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mechaknight-98 · 17 hours

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Road Trip Part II (NSFW) FT Sana, Tzuyu and Dahyun

Operator’s notes: I got asked to write Sana so I did you all can blame @smutoperator for her personality though

It's late afternoon as we check into the new hotel. You were resting in Nayeon’s lap when I walked up to you. Tzuyu leaned into me as we sat next to you two.

“How's the search going for a new camera guy?”

You groan. “Yes thankfully he should be meeting us here soon.” I nod and say

“Great here’s hoping he's “normal””

“Me Too,” Nayeon says.

The grand lobby of the hotel buzzes with life as guests shuffle in and out, dragging suitcases, talking in hushed tones, and checking in at the sleek marble reception desk. Twice is no different, blending into the backdrop of tourists, businesspeople, and vacationers. The group chats amongst themselves, some yawning after a long flight, while others, like Sana, seem energetic and eager for new experiences.

As they wait for their room keys, Sana restless as ever, absentmindedly wanders away from the group. She’s preoccupied, glancing at her phone when suddenly—

Bump.

She walks straight into the back of a man, causing her phone to slip from her hands. A small gasp escapes her lips as it clatters onto the floor. Before she can react, the man turns around swiftly and kneels, picking up her phone with surprising grace for someone so imposing. She notices his camera pack before she saw the rest of him

"Sorry about that," his deep voice echoes.

Sana blinks, momentarily speechless. The man standing before her is tall—towering, really—broad-shouldered, and muscular, like a wall of strength. His skin glows with a healthy brown, and his eyes, though sharp, soften when they meet hers. A mischievous grin spreads across his lips as he hands her the phone.

“No, it’s my fault,” Sana giggles, a slight blush creeping up her cheeks. She looks up at him, and for a brief moment, it’s like no one else exists in the bustling hotel. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Well, I’m not complaining about the distraction,” he says with a charming smirk, his voice low and smooth. “I'm Broly, by the way.”

“Sana.” She bites her lip, trying not to look too flustered. She doesn't even process his name. There’s something magnetic about him, the kind of confidence that turns heads.

They stand there for a beat longer than necessary, the chemistry between them palpable.

“So, are you staying here too?” Sana asks, tilting her head playfully.

“I am now, Got a gig and was told to meet the client,” Broly teases, glancing back toward the reception. “What about you?”

"Just for a few days, on tour with my group." She gestures toward the others, where Tzuyu and Nayeon are busy chatting with you and I, oblivious to the scene unfolding nearby.

Broly's eyes follow her gaze and he raises an eyebrow, clearly recognizing Twice. "Ah, so you're famous."

Sana laughs, waving it off. "Something like that."

Before either of them can continue, Jihyo calls out, “Sana! We’ve got our rooms!”

She turns back to Broly, reluctant to break the moment. “Looks like I have to go. Duty calls.”

Broly gives her a slow nod, his smirk never fading. “I hope we bump into each other again.”

Sana grins, her playful side shining through. “Careful what you wish for.”

As she walks back to join her members, she sneaks a glance over her shoulder, and sure enough, Broly is still watching her, his eyes lingering with amusement. She can’t help but smile to herself as she catches up with the group, who immediately start teasing her.

“Who’s that?” Momo asked intrigued.

Sana gave a flirty smile as blush crept onto her cheeks, “oh just some cutie I bumped into,”

Chaeyoung hopped from behind Momo, “he's tall.” she exclaimed. The rest of twice nodded.

“What’s his name?” Jihyo asked curious.

“Broly,” Sana answers we all look at her and I say the words on everyone’s mind except Sana.

“There’s no way that's his name,” I say incredulously.

Sana shrugs and says, “That's what he told me.”

Chewy and I look at you and Nayeon trying to process what Sana is saying until you roll your eyes.

It’s been about 45 minutes since check-in, and we’re scheduled to meet with the rest of the camera crew. The meeting room is modest but well-equipped, the faint aroma of fresh coffee lingering in the air as you walk in, clipboard in hand. A few camera crew members are already seated, including me, adjusting our equipment and chatting in low voices.

You step up to the front of the room, scanning everyone before tapping the clipboard to get their attention.

“Alright, listen up! We’re finalizing our crew for the next couple of days, and I’ve just confirmed our last addition. He should be joining us any second now,” you announce, glancing at the door.

As if on cue, the door swings open. In steps Broly, his tall, muscular frame immediately commanding attention. He walks over casually, hands tucked into his jacket pockets, exuding a cool confidence. My eyes lift from my camera bag, and recognition flickers across my face.

Sana’s mystery man.

“Oh no,” I mutter with a smirk.

You glance between Broly and me, eyebrows raised in surprise. “Wait, don’t tell me—this is the guy from earlier?”

I nod, barely containing a laugh. “Yep, that’s him.”

You turn to Broly, amusement dancing in your eyes. “So, you’re the new camera guy, huh?” You eye him up and down with playful skepticism. “And your name’s… what again?”

Broly doesn’t miss a beat, his signature smirk forming as he confidently replies, “Broly.”

There’s a brief pause, then you chuckle, exchanging a glance with me.

“Broly? Seriously?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. “That’s... not what I was expecting.”

I chime in, leaning back in my chair. “Yeah, same here. When Sana told us, I thought for sure she was joking.”

Broly crosses his arms, grin widening as if he’s heard it all before. “It’s a strong name, what can I say?” His tone is light, unfazed by the teasing.

You shake your head, still smiling. “I guess it’s fitting. You do look like you could bench press this entire room.”

I add with a laugh, “Honestly, though, we thought you’d be an anime character or something with a name like that.”

Broly laughs, shrugging. “Well, that’s a story for another time.”

You wave a hand, trying to regain some professionalism. “Alright, alright, enough with the name-roasting. You’re officially on the team, Broly. Let’s see if you can handle the cameras as well as you handle bumping into our members.”

I laugh, leaning forward. “No promises he won’t ‘accidentally’ bump into Sana again.”

Broly shrugs, that smirk still intact.

You roll your eyes, though a grin remains on your face. “Okay, let’s get down to business. We’ve got sound check and prep work for tomorrow’s concert. I’ll be assigning each of you specific members to cover.”

“Dibs on Tzuyu,” I joke, raising a hand, which earns an eye roll from you.

“You’ll have Dahyun,” you retort with a smirk, ignoring my playful pout. You continue giving out roles to the other camera crew members until you get to Broly.

“And as for you, Mr. Davis, you’ll be covering Sana.”

I burst out laughing, unable to contain myself. The timing is just too perfect. You shoot me a glare that shuts me up—mostly.

“Is that it?” you ask, eyebrow raised, and I nod, a dumb grin still plastered on my face.

You wrap up the meeting by establishing a group chat for all the camera crew and their assigned members. As the room starts to clear out, I gather my things and make my way to the “school meal club” room to meet with Dahyun, already thinking about how to bring up her good angles and preferences for the shoot.

As the meeting wraps up, the rest of the camera crew trickles out, and I head down the hallway to meet Dahyun. I pass a couple of Twice members along the way—Chaeyoung and Momo chatting quietly by the elevator. As I walk, I can’t help but replay Broly’s introduction in my head, a smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth. Sana’s going to have a field day when she finds out he’s part of the crew.

Reaching the “school meal club” room, I knock lightly before poking my head in. Dahyun is already inside, lounging on one of the chairs, looking through her phone. She glances up with a bright smile.

“Hey! Ready to make me look good?” she asks, half-joking.

“Of course,” I reply, stepping into the room. “But you make my job easy, Dahyun. No bad angles.”

She laughs, waving off the compliment. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

I notice Tzuyu pout slightly as she's stares at Dahyun and I. I set down my camera gear on the nearby table. “So, let’s talk angles and shots. Anything specific you want me to focus on?”

Dahyun tilts her head, thinking for a moment. “Honestly, I trust you. But… maybe some close-ups during sound check, especially when I’m at the piano. I want the fans to really feel the energy in those moments.”

“Got it,” I nod, scribbling a note on my phone. “I’ll make sure to catch the big moments. Anything else?”

She stands up, stretching a little. “That should cover it. Oh, and maybe if you can get some cool behind-the-scenes stuff when we’re not performing. The fans love that.”

“I’ll get some candid shots for sure,” I promise.

Just then, there’s a knock at the door. I turn around to see Broly standing in the doorway, hands casually in his pockets. His broad frame takes up most of the door, but there’s that signature smirk on his face again.

“Well, if it isn’t Mr. Bench-Press-the-World,” I quip, giving him a mock salute.

Broly chuckles, stepping inside. “I thought I’d come by and get a feel for how things are running here. You're the only other American and I asked Mark. he might’ve mentioned you were up here.”

Dahyun perks up, glancing between the two of us. “Wait, this is the new guy? You're the guy Sana was already talking about you earlier.”

Broly raises his hands in mock innocence. “Can’t help it. People talk.”

I shake my head with a grin. “Yeah, and you’re already causing quite the stir.”

Dahyun crosses her arms, looking him up and down with an impressed nod. “Well, welcome to the crew, Broly. I hope you’ve got some serious camera skills to back up that name.”

Broly laughs, the sound deep and unbothered. “I think I can manage. Just let me know if I need to ‘accidentally’ bump into anyone for a better shot.”

I roll my eyes, shooting Dahyun a look. “See? This is what we’re dealing with now.”

She giggles, obviously entertained by the banter. “Honestly, I think you’ll fit right in. We’ve got plenty of personalities around here, so don’t worry.”

