviously feigned. While he was clearly not having a good morning and his stomach was likely tied in knots, a hint of warmth crept into his features as he laid eyes on them both.

“I am pleased to make an announcement to my beloved family,” her father seemed to break through the fog in his mind and take on the characteristics of a wise and proud King. “My brother, Prince Daemon, has asked for my Ryna’s hand in marriage. I have agreed upon a courtship,” he stated clearly, looking directly at Ryna now. “Dear daughter, should you accept, we shall see if Daemon’s devotion to you is true.”

A murmur broke out amongst those in attendance, clearly having not expected such an announcement at the morning meal. Aegon seemed almost indignant as he shared a glance with his mother, who in turn looked as though she’d been stabbed in the back by an unseen blade. Her mouth was moving as though to speak, but no words ever came out.

Best of all, was Rhaenyra’s transition from curious to annoyed and it took all that Ryna could muster not to wallow in an expression of smug satisfaction. For her eldest sister had always been the favored child, getting away with whatever she desired and also taking whomever she coveted to warm her bed at night.

Daemon placed a hand on Ryna’s forearm, smiling approvingly as he gave her a gentle squeeze. She looked up at him with a cheerful grin, her hand finding his and returning the gesture. Then she looked to her father, the King, holding her shoulders upright and swelling with poise and refinement.

“I should very much like to accept the prince’s proposal for courtship, Father,” she replied with all of the courtly grace one might expect of a princess.

“You mean your uncle’s proposal,” Aegon mocked with a dismissive tone, no doubt trying to rile her up.

“It is no better than marrying my brother,” she shot him a sharp glance across the table. Ryna had already heard tale of Alicent’s designs to wed them. It had bled through by way of the servants, especially given her coarse sibling’s inability to keep quiet about any private matter. Aegon rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to his mother, who looked none too delighted by the display. With a thin lipped curl of her lips, the King’s wife finally spoke, opting to take the course of civility.

“Well, I suppose we should all offer our congratulations then…” she said, her voice neutral and formal. “Thank you, Good-mother,” Ryna replied with a veiled smile that was much more believable.

The Queen gave a stiff nod in response, her eyes flickering over to Daemon with a hint of displeasure, before she returned her attention to her meal. Rhaenyra on the other hand, was still staring at the pair of them. Her eyes were narrowed slightly as they flicked back and forth as if trying to figured out some complex puzzle box.

Daemon had not let her hand go as the entire scene unfolded, chuckling softly as he made a show of rubbing circles on her fair skin with his thumb in a manner that seemed almost too affectionate. She could tell he was having a little bit of fun and she couldn’t exactly blame him. His gaze drifted to the King and he grinned contentedly. “Thank you, brother,” Daemon said with a nod in acknowledgment of the newly formed courtship. “I promise to honor your daughter as well as treat her with all the care and respect she deserves.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Brother,” her father replied with a well meaning smirk.

“As will the whores on the Street of Silk!” Aegon chimed in once more, his eyes glancing between the two with barely contained anticipation for the reception of his mocking words.

“Enough, Aegon,” the King snapped, his own eyes darkening at his son. “Can you not even be happy for your sister on this day?”

The young man sat back in his chair with a huff, crossing his arms like a petulant child, but did not speak up again.

The mood of the room shifted with that, heavy with suspicion and resignation. For it was clear to all present that the courtship would move forward and that there was naught to be done about it, at least not yet. Ryna had no doubt that they would all be scheming soon enough and watching her and Daemon likes hawks. Still, it vexed her that even her family’s pretense of congratulation was not sincere at all, aside from her father at least. “Why does everyone seem so somber? It is a favorable match, is it not?” There was a slight twinge of irritation in Ryna’s voice. She was a Targaryen princess and she deserved more respect than this, but as usual, she was treated as insignificant even when marrying the rightful heir to the throne. Alicent’s expression was neutral, a polite mask now hiding her disagreement. “Of course it is…” she replied. “You are both of Valyrian blood. It is a powerful union.” Her tone was carefully controlled, but Ryna could still sense a hint of bitter resentment. While Rhaenyra still kept her silence, her father was the only one besides the young children who seemed to be unbothered. His expression was thoughtful as he took another sip of his cup. He looked at the newly matched couple, his eyes lingering on where Daemon held her hand. “I must admit,” he said finally, his voice quiet but commanding attention regardless. “I had my reservations about this match at first… But I can see that you are both are committed to each other. As long as you both are sure that this is what you want. Then I will not stand in your way. The two of you will have my blessing given you conduct yourselves with decorum.” “Of course we are sure,” Daemon answered for the both of them. He glanced at her with a reassuring little smile before turning his attention back to the king.

Father’s next words were spoken in a low tone, compelling the silence of the room. “A union as powerful as this would be well served with heirs as soon as possible. Once you wed, of course.”

“You need not worry about that, dear brother,” Daemon chuckled, trying to hide his devious nature as he looked back to Ryna once more. “When the time comes, I intend to take full advantage of every available opportunity.”

A disgusted scoff came from the far end of the table and Ryna’s gaze snapped to the left. She had thought it to be Aegon voicing his discontent, but was not entirely surprised to see a dark expression upon Rhaenyra’s face, her eyes full of malice as she stared quite brazenly at their uncle.

Daemon turned his attention to her elder sister, a small smirk tugging up at the corner of his mouth. He was clearly enjoying this, perhaps a little too much. But, Ryna could feel nothing but a building fury that Rhaenyra could be so petty as to hold onto what amounted to a crush. An infatuation that had ended five years ago when Daemon had been sent away. She found it more difficult to contain her mounting anger as the seconds passed.

“And what of you, Sister?” she asked pointedly, drawing Rhaenyra’s attention away from her intended. “Have you nothing to say? No congratulatory words to encourage this union?”

A flicker of annoyance passed over Rhaenyra’s face as she was addressed. She paused for a moment, as though carefully considering her words before speaking.

“What would you like me to say, Sister?” she replied, her tone attempting to be measured and controlled, but failing miserably. “That I am happy for you? That I am not jealous of your… good fortune?”

The nerve of her to openly admit that she was jealous almost elicited a scowl from Ryna. Instead, she snapped back keeping her voice pleasantly civil and obtuse.

“You are married to Ser Laenor and have three beautiful children sired by him. What more good fortune do you need?” The words were meant to cut, while putting on an air of indifference. Save for her father, who was willfully ignorant of the fact, it was quite obvious to most that Rhaenyra’s children were bastards.

Rhaenyra’s eyes narrowed at her comment, a flicker of outrage passing across her features. It was obvious she grasped the intention of Ryna’s subtle insult. “Yes, I am married to a great man and he has gifted me three wonderful sons,” she replied through gritted teeth. “But that does not negate my own desires and ambitions.”

“And what of your desires, Sister? How should they interfere with my wedding Daemon?” she looked at her uncle for a moment, curious to see if he shared any signs of Rhaenyra’s lingering affections. Daemon wore a bemused expression, clearly enjoying the family drama. “Yes, let us hear what desires you hold, Rhaenyra,” he prompted with a sly smirk, leaning back into his chair in a languid manner that almost seemed theatrical.

Rhaenyra’s lips pressed together in an indignant sneer as her eyes passed between Daemon and Ryna. She was growing more agitated with the situation, but she kept her voice mostly even as she spoke. “It is my desire for you to find a better match, dear sister,” she said coldly. “A union between the two of you would be ill fated.”

Ryna let out a pointed laugh and replied without hesitation. “Are you questioning the King’s judgment?” she fumed at Rhaenyra before turning her attention to her father. “Is it not preposterous, Father? How much good fortune does your first daughter need, when your second daughter has had none?”

Viserys let out a long suffering sigh, his expression growing weary at the turn the conversation had taken. “My daughters…” he began, shaking his head as he tried to maintain order. “Must we do this now?”

“She could at least pretend to be happy for me,” Ryna insisted, her eyes glaring back to Rhaenyra, her rage barely contained now. “Is that so much to ask for?”

Rhaenyra met her gaze with equal fervor, her eyes narrowing. “Is it so much to ask that you not flaunt your happiness in my face!?” she quipped back, her voice dripping with venom.

“Ready yourself, Sister. For I shall soon be flaunting it for the rest of my days!” The dam had broken and every bit of cordial composure had been washed away with the floodwaters.

Her eldest sister’s face contorted with anger and jealousy. It must have been difficult to acknowledge the gladness of others while she suffered a husband who would not bed her. Ryna could not help but grin with satisfaction, watching her sister squirm at the realization that the invincible Rhaenyra had finally been one-upped. The feeling did not last long as the cornered snake bit back once more.

“You will not be happy forever,” Rhaenyra retorted through clenched teeth. “Nothing lasts forever… Not even your relationship with our dear uncle. One day, he will tire of you and move on to the next shiny new toy.”

Ryna scoffed, unable to believe that her sister would sink so low. Rhaenyra had no idea what she was talking about, of course, and was simply holding onto the childish impressions she’d formed as an infatuated young girl. She was not prepared for what the first princess said next though.

Clearly enjoying her reaction, Rhaenyra met Ryna’s sound of derision with a smug grin. “You think you know him so well, don’t you? You think he truly cares for you?” she sneered, her voice heavy with condescension. “He will tire of your innocent doe eyes and your sweet voice… He will grow bored of the way you cling to him like a lost puppy…”

Her smirk intensified as she continued to hammer her banner into the ground. “He will long for a challenge, for someone who can match his fire and passion. Someone who is not so desperate. Someone who can intrigue him and keep him guessing.” She paused for a moment, her eyes flicking over to Daemon as though appealing directly to him for her own cause.

“He will realize that you are simply too ordinary for him.. Too dull.. And he will move on to someone more interesting, more exciting. Someone who’s blood runs strong of Old Valyria.”

Something snapped within her and it felt as though years of neglect and bitterness came pouring through all at once. A lifetime of being overlooked and treated like an inconsequential child by her kin, had built up into a rage that she now found difficult to control.

She clenched her jaw firmly as she practically growled back. “How dare you…” she muttered through her teeth.

Rhaenyra smiled, content with herself for getting such a reaction out of her younger sister. “It is the truth,” she added simply, as though explaining something very mundane. “And deep down, I think you know it.” The heir to the throne shifted her gaze onto Daemon again, her eyes lingering on him for a moment as she tried to entreat him. “Don’t you, Uncle?”

Daemon feigned indifference as he glanced over at Rhaenyra before returning his eyes to Ryna, his smirk never wavering.

“I am curious, Rhaenyra,” he mused with mocking thoughtfulness. “From what great well of knowledge do you draw your conclusions from?”

“I know you better than most, Uncle,” she responded, a hint of annoyance in her voice. “You are impatient and impulsive. A man who craves adrenaline, and yet you seek to marry my sister, who is as still and calm as a pond?” She huffed derisively. “You will tire of her quickly. Just watch.”

Ryna stood up abruptly, her fists white knuckled and holding against the table. “Still? Calm? Too dull? Do you wish to spit venom, sister? What is more dull than a commoner?” Her eyes were a fiery blaze as she stared down the table at Rhaenyra, her gaze then shifted to Ser Criston Cole who stood guard at the side of the room.

“You keep your mouth shut, you little wench!” Rhaenyra snapped in a furious whisper. “You know nothing!”

It was clear that this argument was no longer about her wedding Daemon or Rhaenyra’s jealousy of it. Ryna was finally unleashing all of her disappointment and anger from years of watching the first-born child be showered with attention and praise while she received naught but crumbs. Rhaenyra, who dared insult her desirability to her future husband in public, while she had been spreading her legs to unworthy men, and insulting their very lineage.

But, the murmurs of those in the room brought her back to reality and one glance at her father made her worry that perhaps she had taken it too far. He never did like it when anyone spoke of his eldest daughter in a negative light, even if it was true.

“That is enough!” Viserys’ voice resounded loudly, causing all at the table to stiffen, besides Daemon who still seemed relaxed as though conflict did not bother him in the slightest. “Both of you will cease your quarreling immediately!” He looked towards Rhaenyra, his eyes narrowed. “You will comport yourself like an heir to the Iron Throne, and not some child in need of a spanking.”

He then fixed his gaze on Ryna, his expression stern. “You too, dear. Just because your sister foolishly goaded you, does not give you leave to do the same.” He sighed before continuing in a more exhausted tone. “Can we not have a single family meal that does not end in bickering?”

The King shifted in his seat, looking between his daughters. “We will not discuss this matter any further. The decision is made. Daemon shall court Ryna. That is the end of it.”

Ryna sat back in her seat and bowed her head in deference towards her father. “I’m most ashamed, Father. My humblest apologies.”

Father’s gaze softened with her contrition, but his voice was still firm. “You would do well to remember whom you are, Ryna.” He said, his voice gravely serious. “You are a princess of House Targaryen, both of you,” he shot Rhaenyra a look as he spoke. “Your actions reflect upon the honor of our family… You must act with decency and dignity at all times.”

His eyes fell upon his second daughter once more, a slight lenience added to his tone. “All of us must strive to be our best, and to be more than our baser emotions. We are a family, and we must not forget that.”

“Yes, Father,” Ryna replied, falling back into what was expected of her. “I shall endeavor even harder to ensure you are not disappointed in me.” Rhaenyra remained silent on the matter, only offering a slight nod in repentance.

Daemon sat silently, his fingers idly drumming against the tabletop as he watched the interaction unfold. His eyes flicked to Rhaenyra a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. It was as though he had an opinion on her behavior, but he decided to keep it to himself.