Broly nods, his playful demeanor never faltering. “Good to know. But speaking of fitting in,” he glances at me, “we’ve got sound check in a bit, right? Might be a good time to test out those camera angles.”

I check my watch and nod. “Yeah, we should head down soon. You can get a feel for the layout, and I’ll start grabbing some of those behind-the-scenes shots.”

Dahyun claps her hands together. “Perfect! Let’s make this tour look good!”

With that, the three of us head toward the venue. As we walk, I glance sideways at Broly. Despite his larger-than-life presence, he’s surprisingly easygoing, the kind of guy who could charm his way through any situation. And as much as I teased him earlier, I can’t deny he seems to fit in with the team already.

When we arrive at the concert hall, the stage is being set up for the sound check. Twice is scattered around, some testing their mics, others chatting with staff. The air buzzes with the pre-concert energy, a mix of anticipation and professionalism. I spot Tzuyu adjusting her earpiece and wave over to her before setting up my camera. She smiles before doing The TT pose and fake crying as she gets ready. I smile and mouth, “it will be fine,” which makes her smiley

I catch Dahyun’s eye and nod toward the piano setup. “Ready when you are,” I call out.

She gives me a thumbs-up, and I get into position, carefully framing the shot. As I start snapping photos, I hear Broly chuckle beside me.

“Not bad, huh?” he says, watching the scene unfold.

I glance at him, raising an eyebrow. “Just wait. This is the easy part. Let’s see how you handle the chaos later.”

Broly just grins, his confidence radiating as he slings his camera strap over his shoulder. “Bring it on,” he says, his tone light but competitive.

I narrow my eyes, smirking. “Alright, tough guy. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Without missing a beat, I position myself to capture Dahyun, who’s testing her mic and casually chatting with some of the staff. She looks up just as I snap a shot, and I catch the perfect candid smile. Broly, not to be outdone, turns his attention to Sana, who’s adjusting her earpiece while chatting with Momo. The race begins—both of us moving fluidly around the stage, clicking away with our cameras as Twice moves through their pre-show routine.

It starts subtle—just a friendly rivalry between two photographers, trying to outdo one another. But it doesn’t take long before Sana and Dahyun catch on.

Dahyun, ever observant, notices me darting around, trying to get the best shots. A mischievous smile spreads across her face. She sidles up to me, her gaze twinkling with playfulness. “You working hard or hardly working?” she teases, her voice soft and lilting.

I laugh, glancing down at my camera. “I’m working, but you’re making it hard to focus.”

She giggles, leaning in closer as if sharing a secret. “Well, let’s make it interesting, then.”

Before I can reply, Dahyun blows me a kiss, her hand lifting to her lips before sending the playful gesture in my direction. My heart stumbles in my chest, and for a moment, I forget to take the next shot. Was I falling for her? That innocent charm of hers was disarming, and the way she looked at me made my pulse race. I try to refocus, but she’s already got me flustered, and she knows it.

Meanwhile, across the stage, Sana is upping the ante with Broly. She’s never been one to shy away from playful flirtation, and with Broly, she’s in her element. Her eyes lock onto him, sultry and intense, and she flashes him a smirk as she adjusts her hair. With the subtlety of a seasoned flirt, she begins to move just a little slower, letting her hips sway in a way that makes Broly visibly stiffen, his camera shaking ever so slightly.

“Enjoying the view?” Sana teases as she passes him, her voice low, a hint of laughter behind it.

Broly coughs, caught off guard for a moment, but recovers quickly, shooting her a grin. “Just trying to capture perfection,” he replies, the smoothness of his words hiding his flustered state. But Sana can see right through him.

Dahyun, not one to let Sana out-flirt her, ups her own game. During a break in the sound check, she takes a seat on a speaker, swinging her legs playfully and sending me a sweet, almost shy smile that makes my knees go weak. “Am I doing okay?” she asks in the softest voice, tilting her head just slightly.

“You’re perfect,” I mutter, barely realizing I said it out loud until Dahyun’s smile turns into a victorious grin.

Just as the playful flirting intensifies, Sana goes all-in. She drifts behind Broly during a quiet moment, her eyes lingering on him with a smoldering intensity. Broly tries to stay focused, but Sana isn’t making it easy. She leans in just enough so her perfume lingers in the air between them, her lips curving into a sensual smile as she glances over her shoulder at him.

“How’s the shot from back here?” she asks, her voice sultry, as she takes a slow step away, her hand brushing against his arm.

Broly’s eyes widen for a second, and he quickly lifts his camera, trying to hide the fact that he’s completely flustered. “It’s, uh, great,” he stammers, though the way his camera fumbles slightly betrays his nerves.

The competition between Dahyun and Sana escalates—both playing to their strengths. Dahyun’s innocent, cute approach makes my heart race as she flirts with subtle winks and shy glances, while Sana goes full-on seductress, leaning into her confidence and charm to completely disarm Broly.

The tension builds, and it doesn’t take long for the other Twice members to notice. Momo nudges Jihyo, pointing subtly toward Sana and Dahyun, who are now so wrapped up in their playful competition that it’s almost distracting the whole crew. Jihyo, ever the leader, raises an eyebrow, clearly amused but knowing she needs to step in.

Jihyo walks over, her hands on her hips, shaking her head with a half-smile. “Alright, you two. I know you’re trying to give these poor guys heart attacks, but we’ve got work to do.”

Dahyun, in mid-flirt, blushes slightly, biting her lip to hold back a laugh. Sana, on the other hand, just grins mischievously, shrugging as if she’s innocent in all of this. “What? We’re just having fun,” Sana says, her voice playful.

Broly and I exchange a glance, both of us trying to maintain our composure, but it’s clear we’ve been thoroughly rattled.

“Fun is great, but I don’t need my camera crew passing out before the concert,” Jihyo says with mock sternness. “Save some of that for later, maybe?”

I cough, finally regaining my voice. “Yeah, I think we’ve had enough flirting for one sound check.”

Dahyun giggles, standing up from her seat and giving me one last playful wink. “Alright, alright. I’ll be good.”

Sana, ever the provocateur, shoots Broly one final look. “For now,” she teases, before sauntering off to join the other members.

As they both walk away, Broly lets out a low breath, shaking his head with a grin. “Man, you weren’t kidding. This job comes with a whole lot more than just taking pictures.”

I laugh, still trying to shake off the effect of Dahyun’s flirting. “Yeah, welcome to the team. Good luck surviving it.”

The rest of the sound check goes smoothly, but in the in-between moments, Dahyun and I can’t help but chat. As we talk, I discover we share more in common than I expected. Both preacher’s kids, both passionate about our art, and we even have a similar sense of humor. Every time she laughs at one of my jokes, it feels like a little spark, pulling me closer to her.

“Did you ever have to perform at church?” I ask, curious about her upbringing.

“All the time!” she replies, her eyes shining with excitement. “I think I was born on stage. My dad used to drag me up to sing when I was, like, five.”

“Seriously? That’s adorable,” I say, grinning at the thought. “I can imagine you stealing the spotlight even back then.”

Her cheeks turn a light shade of pink, and she looks down, playing with a strand of her hair. “Well, I might have been a bit of a show-off,” she admits, glancing back at me with a playful smile.

Just then, Sana and Broly approach us, interrupting our moment. “Hey lovebirds,” Sana teases, her voice dripping with mischief as she leans into Broly, who chuckles at the playful jab.

Dahyun and I exchange a quick, embarrassed glance, our faces heating up. “We’re not—” I stammer, but Sana cuts me off with a wave of her hand.

“Oh, please, you both are practically glowing. It’s cute.” She nudges Broly, who smirks knowingly.

Broly grins, crossing his arms. “If they are lovebirds, does that make us a flock?” He leans closer to Sana, who laughs and playfully kisses his nose, leaving him momentarily stunned.

“Broly is definitely the strong, silent type,” Sana says, smirking at him. “But he can definitely be charming when he wants to be.”

“Charm is overrated,” Broly replies, a playful challenge in his tone. “I prefer to let my actions speak for themselves.”

Meanwhile, Dahyun leans closer to me, her eyes sparkling. “So, DJ, do you have any secret talents we should know about?” she asks, her voice soft but teasing.

I chuckle, feeling the heat rise again. “Well, I can juggle, but only when I’m nervous,” I reply, glancing at her with a playful grin. “Maybe I’ll show you later.”

“Oh, I’d love to see that!” she giggles, nudging me lightly with her shoulder.

As we continue to banter, I notice Sana and Broly leaning into each other, their chemistry undeniably electric. Broly catches Sana’s gaze, and without missing a beat, he says, “I bet I could out-juggle you anytime, Sana.”

“Oh, is that a challenge?” Sana replies, her eyes twinkling. “You might want to think twice about that.”

“Bring it on,” he smirks, clearly enjoying their playful competition.

Amidst all this, Dahyun suddenly leans in a bit closer to me, her shoulder brushing against mine, sending a jolt through me. “So, DJ,” she says, her voice dropping slightly, “how do you feel about working with a bunch of divas?”

I laugh lightly, meeting her gaze. “I think I’m in over my head, but I’m here for it,” I reply, the tension between us palpable.

Just then, as I watch Dahyun’s playful smile, I see her blow me a quick kiss, and my heart skips a beat. Was I really falling for her?

In contrast, Sana’s flirtation with Broly intensifies as she begins to dance behind him, giving him sultry looks that make him chuckle and blush. Their playful competition fills the space with energy, drawing the attention of the other members, who watch with amusement.