He leaned forward in his seat, taking Ryna’s hand in his again with a sly grin dancing upon his lips as he chimed in to fill the quiet. “Ah, but what’s family without a bit of drama to keep the blood pumping?” he drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Upon finishing, Daemon lifted her hand up to his mouth and pressed a gentle kiss against the backside of her knuckle.

Ryna’s cheeks burned slightly as he pressed his lips against her skin, causing her heart to stir. His affections somehow diffusing her anger, despite the insults Rhaenyra had hurled at her. In the end, it did not matter what her sister had said, for Ryna was the one who was now in line to wed Daemon. She felt nothing but victorious at her uncle’s show of affection coupled with the adoring way he gazed at her, all while Rhaenyra was forced to watch. She forced herself to remain composed on the surface, not allowing her facade to fall once more.

The queen spoke up then, her smile polite, but her tone somewhat chiding. “It does seem that trouble always follows when you are around, Prince Daemon,” she said with a small laugh, an attempt to keep her jab sounding light hearted.

His eyes slid over to Alicent and he chuckled mirthfully, squeezing Ryna’s hand once more before relinquishing it. “Ah, my dearest good-sister,” he said smugly, his sarcastic tone only growing in its intensity. “You make it sound as though I am a mere trouble-maker, an instigator of discord.” He paused for a moment, a devious gleam in his eyes. “Though I have been the most well behaved Targaryen at the table this morning.”

The irony was not lost on anyone in the room, even if Ryna could not help but crack a smile. She was just thankful that Aegon and his mother had not joined the argument she’d had with Rhaenyra, for it was none of their business. Her father looked mildly annoyed with his younger brother for a moment, but he said nothing on the matter opting instead to change the subject.

“Ryna, my dear,” the King looked her way inquisitively, then glanced to Daemon. “I assume with my brother’s eagerness, that the two of you shall be planning your first courtship date soon?”

She smiled, feeling a little embarrassed at the direct questioning, but responding with her thoughts regardless, “I have not had much time to consider it, Father. What does one do on a such an outing?”

Daemon spoke next, his demeanor cool and confident. “There are many possibilities, sweetling,” he replied with a grin. “Perhaps a romantic dinner, a ride on dragonback, or a walk through the Godswood at sunset. There’s more than one path to success, and none of them is inherently wrong.”

“All options sound delightful, Uncle…” she answered softly. “How am I to choose?”

His grin widened at her response. “That’s the spirit, my dear princess,” he said with a low chuckle. “There’s no need to limit ourselves to just one activity. We shall engage in all of these pursuits, and more.”

The idea of spending time alone with Daemon in all of these various encounters made her heart flutter in her chest. She was both nervous and excited for what might happen, wondering if he would behave himself or let his carnal appetites get the best of him. Still, it was thrilling to have her much older, much more experienced uncle show her all of the things he had to offer. The possibilities where practically endless where he was involved.

“That sounds like a wonderful plan, Uncle,” she said, her voice filled with enthusiasm for the first time since Father had given his permission for their courtship to begin. “I look forward to whatever you have in store for me.”

Viserys watched the interaction between his daughter and Daemon intently, a slight grin on his face. He was clearly pleased with the interest her uncle was showing in the relationship.

“It seems you have developed a sudden fondness for courtship, Brother,” the King laughed softly, his eyes fixed on the prince. “I cannot pretend I am not surprised by this.”

Daemon shrugged off his brother’s comment with a grin. “What can I say? Your daughter is the kind of beauty that can awaken the romantic in any man,” he said, his eyes flickering towards Ryna as he spoke. He turned back to Viserys with a confident look. “Besides, you cannot expect me to pass up the opportunity to have such a lovely girl on my arm.”

Viserys laughed sharply at his words. “I suppose I cannot blame you, brother,” he said, his voice taking on a somewhat paternal tone. “But do refrain from any… untoward behavior.”

As Daemon replied with his usual charms, Ryna basked in his compliment feeling an unusual mixture of pride and embarrassment. She had never in her wildest dreams thought that she would be the one to capture Daemon’s interest. She was used to being the second daughter, second choice, the less interesting of the two by most accounts. Now, she was the one with a handsome man doting over her, and in front of her entire family no less. It was a validation she had seldom felt in her life.

She stole a peek at Rhaenyra who was still visibly upset, her resentment plain for all to see. It only added to Ryna’s satisfaction. Daemon turned back to Ryna, his gaze lingering on her a beat longer than necessary. He leaned over to her closely, tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear, his fingers brushing the sensitive skin of her neck as he did so. He whispered so low that she doubted any but her could hear it, “Ignore her, my dear sweetling. Let her stew in her envy.”

Ryna nodded, feeling a shiver run down her spine as a result of his hot breath against the shell of her ear. Her uncle was right after all, for all Rhaenyra could do now was wallow in her covetous desires. Well, that and try to plot the downfall of their union, but her eldest sister would need some time to consider her options first.

His attention shifted to his brother once more and Daemon’s demeanor became more cordial. “If I may, your Grace. I’d like to take my lady for a walk to discuss the details of our courtship.” His voice was smooth and assuming, not asking for permission, but acting as though it were a foregone conclusion.

The King eyed his brother and then his daughter before finally nodding his approval. “Very well, you have my leave.”

With a polite nod to his brother and good-sister, Daemon stood from the table, pulling Ryna’s chair out and offering his hand to her. She took it and marveled at the way he laced his fingers in hers as she rose up beside him.

“Good day, Viserys,” he said in a well-meaning tone before switching to one of playful mockery. “Thank you for the lovely meal.” The king groaned, shaking his head with exasperation. “I would not have called it lovely, brother, but you are welcome.”

Daemon smirked at the King and then turned to the rest of the table, offering a slight bow of his head. “And Good Day to the rest of you.”

“Yes, Good Day to you all and once again… Thank you very much, Father, for agreeing to this courtship,” she bowed her head low and rose with a smile.

With farewells and thanks accounted for, Daemon offered her his arm which she gladly took.

“Come, sweetling,” he said in a low tone as he pulled Ryna in the direction of the double doors that led out towards the gardens. “We have much to discuss.” Read Chapter 5

[maximumdante]

I'm having an hard time with people saying that, for Sebastian, Ciel is nothing more than mere food and that everything he says or does, is just mere aesthetics.

A little disclaimer: i'm NOT a Sebaciel shipper so what i'm writing about Sebastian and Ciel's bond is nothing about romance but simply about two beings that destiny has basically linked together.

When you write a story and this story has been going on for a while, you cant really expect the characters ain't experiencing a development and growing from a point a, to a point b. So i cant really believe some people will just look at the manga and saying "Well, Sebastian hasn't change". Because the contrast between his interaction with Ciel at the beginning and his interaction with Ciel now (let's say from Book of Circus) is quite noticeable.

Sebastian has been living among humans without interruptions for almost 4 years now. We can't know (yet?) how many contractors he met before but definitely none of them needed him this long like Ciel does. He had to fit into human customs and human emotions.

I dont agree with the fact he does't have, in fact, emotions, on the contrary we can discuss that he has a different range of emotions compared to humans and may lack of some of them but after so much time into this world it was inevtabile at some point he would start (even indirectly sometimes) learning from humans how to show some of them genuinely and not as a simple butler's act.

Which bring us to the relationship with O!Cieal. We know they didn't start in the most friendly way but that in the first 3 years they both managed to find a good balance regarding the master and servant dynamic. They did work on the surface, with Sebastian looking like the perfect, loyal butler following every order.

What do we also know? That Sebastiand wouldn't do nothing further than that. He openly admitted that yes, his contract obliged him to protect Ciel and keep him alive but it was also Ciel's responsibility not to take bold decision in order to hurt himself (i mean Sebastian let his young master to wander around venomous snakes knewing he could be bitten) and he kinda was intrigued by the idea of Ciel having troubles. Part of the game, let's say.

And there we could all think, yep, that's what exactly makes him an evil creature. So when does this change?

I think Agni's words in Book of Circus definitely started the shift in his attitude, pointing how Sebastian should always prioritize his master wellbeing, even if this means going against his orders if really necessary.

But i consider the Campania to be the real turning point in their relationship. Because for the first time both Ciel and Sebastian reached a point where the possibiliy of losing the game and losing each other was concrete, as Undertaker almost killed Sebastian with the minimum effort. It's the part of the story when maybe, for the first time, we see Ciel genuinely worried he could lose his demon. He feared he could lost Sebastian for who he was and not as the tool of his revenge.

The more the manga progressed for that moment, Sebastian has shown to be more emotional, less controlled. We saw him panicking in the Emerald Witch Arc when Ciel suffered from severe PTSD from the venomous gas. We saw him struggle because Ciel refused to have anybody around but Finny, which lead him to threaten to devour his soul as a last chance to bring back his old master and we saw him killing Sieglinde's mother and all the militaries involved not just beceuse he had orders, but because all of them made Ciel suffer. IT WAS PERSONAL.

The last year has been though for both of them. So many things happened. It was inevitable at some point they would develop a kind of attachment bond, even when we talk about a "sick and twisted" relationship like the two of them have.

That he would genuinely start to care, in some way.

Maybe Sebastian doesn't even realise this, maybe he has't fully acknowledged this yet because, as i said, his range of emotions differs from ours and he's still a demon, after all.

But now, coming back to the present chapters, if all the previous missions revolving around the servants implied their backstory, i get the feeling we may finally have a hint from Sebastian present perspective which doesn't revolve around the past only like his cinematic records Undertaker saw did.

That being said, when i say Sebastian cares about Ciel i'm not meaning he will also give up on his soul. Sebastian is tired and he's starving. He would get it regardless (and Ciel would never step back from his pact. He would never leave his servant without a paycheck).

But would he feel a little nostalgic looking back, in the future, at that 14 year old Earl from the Victorian England? Definitely.

[thesassypadawan]

Take Charge (Hayden x FemReader)

Summary: There’s this one thing you’ve been wanting to try for some time now. A thing that really peeks your interest, but makes you so freaking nervous. Because, well, how the hell does a hamster go about wrangling a damn moose?!

Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there sooo much of the smut. A bit of sub Hay, dom reader, oral (fem receiving), and… Hayden’s skilled tongue.

Notes: Happy Hayden's (And Mine) Birthday Event! In honor of the man, the myth, the legend; I will be posting nothing but Anakin, Vader, and Hay stories all April long!

A little something for @espinathena-17!  I really enjoyed writing this, it was truly a pleasure!  Hope you like it! ❤️

- It was something you’ve wanted to try for more than a hot minute now. Something that really intrigued you, but, at the same time, makes you so freaking nervous. Because you’ve never done anything like this before and, in your mind… How the hell does a hamster go about wrangling a damn moose?!

- Eventually you build up enough courage to talk to Hayden about it. And, to your great surprise, he’s totally up for the idea. In fact, he very much encourages you to ‘take charge’ every now and then…

- Wearing that sexy, little, black outfit he absolutely loves; you sit cross-legged on the edge of his desk. Eyes glued to the door, waiting not so patiently for him to…

- “Angel, are you…” Spotting you in all your lacey glory, he freezes instantly. A big grin spreading across his face. “Well, this is a nice surprise.”

- Biting your lip, you wiggle a bit in anticipation. You’re finally doing this…oh, this is going to be so much fun!

- Straightening up more, you snap your fingers. “Sit,” you mutter. A hint of authority in your voice as you point to the chair in front of you.

- His eyebrows raise slightly, that grin growing wider. Clearly getting where this was going, he quickly obeys. Plopping himself down with a… “Yes, little miss.”

- “Good.” Slowly you uncross your legs, letting him catch a glistening glimpse. Before recrossing them and placing a heeled foot on his chest. Pushing lightly, asking not so innocently. “Tell me…do you want me?”

- “I do,” Hay chuckles softly. His eyes blown so wide; you can barely see the blue in them anymore.

- Tilting your head to the side, you let out a devious, little giggle. “Is that so? Then why don’t you beg me for it…let me hear how much you do.”

- Fingers graze your ankle gently, trailing upwards. Lips brush then press against your smooth skin, causing your breath to hitch. Part of you wants to give in, to just let him do his thing. But you already made it this far so…

- “Ah ah, naughty boy,” you scold. Digging you heel in firmly, pushing him back into his seat. “I told you that I want to hear you beg. Now…get to it.”

- You watch him swallow hard, adam’s apple bobbing enticingly. “P-please, please, let me kiss you. L-let me touch you; run my hands all over your beautiful b-body.”

- Satisfied with his words, in more ways than one, you ease up. Allowing him to place featherlight kisses on your calf. Teeth nipping and biting your thigh. Hot breath fanning over your sensitive area, making you shudder and stifle a moan.

- Resting his chin on one plushy pillow, he tentatively squeezes the other. “C-can I taste you?” Hayden stutters, gazing up at you hungerly. “Please, I’ve been craving y-you all day.”

- “Such a good boy,” you coo, fingers running through his hair. “I suppose I could, since you did ask so nicely. But, in return…”

- Forcing him back again, you coyly part your legs. Revealing your bare cunt, a low groan escaping him. “…you have to make me feel real good.”

- Eagerly he leans forward. Arms hooking underneath your legs. Mouth hovering. “I-I promise,” he murmurs, voice rumbling through you.

- Hay’s tongue laps at your wet folds. Wrapping around your clit, sucking harshly. Then nuzzling it teasingly with his nose, while tracing the rim of your aching core. Completely and utterly devouring you like a man starved.