However, amidst all the fun, Tzuyu stands a little farther away, observing the scene unfold. As she sees Dahyun and I laughing together, an unfamiliar feeling stirs in her stomach. It’s a mix of warmth and something else—something she can’t quite place, but it reminds her of the way she feels about DJ. A hint of confusion flickers in her eyes as she watches, unable to shake the sensation of jealousy and intrigue.

After the soundcheck, I meet up with Tzuyu who bears an expression that is a mix of confusion worry, and something I can't place. She drags me back to my room and says,

“I saw you with Dahyun today,”

Instantly I felt scummy bit Chewy’s eyes flickered with a heat that I didn't recognize. She kissed me and the heat in the kiss is fiery. Chewy pauses for a bit and says, “Please tell me you won't leave me,” I see the pleading in her eyes before confidently saying never. Chewy smiles before kissing me again and removing my clothes.

“Good!” Tzuyu moans as she undresses. She pins me to the bed and mounts me. She slowly grinds on me and I watch as rides me with poise and precision. Her modest tits bounce and I reach up to grab them Tzuyu’s eyes focus on me as she smiles while I massage her breasts. Her walls tighten around me as she continues her “joyride” A moment later I bring Tzuyu in for a kiss as I cup her face. Tzuyu smiles and moans into the kiss.

“You always make me feel so special,” she rasps and I smile before confirming that she is special.

Tzuyu then decided she'd had enough of the slow stuff before she picked up the pace. She rides me faster and faster as she chases her high then when it crashes into her she moans out “Dahyun.” I am so confused that I instantly go soft on her. Tzuyu smiled and then said that was so good before kissing my cheek and cuddling next to me. She got a comfy good night’s rest but I was up the whole night.

The next morning I get up early to talk to you hoping to make sense of last night. as I go looking for you to discuss what happened last night I bump into Sana.

“Hi Dj. How are you?” she asks happy. I shrug which Sana takes notice of.

“Trouble in paradise with Chewy?” she asks. I shake my head and explain,

“No Sana its just weird. I was with Tzuyu last night and she called out for Dahyun. Sana looks at me confused until it clicks.

“Oh I guess it's time again.”

“Time for what?”

“Okay so this may be hard to believe but Tzuyu might have a crush on Dahyun,”

I nodded at Sana’s words stunned, “You are right that is hard to believe.”

“Well neither will admit it but they both have massive crushes on each other, and I think you are their full manifestation of that, because what Chewy likes about Dahyun she sees in you and what Dahyun likes in Chewy she also sees in you. So have fun and enjoy the roller coaster ,” Sana explains then teases which confuses me even more. Sana notices this confusion laughs and says, “Don't worry about it DJ too much. I think you should just go with the flow and let them figure their feelings out.”

I nod confused still and Sana smiles before giving me a big sister-type hug.

“It's okay Dj no matter what happens you'll be fine I promise. Now if you'll excuse me I have a photographer to unravel. Do you know which one of these rooms is Broly’s?” Sana says with a hungry look in her eye. I point to Broly’s room and she smiles before saying “fighting” to encourage me before knocking on his door.

As I walk away to grab food for myself and Tzuyu, I can’t help but chuckle at the thought of Sana's excitement. Moments later, I hear the faint sound of a door opening and then a playful voice.

“Hey, Broly!” Sana greets as she steps into his room.

Broly blinks at her, still slightly groggy. He notices she’s wearing an oversized hoodie that swallows her frame, the fabric hanging off her shoulders in a way that’s both cozy and inviting.

“Huh? This is a surprise. What's with the hoodie fit?” he asks, raising an eyebrow as she skips over to the couch.

Sana’s eyes sparkle with mischief as she plops down, watching him with an intensity that makes him sit up a little straighter. “I like you, and I want you to be mine,” she declares, her voice playful yet earnest.

Broly blinks, taken aback. “We just met,” he exclaims, confusion washing over his features.

“And in that short time, I realized I like you and want to date you,” she continues, sensing his hesitation. Quick to reinforce her words, she leans in, her doe eyes wide and earnest. “Do you not like me?”

Caught off guard, Broly’s defenses drop a notch. “No, I’d love to date you. It’s just… why me?”

Sana suppresses a smirk, pleased that her charm is working. “Well, you’re funny, tough, and handsome. You give me good vibes, so why not?” Her smile is bright and infectious, but there’s a glint in her eye that suggests something deeper.

Broly laughs, clearly flattered. “Okay then, sure.”

Sana beams at him, a triumphant grin lighting up her face. “Yay!” But then, as if a switch flips, her expression shifts. The playful spark in her eyes deepens, and she leans forward slightly, her posture suddenly exuding confidence and intent. “First, some ground rules. I won't be sharing you with anyone.”

The atmosphere in the room thickens, and Broly’s brows furrow, taken aback by the abrupt shift. “Uh, okay…”

Sana’s voice drops to a sultry whisper, her eyes locking onto his with a predatory focus. “I’m serious, Broly. I don’t do love triangles or sharing. If we’re together, it’s just us.” The way she leans in makes Broly feel both exhilarated and slightly uneasy, the intensity of her gaze making his heart race.

He nods slowly, processing the sudden depth of her request. “Right, noted.”

“I want to go on cute dates as often as we can,” she continues, her demeanor oscillating between playful and commanding. “But I also want you to know that if anyone tries to come between us, they’ll have to deal with me.” She smiles, but it’s the kind of smile that sends a shiver down Broly’s spine.

“What do you mean by ‘deal with you’?” he asks, half-laughing, half-worried.

Sana straightens up, her playful facade slightly cracking as she leans back, letting the intensity linger. “I’m not afraid to fight for what I want, Broly. I’m serious about this.”

The air between them crackles with unspoken possibilities, and Broly finds himself both fascinated and intimidated. This isn’t the playful girl he met earlier; this is someone entirely different—assertive, confident, and fiercely determined.

As Sana inches closer, her playful smirk returning, he realizes that he’s drawn to this side of her, even if it’s a bit daunting. “Okay, I can handle that,” he replies, though his voice wavers slightly.

“Good,” she says, her tone lightening again, but the underlying tension remains palpable. “Just remember, I’m not just a cute girl in a hoodie. I know what I want.”

Broly nods, feeling the weight of her words settle in. “I get that. I’m just... surprised.”

Sana leans back, crossing her arms with a satisfied smile. “Surprised is good. Keeps things interesting, right?”

He can’t help but grin at her, feeling a rush of adrenaline. This playful game between them is becoming more intriguing by the second.

Sana stood up and removed her hoodie to reveal a dark black and crimson lingerie set with a garter belt.

“And lastly I need you to keep up when you fuck me.” her voice was dripped with lust and desire. She sashayed over to Broly who sat stunned as she started grinding her crotch on Broly’s before giving him a whorish kiss

She pulls Broly’s shorts down revealing his cock that eagerly plops on her face. Sana’s eyes go wide.

“Oh, I knew you were big Sana moans,” as she palms his BBC. She can't even fully wrap her hand around it. She smiles as she starts stroking him. Her pace is deliberate and intense as she wants to get him as big and as hard for her as possible. Broly groans surprised and horny as Sana has her way with him. As she pushed him to the bed she noticed that Broly had a very specific air

“Oh, are you a virgin?” Sana asked as she slowed her pace. Broly nodded and Sana’s eyes widened.

“Oh my gosh you're telling me Im the first to touch you like this?”

Sana licked her lips as the burning hunger she felt in her womb began to drive her feral. She lined up her dripping pussy with Broly’s cock and sinks down on it.

“Oh fuck you’re gonna split me in half,” Sana moans. Broly is helplessly overwhelmed by all these new sensations and immediately cums inside of Sana. She howls as his semen fills her. She looks down seeing his blissed out face and runs her hands over burly brolic body and cooes “oh I’m gonna have so much fun with you,” she says before getting off of him. Broly apologizes for cumming so early and Sana sweetly whispers to him

“It’s okay baby. We’ll work on our stamina together because I could barely get you inside of me how big are you like 7 inches long and 3 inches thick?”

Broly chuckles and replied “9 by 4 inches.”

Sana’s eyes widen and she says “I’m gonna start calling you Anaconda because fuck your huge.” Broly smiles as Sana kisses his cheek.

The rest of the day goes smoothly, with another practice session scheduled in the late afternoon. I’m tasked with taking more photos, my camera hanging around my neck as I move quietly around the room, capturing the group’s energy. Everything is supposed to be professional—just another day on the job.

But then there’s Dahyun.

She’s dancing near the back of the group, her usual bright energy filling the room. Every now and then, I catch her glancing my way, her eyes sparkling with mischief. It’s like she knows exactly how to pull me in without even trying.

I focus my lens on her, zooming in as she takes a break to adjust her hair. Through the camera, I can see her smile slowly creeping up when she notices me aiming at her.

"Are you sure you’re supposed to be photographing me this much?” she teases, her voice playful but quiet enough not to disturb the others.

I lower the camera slightly, giving her a grin. “You keep finding my lens. Hard to resist a good shot.”

She laughs softly, crossing her arms with a mock-serious look. “Are you saying I’m your best subject?”

I shrug, trying to play it cool even though my heart skips a beat. “You do make my job pretty easy.”

Dahyun’s smile grows as she tilts her head, giving me a cute pout. “Hmm, are you flirting with me again, DJ?”

I freeze for a moment, but then I chuckle. “Who, me? I’m just stating facts. You’re always flirting first.”