- Your moans fly freely now. Nails scratching at the polished wood, hips shamelessly bucking into his face. Stomach curling pleasantly, pussy fluttering and clenching around him. “Mmmh, that’s it; right there. I-”

- Just as you’re really getting into it, he suddenly pulls away and abruptly stands. Leaving you totally hot and bothered, fighting to not whine or sound all desperate. “You’re not the one calling the shots tonight, I am. And, I didn’t say you could stop.”

- Smirking down at you, he wipes your slick off his face with the back of his hand. The tent he’s sporting on full display. “Sorry to spoil your ‘taking charge’ moment, but I can’t hold back anymore. Need you…bad.”

- As much as you’d like to be upset, it’s kind of hard to be when…you’re staring at something, well, that hard. Plus, you have to admit, you need him bad too. “Fine,” you huff. Scooting to the edge of the desk, spreading your legs wider.

- Frantically, he undoes his pants; cock standing tall and proud. Large hands grabbing and gripping your thighs. Pulling you closer, fat tip pressing at your entrance. He’s just about to take the final plunge when…

- “Hold up there a second, big guy!” You order, words and tone making him stop. “You can only have fun if…you take care of your ‘mess’ afterwards.”

- Hayden growls, grip tightening. You think he’s going to argue or protest, instead… “Yes, little miss; I’ll be sure to lick everything clean.”

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @wifeofasith, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16

[thefiery-phoenix]

Yandare gun park who got obsessed with a foreigner reader working for him as his secretary of something head canons ?

Sure :)

YANDERE GUN PARK WITH FOREIGNER SECRETARY READER

Love was something Gun never had a positive opinion of, he always viewed it as something trivial when he had better things to do in life like extort money from gangs and traumatize people. The only things he desired was power and money, he honestly couldn't care less about anything else till he met you. He needed someone to take of some mundane paperwork Charles Choi decided to throw towards him and thought of making Goo do it till he realized he'd have to deal with his incessant whining which was something he wasn't overly fond of till he got the idea of hiring a secretary for himself. He could tell from the get go you weren't from around here since you spoke in a different accent and looked out of place. Gun's eyes were focused on you and he didn't understand why he felt intrigued by you. You worked as a barista and the way your apron hugged your frame and you spoke to people with a smile, you looked...innocent and somewhat gullible in his opinion as his eyes never left your figure

He spotted your manager yelling at you a while later and you had tears streaming down your face while your lousy scumbag of a manager berated and insulted you. Something inside him told him to intervene, he couldn't believe he was actually doing this for someone who he didn't even talk to yet but something in him compelled him to do so. "Hey...shut up. It's annoying to hear you scream like a whining man child. Get lost'' said Gun as he waved his hand dismissively and lit a cigarette and let out a puff as he glared at your manager. "WHO THE HELL ARE YOU TO TELL ME WHAT TO-'' screamed your manager on top of his lungs however he was cut off when Gun grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and his hands gripped his face in a vice like grip as he leaned closer towards him and whispered something in his ear. You didn't know what he whispered into your manager's ear since it wasn't audible to you but whatever it was that the stranger said to your manager, he went pale and shivered slightly as he let out a pathetic whimper and scampered off. You've never seen your manager reduced to such a state as you looked at the stranger in apprehension and slight fear as you fidgeted nervously

"Don't worry, I won't bite...unless you want me to'' said the stranger as he smirked at you and you could feel his intense gaze behind his glasses you had an awkward smile on your face. "Um...thank you I guess...I don't know how to repay you though'' you said as his smirk widened. What an eager polite little thing you were, you looked like a typical goody two shoes and he felt a strange desire growing inside him to corrupt you, to have you for himself and devour you whole, to OWN you. "There is something you can do for me...'' he started as he took another puff of his cigarette and watched your confused and nervous look as you reminded him of a helpless little prey which gave him a power surge and a sense of satisfaction to see you squirm. He made a mental note to make you squirm for him even more later on in the future, your expressions were so amusing for him

"Work for me...as my secretary. You can start tomorrow'' he said in a tone which indicated you didn't really have a choice in the matter as you took the card and looked at it. You looked at the man in front of you and you couldn't help but get an uneasy feeling that he was dangerous. "You shouldn't refuse if you know what's good for you. It would be...unwise'' said the man in front of you as your heart almost stopped beating at his words. You slowly nodded as you sighed and went back to your house. You were too tired to comprehend what to do anymore as you headed for bed after you had a quiet dinner. Meanwhile Gun headed back to his residence and pulled out his phone. "Oi brat, I need a favor from you'' said Gun. "You call me that one more time, I swear I'll kill you'' grumbled Kouji from the other end as Gun chuckled slightly. "I'd like to see you try pipsqueak. I need some information on Y/N, think you're up for the job?" he asked Kouji as he was met with a few moments of silence. "You really think I have nothing better to do in life huh? Fine...but I'm charging you double. You interrupted my game MF'' he grumbled as he cut the call. 15 minutes later Kouji sent a file to Gun as he spent the rest of the night reading everything about you from your likes, dislikes, hobbies and such. The fact that you weren't from Korea made things better, he could make you rely on him more, make you dependent on him and have you for himself easily as he smirked to himself, waiting for the next day when he'd see you again

The next day, sure enough, you showed up to his residence and you had a smart attire and Gun was somewhat surprised you actually held up your end of the promise. You were so easy to take advantage of and he couldn't wait to have you in his clutches. "You actually showed up...congratulations, you got the job'' said Gun as you quirked your brow in slight confusion. "Aren't you going to conduct an interview or something?" you asked him curiously as his mouth curved into an amused grin. He wondered whether or not he should tell you how he already knew everything there was about you including how you lived alone and your current address and such but he didn't want to scare you off just yet so he decided to withhold that information. For now at least as he mentioned some vague answer of not wanting to bother with tedious and nonsensical procedures and preferred a more direct approach towards things

He's amused how skittish and nervous you're around him. Your actions never cease to delight and amuse him and he loves to call you out on your flustered and shy behavior at times and gets a kick of your cheeks going red whenever he makes slightly suggestive comments towards you. Which just proved his theory that even the devil had his day. He always insists that you have lunch with him and don't even think of skipping out on lunch with him, he'll drag you to eat with him anyway telling you that you can always work later. He'll take you out to fancy restaurants at times to a private booth where the two of you would be undisturbed and he'll ask you questions about your life and such. Even if you hide something from him he'll find out eventually through his sources so there's no room for you to keep a secret from him anymore

It kind of goes without saying you know, when you're working for Gun, you'll meet Goo as well and Goo knows Gun inside and out and he immediately understands his fighting obsessed psychotic friend has taken an obsessive unhealthy liking towards you when he caught him stalking you in the shadows when you went back home. Of course Gun immediately warned Goo to keep his mouth shut as Goo grinned at him in amusement but honored his wish. Goo being the infuriating little brat he is at times loves to tease Gun and getting a rise out of him by hanging out with you, it's amusing to see his eyes get all fired up with possessiveness and jealousy, an emotion he'd never expected him to have before but at the same time, he acts like a wingman for him and encourages his twisted obsessive love for you, snitching on you to Gun anytime you have plans with your pesky little friends in which case Gun would have to personally take care of them for being a distraction for you. Don't feel too upset when they don't lift your calls anymore, you still have him. You wouldn't know about what he actually does, you're in the dark regarding all the money extortion and the crew related things he does, he wants to keep you in that sheltered little bubble and make you rely SOLELY on him alone

Personal space be damned, he's always doing things to make you flustered like kissing the back of your hand or being too close to you. He'll find a way to monopolize your time and attention to be focused on him and only him, nothing else should matter to you. He likes to trace his thumb over your bottom lip and whenever he speaks to you in that husky deep voice of his, his lips would teasingly graze over to your ear and the nape of your neck which would send shivers and tingles down your spine as he has a firm grasp around your waist. It just feeds into his god complex of an ego how much of an effect he has on you. He's looking forward to having you on his lap one of these days, while he runs his hands over your beautiful body meant for him

When you spring the news that you're going back to your country permanently and want to live there, he stops whatever he's doing and simply glares at you. Even though he's wearing his glasses you could feel the heat and intensity of his heated stare which was practically burning a hole through your soul. However, he has a fake smile on his face and invites you to one last dinner before you leave. Little did you know, there was quite an unexpected surprise in store for you. You headed to his residence for dinner that night and he loved how shy and bashful you were being. No way in HELL would he allow you to leave him, you were his since the moment he laid his eyes on you. You couldn't exactly put a finger on it but you felt like the food tasted somewhat strange and by the time you finished your last bite, you started feeling drowsy and sleepy. "I'm...I'm feeling tired. I think...I think I better go home'' you mumbled sleepily and yawned. A few seconds later your vision started becoming blurry and you blacked out on his couch as he gently ran his fingers through your hair and caressed your cheek. How dare you try to leave him? He'll have to discipline and punish you later for trying to leave him. It doesn't matter if you'd hate him after you wake up, you'll love him eventually, he'll MAKE you love him even if he needs to use force...

[shadesofecclescakes]

Are you a big fanfic reader? What have you read lately and what's been your favourite fic so far?

Oh mannnnnnnnn. Why don't you ask me to pick a favourite child while you're at it???

Just kidding. I don't have kids. But I assume having to pick a favourite would be hard if I did.

So, am I a big fanfic reader? YES. And what haven't I read lately? We are lucky enough to have so many talented writers in this fandom that it's possible to subscribe to numerous multi-chapter fics to the point where you're just constantly getting update emails. Which I do. It's great. It gives me something to do at work aside from, y'know, work.

*Me at work being smug about being paid to read porn* (Also I just wanted to look at this gif)

So what is currently on my endless update list? Coming up after the cut!

I am an absolute whore for human AU, so if you like that then you will probably like:

The Cure for a Broken Heart by @rofell

a medical student AU based in the Canadian medical system (I'm a Canadian so I was pretty excited about that). It manages to tackle the continued systemic discrimination of Indigenous people in our medical system (and in general), homophobia and the ensuing trauma from those things all while also being informative, funny, sweet, romantic and hot af. Like. It's so good.

Free by @maaikeatthefullmoon

This is another one with with a heavy topic that also does a great job of making sure to break it up with some excellent fluff, hurt/comfort and humorous moments. And it's handled with the sensitivity and thoughtfulness necessary to write something that takes place in a mental health ward and deals with some intense situations. Definitely make sure to read those author notes before diving in. They lay it out very thoroughly.

The Sincere Way by @tsyvia48

A martial arts AU. Crowley is a karate sensei and Aziraphale is his student. Slow burn that keeps you on the edge. The screams I have scrumt at my screen over this one. Plus you learn a lot about karate (but it never gets boring or over-explainey. Excellently balanced) which is pretty cool. Mostly light (there is some angst. This is the Good Omens fandom. I think we are all sad, wet chihuahuas at heart). Funny and sweet.

Terminus by @emotional-support-demon-crowley

Plus One by @caedmonfaith

Astronaut AU. Aziraphale is an astronaut who meets his mission controller, Crowley, over the comms system when he finds himself in need of assistance.

Super cool concept and really well-done in my opinion. Like, I don't do any space or physics-related work (ok I straight-up failed math 9) but I find it entirely believable. And it's well-written which is the entire point. Cute, funny slow burn with an intriguing mystery happening in the background.

Aziraphale has family money but a shitty family (except for Muriel! Never Muriel!) and his shitty brother Gabriel is getting married to shitty Michael, an Earl's daughter.

Aziraphale's family disproves of his entire life pretty much and he has been lying to them about having a boyfriend. Now they are expecting him to bring said boyfriend to the wedding. His famous footballer friend sets him up with their mechanic, Crowley.

It starts as a slow-burn but becomes a hilarious, smutty romp that just gets more and more insane. The chapter titles alone have made me cackle out loud.

Some older human AUs I'm a huge fan of include Old Vines by @sevdrag. Crowley owns a vineyard and Aziraphale is a wine critic. It is so amazingly written. It makes me think of the author Joanna Harris (Chocolat, The Five Quarters of the Orange) because it's SO beautifully, vividly descriptive that I end up craaaaaving wine. So have a bottle on hand if you're giving this a read.

Also the love story in this. My god. I devoured it. The story and the (many bottles of) wine.

There is also Loosely Ballroom by marginalia_device and mortifyingideal. It's a Strictly Come Dancing (Dancing with the Stars in North America) AU and it is so. Fucking. Good.

But it comes with a disclaimer. It's unfinished and looks likely to stay that way. But honestly? Still worth it. It's nearly finished (I think) so you have most of the story. And it's just SO good. It's been a while since I read it but it was one of the first human AUs I read and what got me hooked on them.

If you're still with me...nice! Just know that was me holding back and that isn't my entire list by a long shot. If you want more recs, feel free to message me and also share your own!

I just finished Slow Show the actor AU by @mia-ugly and yes please.

Some serious angst, pining and hot hot smut.

There is another long-form multi-chapter actor au I loooved but I can't remember the name for the life of me. Just that the show they were on was basically good omens and that they swapped roles with great success (inspired by the whole Michael thinking Neil wanted him to play Crowley when he wanted Aziraphale thing).

Thanks for the ask! That was really fun!

[stargirlfics]

”making a movie” 😏 with Alfred

Whew the thoughts this immediately gave me! The thought of creating a private little video for the two of you, between the two of you, yeah that’s hot!

Here’s a quick moodboard I made to set the mood 🎥

Just thinking about warming him up to the idea, I feel like it’s probably not something Alfred has done before in his sex life but the idea is intriguing—he’s willing to try anything if you’re down and wanting so he figures why not?!

Maybe he already has a lewd photo of you tucked in his wallet or in a private file folder on his phone from the occasional spontaneous moment but something about this; taking the time to set up the camera, discussing it together, the obvious anticipation starting to build as you do, it really would be like foreplay.