Her eyes widen in feigned innocence, her hand lightly pressing to her chest. “Me? Flirting? I’d never!”

I raise an eyebrow, lowering my camera entirely now. “Uh-huh. Like earlier, when you asked me to ‘get your good side,’ knowing full well every side is your good side?”

Dahyun giggles, taking a step closer to me, her eyes bright with amusement. “I can’t help it if I’m photogenic. But I think you just like taking pictures of me.”

I smirk, leaning in just slightly, my voice lowering to match her teasing tone. “Maybe I do.”

For a moment, our eyes lock, and I swear the rest of the room fades away. She’s standing just close enough that I can smell her perfume, something light and sweet that messes with my focus.

Before I can say anything else, Dahyun leans forward, her voice soft but dripping with playful intent. “You know, DJ, if you keep flirting like this, people might start talking.”

I laugh nervously, trying to keep my cool. “Let them talk. I’m just trying to get good pictures.”

“Is that all you’re trying to do?” Dahyun asks, her voice smooth, eyes sparkling as if she knows exactly what she's doing to me.

I blink, caught off guard by her boldness. She steps even closer, her playful expression giving way to something a little more sincere.

“Relax, DJ,” she whispers, a smile tugging at her lips. “I’m just messing with you.”

I swallow hard, trying to regain my composure. “Oh, I know. I just... wasn’t expecting you to be so good at it.”

Dahyun winks, biting her lower lip playfully. “I’ve had a lot of practice.”

The moment stretches between us, the banter flowing so naturally that I almost forget where we are. I lift my camera back up, trying to break the tension, but it doesn’t work. It’s still there, hanging in the air between us—undeniable.

I snap a few more shots, but my mind isn’t on the work anymore. It’s on her, on how easy it is to talk to her, to joke around like this. We just *click* in a way I can’t explain, and that thought both excites and terrifies me.

She catches me looking at her again, and this time, her smile is softer, almost shy. “Careful,” she says, “you’re gonna run out of film if you keep snapping pictures of me.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “Good thing this camera’s digital.”

She laughs too, the sound light and infectious, and I can’t help but join in. Every word, every laugh—it feels effortless. Natural.

As the practice winds down and the members start to pack up, I tell myself I’ll keep it professional tomorrow. I’ll keep my distance, focus on the work.

But then Dahyun throws me a wink as she heads toward the exit, and I know that’s not going to happen.

It’s late afternoon, and Twice has just finished rehearsing for the day. The members slowly filter out of the practice room, some heading to the hotel while others linger to chat or stretch. Tzuyu, her heart heavy with a mixture of emotions, lingers behind, eyes darting toward Dahyun, who is laughing with me as Broly and I gather our camera equipment.

Tzuyu’s chest tightens as she watches Dahyun’s bright smile and carefree nature around me. She takes a deep breath and approaches Dahyun just as I excuse myself to adjust my camera for the next shoot.

“Dahyun,” Tzuyu calls out, her voice soft but firm.

Dahyun turns around, her usual playful energy dimming a little at the seriousness in Tzuyu’s tone. “Yeah? What’s up?”

Tzuyu hesitates, not quite sure how to begin. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, her fingers nervously fiddling with the hem of her shirt. “Can we talk? Alone?”

Sensing the tension, Dahyun frowns but nods. “Of course.” The two of them move to a quieter corner of the room, away from the lingering staff.

“What’s going on?” Dahyun asks, concern evident in her voice.

Tzuyu takes a breath, her gaze dropping to the floor before she finally speaks. “Can you... stop flirting with DJ?”

Dahyun blinks, surprised. “What? What are you talking about?”

Tzuyu clenches her fists at her sides, struggling to keep her composure. “I see the way you look at him, Dahyun. The way you’re always laughing and... it just feels like you’re...”

“Like I’m what?” Dahyun’s brow furrows, her confusion growing. “I don’t flirt with DJ. We’re just—”

“Friends?” Tzuyu cuts in, her voice rising in frustration. “That’s not how it looks to me!”

Dahyun’s expression shifts, a mixture of hurt and defensiveness crossing her face. “Why are you getting so worked up about this, Tzuyu? DJ and I are close, sure, but that doesn’t mean anything. Why are you suddenly acting like this?”

Tzuyu’s heart pounds in her chest, the jealousy she’s been trying to suppress bubbling to the surface. “Because I care about him! And... I don’t know if you’re just playing around or if you’re serious, but it’s confusing. For him and for me.”

Dahyun’s eyes narrow, her voice soft but pointed. “Is that what this is about? You’re worried about *him*? Or is it something else?”

Tzuyu falters, her resolve crumbling as she struggles to articulate her emotions. “I just... I don’t want you to hurt him.”

Dahyun’s voice is softer now, but there’s a sharp edge to it. “Tzuyu, I wouldn’t hurt him. He’s a good guy, and I like spending time with him. But why are you acting like you’re the only one who cares about him? What’s really going on here?”

Tzuyu shakes her head, biting her lip. She feels the weight of her unsaid feelings, pressing against her chest, threatening to spill out. She turns away, not wanting Dahyun to see the tears welling up in her eyes.

“Tzuyu...” Dahyun steps forward, her tone gentler now, almost tender. “Why are you so upset?”

“I don’t know!” Tzuyu exclaims, her frustration boiling over. She turns back to Dahyun, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I don’t know, okay? I don’t know why it hurts so much when I see you with him! And I don’t know why I care so much about who makes him happy. Maybe because... because...”

Dahyun steps closer, her own heart racing now, as if some unspoken truth is on the verge of breaking free. “Because why?”

“Because *I’m* the one who’s confused!” Tzuyu blurts out, her voice cracking. “Not about him... about you!”

Dahyun’s eyes widen, her breath catching in her throat. “Tzuyu...”

“I don’t know when it happened,” Tzuyu continues, her voice shaking. “But suddenly, it wasn’t just DJ anymore. I started... I started feeling something for you, too, and I don’t know what to do with it. It scares me, Dahyun, because I don’t know how to handle it. And I—”

Before she can finish, Dahyun closes the gap between them, cupping Tzuyu’s face in her hands. “Tzuyu, stop.” Her voice is barely above a whisper. “You’re not the only one who’s been confused.”

Tzuyu’s breath hitches as she stares into Dahyun’s eyes, the world around them fading away.

Dahyun’s thumb brushes Tzuyu’s cheek gently. “I’ve been feeling something too. About you. I just... didn’t know how to say it.”

The weight of Dahyun’s confession sends a rush of relief and disbelief through Tzuyu. “You... you feel the same way?”

Dahyun nods, her gaze never leaving Tzuyu’s. “Yeah. I do.”

For a moment, neither of them moves, both caught in the raw intensity of the moment. Then, as if drawn by some invisible force, Dahyun leans in, her lips brushing softly against Tzuyu’s. The kiss is tentative at first, delicate, but it quickly deepens as they both realize the depth of their unspoken feelings.

Neither of them notices the door to the rehearsal room opening. Sana and Broly freeze just inside, their eyes widening as they witness the two girls lost in their kiss. Broly clears his throat softly, but Sana quickly shushes him, grabbing his arm and dragging him back out into the hallway.

“Well, that was unexpected,” Broly murmurs once they’re outside, his tone amused.

Sana grins mischievously, her eyes twinkling. “I knew it. They’ve been dancing around each other for ages.”

Broly raises an eyebrow. “Guess DJ’s in for a surprise.”

Sana shrugs playfully, already plotting her next round of teasing. “Oh, he’s got a *lot* to process, but... I have a feeling he’ll be just fine.”

Back inside, Dahyun and Tzuyu pull apart, their foreheads resting against each other as they catch their breath. Tzuyu’s heart feels lighter than it has in weeks, her confusion slowly melting away in the warmth of Dahyun’s presence.

“I’m sorry for being so jealous,” Tzuyu whispers, her voice barely audible.

Dahyun smiles softly, pressing a kiss to Tzuyu’s forehead. “You don’t have to apologize. We’ll figure this out... together.”

Tzuyu nods, her heart pounding but filled with a quiet certainty that whatever comes next, they’ll face it side by side.

#kpop fanfic #male reader #fanfic #twice fanfic #twice smut #tzuyu smut #sana smut

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jeonginsleftcheek · 2 days

Text

The sun to me

Chapter II. Water drop.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x afab!reader

word count: 5.1k

chapter summary: you could say that destiny always has a way of bringing together the souls that need each other. hyunjin meets not one but two people who will change his life for good.

warnings: tw for brief and vague mention of depression and suicide

~ Masterlist for the series

~ next part

🤍 Snowdrop - hope and the ability to overcome challenges.

Deep breath in.

Hyunjin feels like his lungs are expanding, like a flower opening up its petals to receive the warmth of the sun.

It takes him a few seconds to even register the sounds of people who were aboard the ship with him, laughing, talking, walking further away from the pier.

Someone walks towards him and for a brief moment his chest constricts as he waits to be questioned, bothered and ogled at but the man passes him by, saying hello to one of the crew members.

Hyunjin exhales and starts walking towards the road, he needs to track down the location of the room he barely managed to find on the internet.

It was a hassle, getting to the owner of the little apartment, since it wasn't summer yet and the tourists haven't even started arriving. Not that many people even come to this island, which is exactly why Hyunjin chose to hide away on it.

He knows, hopes, no one here has heard about him. He hopes he can just be a regular guy and go about his day, reset his body and his mind.

Fishing out his phone out of his pocket as he stops walking, he frowns immediately upon seeing it blowing up with messages.

Good thing he put it on silent or he might've just let his intrusive thoughts win and chucked the godforsaken device right into the sea.

Hyunjin ignores all the little bubbles and notifications, opting to just find the address on google again.

The island is so small, so unknown, so irrelevant that even after finding the address information, it seems that gps has trouble finding him on the map.

It's like he literally fell off the face of Earth and for some reason, that brings him relief.

He stuffs his phone back in his pocket, he's gonna have to find someone to ask for directions.

He looks around, noticing everyone cleared away from the pier so he just follows the first street down.

It's eerily quiet, even on such a sunny, lively day, the sound of his suitcase being dragged breaking the beautiful peace of the island. All the houses are adorned with flower pots on their windows and balconies, colorful gardens inviting you in, mesmerizing like a flower is to a bee.

Hyunjin hopes he can find some kind of shop or cafe or anything with people in it, but all he comes across are a few cats sitting on a low roof and staring at him menacingly, as if asking 'what the hell are you doing here'.

He sighs in frustration, thinking he'll actually have to knock on someone's door and disturb their Friday afternoon peace.

Just when he's mentally prepared himself to knock on a stranger's door and potentially have them yell at him, his eyes light up.

There, on the corner, is a little flower shop like an oasis in a desert, promising safety and aid. Hyunjin speeds up towards it, the suitcase almost flipping behind him as it bumps against the uneven and cracked sidewalk.

It's time for your lunch break, the old clock on the wall reminds you together with your stomach, growling embarassingly loudly.

You're behind the counter, about to grab your bag and keys, when you hear footsteps approaching and the sound of suitcase wheels scraping against the stones before they come to a stop in front of the door.

"Um, hello?"- you hear a pleasant and curious voice ring out from the outside, you almost want to curse the person out because everyone on the island knows when lunch breaks happen, but judging by the suitcase and the unknown voice it must be someone who just arrived here for the first time.

"Hello, come in!"- you sense the apprehension and you walk around the counter, coming face to face with what you would describe as a man made of dreams.

Your breath gets stuck in your throat, and his reaction seems to be similar, as his eyes widen slowly to the point where he almost looks completely bamboozled as his lips part and he just stares.

Quickly shaking it off and putting on your customer service persona, you smile at the stranger.

"How can I help you?"- you ask and he swallows, closing his lips as he seems to snap out of whatever trance he fell in.

"I- um- I'm looking for this address. I booked a room here, but I can't seem to find it on google maps."- the stranger pulls his phone out and shows you the address and you nod.

"Oh, at Isaac's. It's not too far away from here, just keep going straight until you see a blue house, then go right and up the hill a little bit, you can't miss it since it's the biggest house on that street."- you explain.

"Oh, thank you! I thought I was gonna get lost."- he smiles a little and you chuckle, shaking your head. This seems to deepen the redness of the young man's cheeks.

"You can't get lost here. The island is so small, you can circle around it three times in one day and still have some daylight left. Plus, most of the time the internet doesn't even work so you can't rely on gps. If you need to make calls or such, you'd best stand on the pier and try to catch the signal."

"Oh, thank you for the tips. I'm actually relieved that there's no internet."- the man says, running a hand through his dark hair.

You quirk an eyebrow at him, your eyes running over his frame.

"That's a first. People usually complain about that."- you say, as you take in his expensive looking jewelry, the branded shirt hugging his lean but toned frame, jeans also probably more expensive than your entire wardrobe and the fancy sneakers on his feet.

"Then they've probably come to the wrong place."- he concludes with a small smile.

"Probably."- you agree, ready to end the chat even though literal eye candy was standing in front of you, you craved a warm meal more than anything else.

There was a moment of awkward silence as the handsome stranger sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, bringing your attention to it.

"Well, it's my lunch break, so... If I can't assist you with buying some flowers, I'd like to close up shop."- you say as politely as you can.

"Oh! Sure, sorry for taking up your time."- he looks apologetic as you round your counter to grab your things.

"It's okay, glad I could help."- you smile as the both of you make your way towards the exit.

"I'm Hyunjin, by the way."- he reaches his hand towards you just as you close the door.

"Y/n."- your hand slots into his and he shakes it, soft but firm.

"Nice to meet you, y/n."- something about the way your name rolls from his pillowy lips melts the ice built around your heart, gentle like the first snowdrop peeking it's head through the snow.

There's something different bubbling up inside Hyunjin, something he hasn't felt in a long time.

As he makes his way up the little hill towards the biggest house with faded yellow paint, chipped at some parts of the wall, his heart skips a few beats.

Maybe it's because he's been a bit out of shape lately, or maybe it's because of you.

You with your genuine smile, you with your curious eyes and with all the pretty flowers surrounding you.

The flowers that used to bring inspiration and comfort to Hyunjin, ones he painted so happily, his hand gliding easily across the once blank canvas, the colors all bleeding into one another, kissing and loving.

The feeling he forgot. The feeling of love. The feeling of home. The nostalgia that inevitably comes with it.

Hyunjin knocks on the big wooden door, and after a few moments he hears heavy footsteps and a voice calling out.

The door swings open and a man probably in his 60s stands in the frame with a friendly smile on his face.

His grey hair is neatly pulled back, the wrinkles on his face are proof of how many years he smiled and frowned. There's a sparkle in his eyes and a bright smile on his face, showing off perfectly white teeth that he probably had done.

He's dressed in a simple black turtleneck and grey pants, the only ornament on his body in the shape of a huge silver ring, a black tourmaline stone in the middle of it.

"Welcome, welcome! You must be Hyunjin. Come in, young man."- the man smiles wide, immediately helping Hyunjin with his suitcase and stepping aside so he could come in.

"My name is Isaac. But you probably already had that figured out."- the man waves his hand as if to dismiss what he just said. "Welcome to my humble abode, I hope your stay here is as cozy as can be."- Isaac says, leading Hyunjin through the lobby and towards the big carpeted wooden stairs.

The house looks old but well taken care of, everything is wiped clean and polished, each nook and cranny devoid of any dust and neglect.

Hyunjin can't help but notice the skillfully crafted wood on the handrail, as well as a few other sculptures carved out of wood, taking the shape of people with their head in their hands who are desperately crying, lovers holding onto each other where you can't even tell where one ends and the other starts, beautiful women with big breasts and tummies lying on their side, vunerable and goddess-like.

Isaac eyes Hyunjin carefully as he seems glued to all the works of art around him, probably forgetting that he should be settling into his room and eating something.

"What do you think, young man?"- Isaac asks, making Hyunjin jolt a little as he looks up for a second before the carved sculptures grab his attention again.

"Very beautiful pieces, there's so much detail in each and every one. They must be very expensive."- Hyunjin comments making the older man chuckle deeply.

"Yes, very expensive. Cost me a lot of time and patience. And then of course, there's the material. The actual wood."- Isaac crosses his arms on his chest and Hyunjin needs a few seconds before a lightbulb appears above his head.

"Oh... Oh, you made them. That's incredible, you're an artist."- Hyunjin smiles, somewhat chuckling ironically for the fact that he can't seem to escape that which he considers brought him to the state he's in right now. "I'm kind of an artist too."- he downplays whatever life he built, suddenly feeling too dumb and embarassed do act boisterous in front of Isaac.

"Let me see your hands."- Isaac says and Hyunjin doesn't question him, just reaches his hands towards the man and Isaac leans down a little, his lips pursed as he folds his hands behind his back, a quiet hum in the back of his throat.

"You're a painter."- Isaac concludes before lifting up.

"How did you know?"- Hyunjin's eyes widen just a little, his eyebrows lifting up and Isaac lets out a laugh.

"Your skin is too pristine for anything else. But your nails are stained a little."- Hyunjin brings his hands up, closer to his face, and stares as if he sees his own hands for the first time.

He never noticed the slight staining on his fingers, almost forgetting the fact that beyond all the expensive paintbrushes and tools, an artist's work comes from his hands and his heart.

Is his heart stained too?

"Which one calls to you the most?"- Isaac brings him out of his thoughts again with his warm and patient voice and Hyunjin follows his line of sight, landing his eyes on the beautiful wooden sculptures again.

Maybe if he was younger he'd choose the woman, her breasts full and supple, inviting him to lay his head on them, wrap his lips around the tender nipples.

Maybe if he wasn't so jaded, he'd choose the lovers because love is the greatest feeling of them all, love is what makes people climb the highest mountain peak, swim the deepest ocean, reach the furthest star.

But Hyunjin can't help but stare at the man sitting in despair, fingertips digging into his own forehead as if he wants to rip his face out, take his brain out and scream at it.

Isaac sees. He sees through Hyunjin, he was once like him. Caught in the web of self-hatred and nihilism, despising everything he once held so dearly in his heart.

"You must be hungry."- Isaac never comments on Hyunjin's silent choice and he's thankful for that.

"Actually, yes."- Hyunjin feels the emptiness in his stomach as soon as food is mentioned and he realizes he hasn't eaten anything since last night.

"Why don't you get settled in and I will heat up some dinner?"- Isaac suggests and Hyunjin quickly shakes his head.

"You don't need to do that for me, I'm sure you have other business to attend to."- Hyunjin says.

"Nonsense, I don't mind at all. Honestly, it gets a little lonely here before the tourists start coming in so it would be nice to have someone to talk to. Other than my sculptures, that is."- Isaac says with a chuckle.

"Alright, if it's no bother then."- Hyunjin nods, giving a small smile to the warm man.

"Your room is the last door on the right."- Isaac points towards the staircase.