You decide to keep it pretty candid and natural, not wanting to perform for the camera necessarily but rather it be something authentic and intimate for you both so you’re eagerly waiting on the bed while Alfred props up your phone or one of his camera’s and though you almost forget it’s recording the second he cups your chin to kiss you, there is something erotic about knowing it’s there.

Knowing you’re being watched in a way, that you’ll play the video back later watching it with him just to see all the passion in the way you fuck each other, how you look at each other, the dew that will stick to your skin the more you intertwine your bodies. It’s everything!

Oh…don’t think about Alfred positioning you so the camera will have all the perfect angles and goddd the way his hands would be all over you like he’s showing off his favorite parts of your body, taking his sweet time to loosen you up and turn you on even more.

“There you are.” he would coo next to your ear, “I love how much you want this. Fuck, I could watch those legs fall open for me all day.”

You’re already reaching for him, body buzzing and eager for more when it does something else to you entirely to watch him touch you where you need him most, the slick sounds of two fingers sliding over your pussy just for his head to dip and his mouth takes their place.

He’s a lot more feral in how he devours you, something about making a movie in the back of his mind as he draws out every expert flick of his tongue, unapologetic about the mess, just content to hear you enjoying yourself.

“Oh, I know I know darling. Let me have it and I’ll fill up your pretty cunt just like you’ve been asking.” The growl is so deep it gives you chills and your eyes flick towards the camera for a moment before rolling shut, coming around thick fingers pressed so deliciously against that spot that has you seeing stars.

Even when you’re trying to catch your breath, limp against the sheets Alfred doesn’t relent, his mouth trailing over your skin, across the curve or your hip and down your tummy, up to your shoulder and eventually settling on your lips in a shattering kiss.

You’re hungry for it, for him, swallowing his groans, his oxygen and your own whimpers while your bodies find each other easily. Legs parting to wrap around his waist so you can feel him too and it has you crying out when he rocks into you, any sense of self restraint fully done away with now.

Please wtf I need him so bad!!!

And when he’s finally sinking that thick cock of his inside you I just know he would talk you through the entire moment, gently turning your head to face the camera and telling you to keep your eyes on him. Our beloved knows exactly what kind of visual and auditory porn you’d want, period!

“Such a good girl, taking it like this. You’re doing so well, sweetheart.” While he’s stretching you out, hips pressing you into the bed can you imagine…bye I am passing away!

Then you’re losing your mind a bit later when you ride him and he’s so generous with his praise and encouragement that you’re bouncing on his cock just a little harder, just a bit faster and you can tell he likes that you’re just as feral and wanton for it as he is, it’s all about matching each others freak, babyyy!

You almost forget you were filming any of this when you’re finally spent and sleepy, whining when he moves from your embrace to turn off the video but he’s slipping back into bed as quickly as he’d left, bringing the camera with him so you could look at what you’d just made.

Barely five minutes in and you’re squirming against him, a fading ache of what just transpired still pulsing in your core and once again your heartbeat quickens when you glance at Alfred and see him already looking at you with that expression in his eyes again.

Till the paint peels off the walls I say

—

Ugh I wanna be his little movie star! 🌟 Thank you for the thirsty thought, anon. Hope you enjoyed!

[sweetiecelin]

The Blind Leading the Blind

Chapter 2

You and Sam the biggest idiots. Sometimes, when you want to see something you have to take a step back. It's just you and Sam are just into being really good friends. Everyone else can see beside you dumbasses.

Chapter Summary/Warnings: Mentions of death/killing, Sam and you just getting on each others nerves, Hurt(no comfort), jealousy

~~

You woke up with a sharp pain shooting through your head. The headache reminded you of the worst hangovers you had when you were a teenager, going to parties every other night. Using both your hands, you started pressing on your temple- as if that was going to work. You barely remember getting to your bed, the flannel you were wearing was haphazardly discarded on the floor. 

When you looked at your nightstand, there was a glass of water and a bottle of generic aspirin with a little note, “Thought you might need these after last night, Sam”. God sometimes, he was truly the best. 

After you popped a couple of the pills, you found the willpower to get out of bed. Slowly making it out of your room, the bunker’s lights were testing your strength to even get out of the hallways. You managed to stumble your way to the kitchen, just to have the nauseating smell of Dean’s “hangover cure” fill your nose. Dean stood in front of the stove, mumbling one of the classic rock songs that was stuck in his head. 

Covering your mouth you made your way to Sam sitting at the table, drinking one of his nasty ass protein shakes he made. You stared at the mixture with pure disdain.

“I don’t know how in the hell you drink those,” You muttered, while shielding your eyes the best you can from the overhead lights beaming at you.

Sam looked at your expression and then at the drink, “It’s good for you, you should try it sometimes. Y’know instead of clogging your arteries with Dean.”

Snorting, you just shook your head, “At least it doesn't taste like ass.”

Dean agreed, still attending to the food, “She’s gotta point, Sam. At least this tastes amazing if I do say so myself.” 

Trying to ignore the aching feeling in your stomach, you start preparing to eat the greasy food in front of you s Dean plopped at the table. There were two different eggs, bacon, toast and sausage. You managed to put some food on your plate as Dean started devouring what he already grabbed. 

“So, while you two took your sweet time getting up, I found us a case.”

Your mood suddenly shifted from miserable to intrigued, “Really? What is it?”

Sam continued as Dean kept shoveling food into his mouth, “Well, if you’d let me continue, it’s a group of kids that went missing in a small town, Dewhurst. All lived in the same town, all went missing along the same road.”

You turned to him, “So maybe a lady in white?”

“No, unfortunately a completely different MO. So it doesn’t match the profile-” Sam had started.

Dean cut in, raising his hand motioning to stop, “Can we eat first and discuss details later?”

Both you and Sam had shared a look. The two of you know that the older Winchester would like to enjoy the few moments of peace that came with his meals now. 

You looked at the plate in front of you, and the empty cup Sam’s shake was in, “Sam, can you just help me finish this, if I eat all of it I won't be able to keep it down.”

Looking at you with amusement, he reluctantly agreed. You managed to get most of the egg on your plate, some pieces of bacon down, but just stared at the rest repulsively. Noticing this, Sam really tried to help clear your plate

After eating, you all went to the library, taking seats at one of the tables there. Sam pulled up his laptop, trying to pull up all the information he had already collected. You always appreciated his organization when it came to cases, it made it easier when you just wanted to jump in and help. 

“So, like I was saying- all teenagers, all the same strip of road, missing with no trace of them going anywhere. They all went to different schools, different grades and different class schedules.” Sam picked up from the place he left off in the kitchen.

You ticked your head to the side, “How about extracurriculars? Maybe there’s a connection that way? Or do the families know each other?”

“Yeah, no connections through programs- Wait, it looks like all the families were connected through city events,” Sam followed up, barely letting his eyes leave the laptop as he attempted to dig deeper.