"Thank you."

Isaac smiles, quickly turning on his heel and leaving, presumably to the kitchen.

Hyunjin makes his way upstairs, his suitcase in his hands, the floorboards look too old and sensitive to drag the harsh wheels on them so he opts to just keep carrying his suitcase to his room.

Every wall is adorned with framed wooden carvings, sculptures even bigger than the ones downstairs are sitting in the corners of the hall.

Hyunjin curiously eyes every single one of them, waiting for them to suddenly come alive and move.

He shakes his head quickly, opening the last door on the right.

A loud gasp escapes his lips as soon as he walks into the room. It's bigger than he thought it would be, decorated like the rest of the house, everything is carved out of wood and the works of art made from Isaac's hands have become a staple that Hyunjin's eyes are already getting used to.

Hyunjin lays his suitcase down next to the closet and his legs first take him to the big window, the curtains pulled back and neatly tied up on the sides of the window frame.

The view is breathtaking, being up on the hill allows him to see almost everything, the sea, the shore, the main square with a church and also part of the little flower shop that he was just inside a few minutes ago.

Hyunjin needs to snap a picture. He fishes out his camera and after adjusting it, he takes a few pictures of the beautiful view, zooming in on the flower shop for a second and seeing that the door is still closed and the lights are still off.

You must be on your lunch break as you said.

He looks around the room again, the huge bed looks inviting after traveling for hours but he needs to eat something first.

The room that's warm and lived in, the smell of varnished wood and cinnamon enveloping his senses, the lively art pieces around him, make for a big contrast to Hyunjin's modern apartment, cold steel, black leather, the smell of cleanliness, the perfection of it all, the paintings that he despises from the bottom of his soul.

The ones he made in a state of delirium because Charlie was pressuring him, because people want more, because he needs to meet the deadline, because he's obligated to do them.

A metallic taste spreads inside Hyunjin's mouth and it takes him a few seconds to realize he bit his lip so hard that he drew blood.

He curses under his breath, walking into the adjoining bathroom to wash his mouth and thoughts away.

Lunch break was something you loved to spend in your favorite restaurant unless it was tourist season.

Then, it would get too crowded for your liking so you'd just go back home and eat before re-opening your shop.

Everything is 2-3 minutes of walking distance, your shop and your home, and the restaurant that a young married couple owns.

"The usual?"- Bennet peeked his head from behind the kitchen wall, and you chuckled giving the man a thumbs up.

You took your book out of your bag and looked out the window before little giggles on your left caught your attention and you turn to see Luna, the owner's 6 year old daughter, staring at you with big shiny eyes and holding a makeshift daisy bouquet in her little hands.

"Oh, is that for me?"- you ask slowly, pointing at yourself.

She stares at your lips before giving a little nod and another giggle before she reaches the flowers towards you.

Your hand is placed on your chin, then reached towards her as you mouth a 'thank you'.

She smiles happily, her chubby cheeks rosy before she runs away to play.

Catherine is quick to catch up to the little girl, gently grabbing her shoulders before signing a 'be careful' to which the girl nods and mouths an 'okay'.

"Hey, y/n."- Catherine lets out a sigh and you chuckle.

"Is she giving you a hard time today?"- you ask as she puts your lemonade down on the table.

"Try yelling at a deaf child to watch out from a distance."- she shakes her head, a bead of sweet running down her forehead. "My whole life flashed before my eyes, but luckily it was Delmar and he managed to stop his car just in time."

"Heart attack inducing stuff."- you nod. "But everything ended well and I'm sure she'll be more careful now."

"I hope so too."- Catherine nods with a smile, before turning to go check on her daughter.

You sigh quietly, looking through the window again as you sip on your lemonade when suddenly, the face of the handsome stranger called Hyunjin appears in your mind.

There's something that flickers in your chest at the thought of his smile. Then it clicks.

He's probably the celebrity that Barbara talked about, he must be an actor or a singer with a face like that, you think.

You wonder why he would come here though.

Maybe he got sick of all the glitz and glitter that being famous brings. That's something you could never be, live in the spotlight like that, to be picked at and proded at like you were some kind of test subject, looked at like you were some kind of animal in a cage, existing to entertain other people.

"Here you go, y/n."- a plate is placed on your table, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"Oh, thank you."- you smile at Bennet, as the aroma of your favorite meal fills up your space, making your stomach growl again.

It's quiet as you start eating and as always you ask Catherine and Luna to join you, which they usually happily agree to unless there are customers to attend to.

Bennet whips up their favorites quickly and excuses himself because he has a kitchen to clean, as he says, while you learn a few new words that help you communicate with Luna.

The sounds of utensils clinking against plates fill up the room as Hyunjin and Isaac sit in his dining room. It's the most lavish room yet, the table they're eating on feels too precious to even be used so Hyunjin is extra careful with his meal.

The big chandelier hangs above their heads, the sunlight shining through the huge windows that reveal a balcony, reflects in the crystal pendants decorating the chandelier, creating little rainbows scattered around the room.

"My father made this table."- Isaac notices Hyunjin looking at it, as if he's deep in thought.

"It's really exquisite. I feel a little apprehensive using it as a regular dining table."- Hyunjin says and Isaac chuckles.

"We ate on it every day. And then my wife and son too."- Isaac says, the mood shifting suddenly as a sad smile spreads on his face.

"You have a son?"- Hyunjin asks, taking another bite of the meat.

"I had a son."- Isaac nods and Hyunjin feels bad that he pried.

"I'm sorry."- he didn't want to dig into someone's wound so he looked down at his plate, feeling remorseful for asking.

"It's okay, it's been years. He was probably around your age when he left us."- Isaac reminisces.

"Was he sick?"- Hyunjin asks, seeing that Isaac wanted to talk about his son, maybe it brought him some kind of comfort to keep the memory of him alive.

"He was... sad. Very sad. We tried everything. But nothing could light the spark in his eyes."- Isaac shivers with a sad smile.

"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have asked anything."- Hyunjin quickly says, feeling embarassed for himself and sad for the kind man sitting across from him.

"No, it's okay, you didn't know."- Isaac shakes his head. "I like talking about my son. He was also great with woodwork. I learned from my father and he learned from me. Guess it runs in the family."- he nods with a small smile.

"If you'd like, I could teach you some woodworking too."- Isaac suggests before Hyunjin can say anything.

He can see the turmoil on Hyunjin's face, the cogs turning behind his eyes as he struggles with whether to love or hate that suggestion.

"I'll be in my studio later if you want to join me."- Isaac intervenes quickly, pointing to the hall.

"What was his name, if you don't mind me asking?"- Hyunjin asks after a few moments of silence, referring to Isaac's son.

"Leo."- Isaac says with a kind of pain in his voice.

Hyunjin finds those three letters etched into the windowsill in the room he booked, his fingertips tracing the chipped wood, realizing quickly that this room once belonged to him.

Hyunjin doesn't join Isaac in his studio, he can't bear to even think about painting or woodwork at this moment, all he wants is to feel free from the confines he created for himself.

After lunch, he took a much needed nap and then an even more needed warm shower. He walks out into the room with only a towel wrapped around his waist, using another one to dry his hair.

Being up on the hill probably caught some signal on his phone as it buzzes next to the bed. Hyunjin frowns, making his way to it and grabbing it.

Charlie. Of course.

In the heat of the moment, he doesn't think, he just chucks the phone on the bed and it bounces up and smacks into the closet and then lands down on the floor with a loud thud, the battery falling out.

"That oughta do it."- he says quietly, leaving the device where it landed.

Hyunjin gets dressed quickly, grabbing his backpack and camera before he makes his way downstairs. He glances shortly at the big door leading to Isaac's studio, something heavy weighing on his chest before he turns away and walks out of the house.

There's nothing like watching the sunset while sitting on the beach. The beautiful golden rays mixing with the orange and pink hues, reflecting on the water as the sun itself drowns in it.

You're sitting with your little diary in your hands, well one of many you have, one that still has empty pages you have to fill up.

Most of them consist of dried up flowers and even a few little sketches you did, sometimes you write something you found funny in it, sometimes you pour your soul out on the pages, your tears blurring your vision and smearing the ink of your pen.

Today, the page is blank but your mind isn't.

For some reason, it's filled with Hyunjin and you wish you were better at drawing people so that your hand could capture the face that was already etched in your brain even after you only saw him once.

A twig snaps behind you, and you quickly turn around, jolting a little.

He appears in your view like he was summoned, like he was there to help you see his face again so that you could maybe try to capture the beauty on paper.

"Oh..."- he also jolts a little like he got frightened by your presence. "Y/n, right?"- he licks his lips and swallows, as his feet come to a halt.

"Yeah."- you nod.

"Sorry if I scared you. Kinda scared myself too."- Hyunjin says with a timid smile, still keeping a good distance away from you.

"It's okay. Usually, no one comes here at this time so I was surprised."- you say and he slowly makes his way to you.

"Mind if I join you?"- he asks, almost timidly and you have to wonder what kind of celebrity is shy like that.

"Sure."- you nod and he comes closer, slowly sitting down on the rock next to yours.

"I decided to explore the island a little. And you were right, I saw everything in one evening."- he chuckles as he looks at you, then at the notebook in your hands curiously.

"Are you sure you saw everything? There are a few hidden spots here that only the locals know about."- you eye the camera in his hands.

Such pretty hands.

"Oh really? Is there a guide who could show me some of those hidden spots?"- he asks and you let out a small chuckle.

"Depends on how much you pay up."- you say and he looks at you before you start chuckling, making him chuckle too.

"I'm joking, of course. I mean, I'm free tomorrow if you want me to give you the real tour of the island."- you suggest, wiggling your eyebrows.

"I would love that."- Hyunjin nods, a smile spreading on his face that makes his eyes crinkle.

When was the last time he smiled like that?

Hyunjin lifts up his camera to snap a few pictures of the sunset and you can't help but look at his features more closely while he's distracted.

Beneath the smile and the obviously expensive attire, something inside him seems sad and tired, you can feel it meandering between your bodies.

"Is that a sketchbook?"- Hyunjin asks curiously, as you play with the cover of your notebook.

"Kind of. It's a sliver of my thoughts, if you will."- you say as you stare at it.

"Can I see?"- he asks and you look up at him, genuine interest painted on his face.

"Sure, I'll show you some sketches, just not the things I write."

"Yeah, of course, I don't want to invade your privacy."- he says and you nod, finding a page where you sketched a few tulips from different angles.

"Oh, that's really pretty. I like your shading."- Hyunjin leans in closer and you get a whiff of his shampoo that gets you feeling entranced for a moment.

"Ah, thank you. I'm not the best at drawing at all, it's just that I'm good with anything that has to do with flowers."- you smile, somewhat sadly, Hyunjin notices and something pulls him to you.

He wants to know everything, he wants to tell you everything.

But he's afraid.

He's afraid of revealing the truth, afraid of bursting the little bubble appearing around the two of you, he's frightened to open his soul up, only to find it was rotten, only to see you turn away.

Hyunjin is someone who believes, well, used to believe in love at first sight but that was before he destroyed everything gentle and pure inside him, creating another person out of the broken shards, a fake person, a disgusting and cold person who fades away into other darkened souls, lost in the abyss of eternal nothingness.

"You're an expert in your field. That's admirable."- Hyunjin manages to dig up anything that feels gentle, even for a split second.

"What about you? What is your field of expertise?"- you ask and Hyunjin dreads answering and talking about that which he despises right now.

"Art, I guess. Painting to be exact. I'm a painter?"

"You say that like you're unsure of it."- you give him an inquisitive smile.

"Sometimes you forget who you are and why you even do what you do. Sometimes, something you always knew and loved gets further away from you the more you try to reach out for it."- Hyunjin talks and you giggle, putting your notebook aside.

"Are you sure you're not a poet?"- you tease and Hyunjin chuckles nervously, his cheeks becoming rosy like the cotton candy clouds in the sunset before you.

"I'm better with colors than words, or at least I was."- he says, scratching his head as he purses his lips.

"You talk so nicely so I'm sure your art is even nicer."- you conclude.

It hasn't even been a day since he first laid his eyes upon you, but Hyunjin feels like you set his mind at ease with little effort, with just a few words and a sweet smile.

"Thank you."- he smiles. "I'll show you another time. I don't have my phone on me."- he adds.

"Looking forward to that."- you say. "And what you said earlier, I relate to it. Sometimes I feel like that with my flowers. But they're all I really know."- you shrug. "I always come back to them."

"Yeah, I find myself sitting in front of a blank canvas many times without even painting anything. I guess it's etched into my bones by now."

"Like part of your DNA."- you follow up and Hyunjin agrees.

"Is it okay if I take a picture of you?"- he asks after a few moments of comfortable silence.

The sun has almost completely immersed itself into the water and the last light of the day illuminates your facial features perfectly, the sparkle prominent in your eyes.

Hyunjin wants to capture what you talked about, how you looked and how you smiled at him and keep it in his heart forever.

"Sure."- you nod, chuckling a little.

You turn towards the sea, the last of the sun's rays reflecting off of the surface and almost hypnotizing you as you hear the click of the camera.

Hyunjin thinks this is the best picture he ever took.

And as he walks back to his current home, he feels like destiny intertwined her hands into his life, bringing the two of you together, like this is a start to something he can't even begin to fathom yet, like whatever he searched for, he found in you.

Maybe he just met you, but deep inside his wounded soul Hyunjin knows, you will become the most important person that touched his heart.

✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @porangporangmeong @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @laughatdanger @lixies-favorite-cookie @linavc @quokkacidal @thisaintredwine @m00gyu @yaorzu-blog @skzfelixlove @tajannah-price1 @puccaaak @aft2rsexs @xxkissesforchanniexx @aprilmaejune77 @lilmeowneow @stayjinnie @astrobebba @danihwang882 @kaysungshine @nchhuhi @1810cl @chartrucewhore @babigriin @jisuperboard @alisonyus @minluvly

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twst-drabbles · 1 day

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Malleus 17

Summary: Most of Malleus’s day is spent zoning out while bathing in sunlight. It’s always fun to see his little lizard brain occasionally spark up an idea.

(I used to have pet lizards. Loved the way their eyes convey the absolute emptiness going on in their brain.)

Malleus hasn’t blinked for the past hour. He just sits there, on the window sill, face turned towards the sunlight as he stared into the lush yard outside. From a certain angle, he almost looks forlorn, like a doll abandoned by the side of the road.

If Sebek was here, he’d certainly be fretting around Malleus, trying to snap him out whatever trance he was caught up in. And Silver would whisper his concerns into your ear, hoping you’d give him ideas as to what’s wrong with Malleus despite being his owner for longer. And Lilia, cute bat Lilia, he’d be trying to goad Malleus into playing a flying game with him just to get him moving.

You walked over, leaned against the window sill, and poked Malleus on the forehead. He didn’t so much as twitch, his eyes remain unblinking. You pushed your finger against his head and watched as he practically became a wobble doll. You let go and Malleus still body rocked back and forth until he was stable again.

Malleus was still staring off into the distance.

You snorted. “Not a thought behind those eyes, huh? Empty-headed little critter.”

Bathing in sunlight always does this to him, like the warmth of sun soothed all the chaos in his head into nothingness.

There’s nothing wrong with him, Malleus was just zoning out for the moment. He’ll be back online in a moment. It’s always entertaining to hear the way Silver describes him, like this little pet was some always caught up in some grand and mysterious scheme. A magical genius so smart that his thoughts escape everyone’s comprehension.

That’s not quite it thought. Malleus is Malleus, and he’s more the kind of pet to get stuck on one particular thought or subject for weeks on end. All pets have different phases and routines, and long-living fae pets such as Malleus were no exception. He’s just slower to get to the next phase.

You opened the window. The wind gently blew right past the both of you, guiding the falling leaves and gently caressing your curtains. You took a deep breath in, and sighed it out.

Suddenly, Malleus’s eyes snapped wide open, back stiff and wings jittery. Energetic, excited about something.

“Oh?” You lowered your head. “Did you get an idea?” Are the gears finally turning again in his brain.

You scratched at his soft belly scales and laughed when he practically launched himself out of your hand. He was practically a rocket as he shot out the window, barely more than a blur as he flew in a pattern only he knew.

This month’s obsession seems to be dizzying flight patterns. All because Malleus witnessed Lilia’s flying right after he finished eating some of Crowley’s fermented peaches.

After a round of unsteady figure eights, Malleus finished with a belly flop on the grass, as Lilia did before. He got up, cleaned himself off, and fly once more. He’s nothing if not determined, that’s for sure. Still, it’s hilarious that he spent the entire day zoning out at your house.

Sure, you were a little concerned when he first did it, but you figured it out soon enough. You did as you usually do and let the pets do their own thing.

Maybe that’s why Malleus likes to come over here often. You’ve never been much of a person that fusses. Unless they’re putting themselves in active danger, you’re not going to bother them every single second of their life.

Well, whatever the reason may be, it’s still made clear that your house is a place to zone out in. You know you do that often. And, you will admit, you love the way Malleus's eyes go all empty like that.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst-drabbles #twst-drabbles exclusive #drabble #diasomnia #malleus #malleus draconia #house pet au #reader insert

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beefrobeefcal · 2 days

Text

Purpose feat. Joel Miller & Hel my contribution for @perotovar's FRITH Celebration

Summary: Everyone has a purpose, but Joel is running from his. Read the prompt here.

Jackson!Joel Miller + Hel | Rating: 18+ (MDNI) | Word Count: 1,972

Content Warnings: multiple mentions of death, mourning, grief, loss, mention of suicide attempt

Author's Notes: Thank you @perotovar for the gift of this pairing - you're a true gem in this community 💜🥩💜 read all the Frith Fics here.

Thank you to @strang3lov3, @noxturnalpascal, @bitchesuntitled & @weregirlbyknight for their eyes and love. dividers made by @saradika-graphics

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Sitting on an old rocking chair on his front porch, Joel watched the procession go by his home towards the graveyard at the end of the main road.

Jackson mourns another, he thought to himself.

He sees the family of the departed, holding each other as they walk slowly behind the horse-drawn wagon carrying their beloved person in a pine box, and he knows the sorrow that robs them of a full breath and a full night’s sleep. He watched the two children, clutching to their weeping mother and then he looked down, unable to watch them.

He knows they’re permanently changed because of grief, and that has given him a purpose.

She had come to him in a dream as he lay with his head bandaged and pride wounded in a FEDRA camp; Sarah was gone and his botched self-inflicted wound hadn’t let him join her. The first time she visited him, it was just a feverish nightmare of teeth and rot, struggling ineffectively against a black abyss slowly pulling him under. This dream became a regular occurrence for months, waking him drenched in sweat with panting breaths, his eyes darting wildly around in the darkness.