You glanced at the brothers before sighing, “I guess it’s time to move our asses and burn that ghost.”

Dean agreed, so all of you went to pack your ‘go bags’. Less than thirty minutes later, you were all piled in the car.

~~

Five hours later, you arrived in Dewhurst. Dean attempted to get two rooms, but there was only one left. You all agreed that the bed situation would be figured out later. Once settled, it was decided that it was time to go work with local law enforcement. While Sam and Dean were dressed in their professional suits, you were wearing a nice blouse and blazer, accompanied by a tight pencil skirt. The skirt was solely to manipulate the male sheriff to be more willing to share details about the case.

It worked. And on his deputies too.

While you and Sam gather more info; The families were descended from the original founding families, minus one- The Winslows. The other families became integral to the development of the town. Collins for the mine, Thompsons for the port, and Jamisons for mainly being the family more often than not in power.

You chatted up the deputies to see if there was more to the case. Deputy Crawford was the first one to crack, “It was so gruesome that some of the new officers may have gagged a little. The body had been torn apart, almost in half. I just hope the kid wasn’t alive when he was split in two.”

“Wow, that sounds terrible,” you feigned naive shock, “Was there anything off about the scene too you? Besides the body,” you probed just a little further, running your hand down his arm.

His eye returned to yours, with a glint of something else, “Aren’t you just a curious cat? I’m sure there’s more details in the report.”

“Well, I’m just naturally inquisitive about weird things; It’s why I joined the FBI y’know,” 

“Someone might get the wrong idea when you mention ‘weird things’, more adventurous things.” He grinned at you.

When Sam was finished discussing the investigations of the deaths, he noticed your little exchange. How the deputy was sneaking glances of your body up and down, how you were a bit too flirtatious with him. He headed your way and managed a suave way to pull you away from the conversation, bringing you to a less populated part of the station. 

Calling your name he started in on you, “What the hell are you doing? We’re supposed to be professionals, not hooking up with one of the cops we’re supposed to be working with,” Sam hissed at you, boring into your eyes.

You yanked your arm away from his grasp, “I don’t know what the hell has gotten into you, but I am a perfectly grown woman and a skilled hunter. I know what the fuck I’m doing.”

“Yeah? That’s why you’re flirting with him?” 

“Listen Sam, stop being a dick head. I’m getting more information on the case.”

“How, by throwing yourself at him?” He started glaring into you, which only fueled your irritation. You huffed and walked away from him to Dean who was just looking at the tiff you and Sam just had.

He opens his mouth to say something but the look you shoot his way stopped him. Sam shortly followed you with clenched fists, pushing past Dean outside to the car. Dean thought about the scene he witnessed before Sam dragged you away, and just chuckled.

Shortly later, all of you arrived at the motel. It was time to decide who had the beds or the one chair in the corner of the room. 

You looked at the tall brothers and giggled, “Guess I’m taking the cuck chair.”

Immediately they both turned and looked at you, but it was Dean that spoke first, “The what chair?”

“The cuck chair,” You said like it was general knowledge, “You know the chair the husband sits in when his wife-”

Sam put his hand up to signal you to stop, “Jesus, please don’t continue. You’re not taking the chair, one of us can go sleep in the impala.”

Dean sighed and agreed, “We all need to be well rested if we’re going to investigate the scenes tomorrow.”

“Okay, then I’ll be the one to sleep in the impala,” you replied, “I’m sure I fit better, than either one of you crammed into the backseat.”

Shaking his head, Sam rebuked you, “No, just share with one of us.”

You looked at him with shock, “Yeah, like Dean will share and I’ll sleep next to you after the shit you pulled at the station? Hard pass.”

Dean just rolled his eyes, walking away to one of the laptops that was on the motel table. He was tired and done with listening to the two of you bickering. He thought the two of you should just confess your feeling to each other, but you two were just too fucking blind to see the signs. How you stared at Sam, how you always listened so deeply when he explained something about the current book he was reading or about new lore he came across. Or how Sam would always push you to share something with him and being disappointed when you clammed up, how Sam would simply listen to you rant about the stupid crap some hunter pulled in the pass. One of the last straws was this exact situation, which happened a little too often when you were on cases or at the bar, when either of you would get jealous when Sam or you flirted with other people openly in front of each other.

Still pissed, you sat down and grabbed the folder that the sheriff gave the boys to look at crime scene photos. Something was off, you just couldn’t pinpoint it. You scanned the images trying to find similarities between the pictures, it was like trying to play a game of iSpy but everything just blurred together. 

Finally, you saw it. It was words that were carved into the far corner of the room. It was something ‘hid it’. You thought about what one of the detectives said, there was one of the four families that founded the town that was killed.

“Hey guys, what did we find out about the Winslows?” 

“Winslows,” Sam glanced up at you before typing away at the keyboard in front of him, “1836, all family members had their throats slit in their beds, one of the daughters had been found with a knife in her hands with her throat slit too. Law enforcement at the time had assumed she did it.”

Dean added on to your initial questions, “They assumed?”

“Yeah, Mortimer Jameison said ‘Melinda was deranged, had conversations with herself’ and John Thompson shared that she had tried seducing several of the men in town to quote ‘lead them down the path of the Devil’. And last but not least, Nicholas Collins claimed that she tried to drag his sons down to hell with her.” 

Sam looked up, eyes bouncing from Dean to you, “How much do you want to bet that Melinda’s a vengeful spirit out for those who wronged her?”

You shook your head, “Then why hasn’t she been doing this the entire time? Why start now?”

“Maybe she was tired of the lies being spread about her? Or she was framed?”

Sam typed away again, “She could’ve been brought back since there was a new addition added to the local history museum. It was about the four families, but her stuff wasn’t included, which I get since it was a popular opinion that she's the one who killed them.”

You showed them the photos, “Do you guys see here, that there’s those carvings that say ‘hid it’, there’s one at every scene.”

“So guess, we’re gonna burn Melinda’s bones tonight, rest and then drive back? Case closed.” Dean remarked with a smirk.

But you and Sam both disagreed, he’s the one that spoke up, “I don’t know you guys, it sounds too easy. Something’s up.”

“As much as I don’t want to agree right now, I think Sam’s right. What if it’s something else, maybe an object she’s attached to, or it’s another spirit completely.”

Dean sighed, “You guys just love to make cases complicated, don’t you?”

“I don’t know, it feels off,”You mentioned shrugging as you got off of the bed. “Maybe we should poke around the museum or ask people in town? Maybe some of the families?”

“Yeah, some of the people that had some of their kids killed, asking about the history about the importance of their families?” Sam retorted, leaning back in his chair.

“No, jackass, ask about their kids. You know better than that, Samuel.” You side-eyed him from your stance around the table. You were getting tired of his attitude, and he was getting tired of yours. 

Dean was just tired of the both of you.

~~