It wasn’t until one still and quiet night as he slept on the forest floor, his head on his backpack and his gun gripped in his hand, that she finally showed Her face. Serene and chaotic, sublime and intolerable, She stood preternaturally still above him. The scent of Her wafted over him as he rubbed his eyes, attempting to shake off the clutch of sleep. She reeked of damp earth and decay. When She finally stirred, Her every minute movement seemed to echo in antiquity, sounding of trees in the distance being forced to bow and break from a hurricane. She smelled of damp earth and decay.

He forced himself fully awake before She was able to speak, and he refused to allow Her to ever get a word out to him. In a few blinks of his eyes She was gone.

She attempted to visit him more and more so he started drinking to relieve him of the hauntings. The alcohol helped for a while, but then Her gnarled bone hands pulled his unconscious mind open and began to let Her decayed flora seep in. But the pills… the pills are what finally stopped Her.

Nearly two decades of all of the pills and alcohol he could get his hands on kept Her out of his dreams and out of his head. There would be echoes with no origin and fleeting shadows telling him She was never far, but he remained out of reach. Internally, he blamed Her for plaguing his mind with Sarah’s last moments, reliving the moment on repeat, having to hear her begging and crying out to him as he held her for the last time. Some nights, he could still smell the gunpowder and blood that clung to his memories as he slipped into an inebriated slumber.

He blamed the terrible thing She was - the decayed abomination that haunted him - for making him relive the darkest moments of his life, plying himself with drink and drugs to keep Her away. And it worked; it worked for so long that any indication that She was around, Joel learned to dismiss as foundations settling or leaves blowing in the trees.

All of that changed when he lost Tess and gained Ellie. An uncanny switch in his partner, forcing him into a role he’d long since abandoned - father. Ellie held a mirror up to him, forcing him to see what he’d become and face what he was running from. The honest horrors of time and grief had etched and eroded him, and he saw shards of Her woven into the old man he was becoming, and gradually, he came around to Her.

Joel hadn’t touched a drink or drug since returning to Jackson with Ellie. They hadn’t found anything at the university beyond the evidence of the Fireflies having been there at one point, and with no indication of where they went they returned to Tommy’s new community.

Two years of sobriety had landed Joel with a clearer mind and a better temperament. She had stayed away as if to say you had your chance, and it was a bittersweet relief to him.

Until Tommy died.

He’d led a reconnaissance party out to secure the area surrounding the town, and Tommy’s horse got spooked, making a wrong step and falling off an embankment. While his grief swelled in him like a balloon, Joel took solace that he’d had two years with him before losing his brother again, and that at least Tommy’s death was quick. He knew he couldn’t fall apart like he had with Sarah, and that he had to be strong for Ellie, for Maria and Tommy’s child, and for the town. The funeral took place as soon as his body had returned to Jackson and that night, Joel laid in bed, staring at the ceiling.

His eyes were wide open and he was awake when Her sweet and putrid smell washed over him in a cold, dark mist. His grief allowed no room for further pain, so Joel found that he did not feel fear. He felt at peace.

The sounds that crawled out from Her gaping maw swirled around him and words formed from them in his mind.

My beloved child - you are returned. You are needed. Tragedy and renewal bind you to me. The sun has his moon and the moon has her sun. Life turns to death and death bores life. Decay gives way to rebirth.

He woke with a startled hacking cough to find his room lit by the pale morning sun shining weakly through his bedroom window. It took him a moment to get his bearings and remember where he was. It felt like only seconds before that She was speaking to him; he could still smell the rot that heralded Her, and once he calmed down, he was surprised that he felt comforted by it.

It was from there that the ravens began to hang round the front of his house on the fence and trees. When he sat on the front porch, they even dared to come right up and sit on the railing, quirking their heads as they made eye contact and small clucks at him.

The ravens carried on visiting him with a cautious curiosity for a few weeks until She visited him again in the night. He was wide awake during an intense spring storm that had knocked out the power. He was trying to light the storm lamp when he felt the air in the room grow stale and damp and the sounds the the winds outside faded into dulled white noise. The flame that he’d managed to light flickered and sank low, barely casting a light beyond a faint amber and his breathing echoed in his living room, and She moved from the shadows, and her terrible and beautiful voice crept out into the room.

My beloved child - grown in grief.

Joel looked at her, feeling his heartbeat slow and his mind quiet, and he nodded to Her. They watched one another as Joel tried to summon the courage to ask something - anything.

“Who are y-”. His words caught in his throat before he finished as the realization that he already knew Her and Her name. It was etched in his soul and echoed in his heart.

Hel. Goddess of death and guide to the underworld. Her name was one that should have struck terror into him from years of his Catholic grandmother forcing him and his brother to mass, and given the amount of death that he’d experienced and partaken in, part of his thought that fear should have come from seeing this as his reckoning. But instead, he felt peace in her terrible presence. He dropped to his knees and the start of tears burned his eyes. He felt the grief of everyone he had lost wash over him in waves, coming to the surface and gasping for air. Joel had spent so long trying to choke that grief and suffocate it where it sat in him, but on his knees before Her broke him wide open and gave air to the parts of his soul that he’d worked so hard to kill.

Joel woke up the next day and it was different. He moved through the day as he normally did, but inside he felt more assured of himself, feeling a peace he hadn’t known since before Sarah was born. There was a slight change in him, a light flickering in his eyes that others picked up on but said nothing about. That and the ravens.

No matter where Joel went, there was a raven nearby. If he stayed in place - at a town meeting or at home - the ravens would slowly settle one by one until their entire unkindness was perched on the trees and eaves, waiting for him to move again. Day by day, it became more apparent to the other residents of Jackson that Joel wasn’t the same; the silent and harsh somberness that had left them wary of interacting with him had turned to a quiet warmth that radiated from within.

At first, Joel thought this change in him was for the dead - or those that were making the transition. He sat with the sick and elderly in the medical clinic, ensuring they weren’t alone as they moved on, taking up the mantle of guide.

But it didn’t feel right. His heart would ache in the morning from the looks of those left behind by their loved one’s departure. Joel would watch as families and friends would be thrown into their mourning, and he’d feel the familiar sting in his throat. He would leave the clinic, chest ripped open and wound burning, and he’d be right back in the throws of his own loss. Sarah, Tess, Tommy… Sarah, Tess, Tommy… Sarah, Tess, Tommy… Sarah, Tess, Tommy… Sarah, Tess, Tommy… Sarah, Tess, Tommy…

But he would return, suffering for his perceived purpose, and repeat the cycle over and over again.

It wasn’t until one night as he sat next to Charles, the 80-something year old who’d fallen and broke his hip, that Joel finally made the connection.

“I mourn for what they will become…”, Charlie murmured softly, causing Joel to turn his head from counting the ravens through the window.

“Hmm? What’re you talkin’ about, Charlie?”

“My children. My Grandchildren. My friends… when I leave…”, he spoke wearily, then looked at Joel. “You know how grief changes people. Especially now. Look around. We shouldn’t mourn the dead, we should mourn who the living become because of it.”

Joel swallowed thickly. It was as though Charlie had set off a chain reaction in his head, connecting dots and seeing the truth of it. He looked into the old man’s eyes and saw Her there already, ready to guide him herself.

He is for the living. Again, that change in him seemed to glow brighter.

Charlie adjusted himself slowly in the bed and took in Joel with a crackled smile. “Ah. Now there’s a man with a purpose.”

The old man passed on as the pale morning crept over the mountains, and Joel wept by his side, thankful for the last bit of wisdom the old man gave.

Joel thinks back about his journey as he sees the last of the funeral procession pass his porch and he stands up, looking at the ravens. He gives them a curt nod and sighs, “Let’s go.”

He steps out onto the road and walks towards the home of the recently departed, ready and waiting to guide them through their grief so their own transition is peaceful.

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#frith challenge #perotovar's frith celebration #joel miller #joel miller fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #🥩

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veritasangel · 21 hours

Text

Golden Sanctity

Ft. John 'Soap' MacTavish

sum: if you asked anyone from 141 MC where their road captain so often disappeared to, they'd never guess the church.

warnings: sfw, fempov, mentions of church

a/n: this has not been proofread yet wc: 1.4k

Soap, Road Captain of 141 MC. The name carried weight from bar fights to street races and the infamously brutal manner in which the club's rules were enforced. Anyone who knew his name made it a point to get out of the way when he was around. It was as if there was a perpetual amount of danger etched within him.

The leather vest with the 141 patch an ever-present reminder of who he was and the world he survived in. Still, for weeks now, Soap had found himself chasing after something-or rather, someone-he had no business even looking at.

You.

The pretty church girl from the local town, a world separate from the chaos and violence that Soap was used to. You were the one thing he couldn't have, couldn't even think about having. Pure, untouched by the mess of the life he led. He had first seen you that Sunday morning, walking out of the church with a group of friends, laughing in that carefree way people who hadn't seen the darker side of life did.

Soap had been leaning against his bike, watching from across the street with a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. His usual bravado faltered for a second as he took you in-all innocence and light, the kind of person he didn't deserve to be near. He had no right to look, let alone want anything more, but something about you tugged at him-an impossible temptation.

Now, every time he rode into town, his eyes strayed to that place outside the church, his heart hoping to catch a glimpse of you. It was reckless, and he knew it.

You were the kind of girl whose family would despise everything he represented. They'd hate the ink crawling up his arms, the rough edges of his life, the bike roaring down the quiet streets.

And the 141? They'd never take it seriously, either. His brothers lived for the rush, the freedom of the club—they wouldn't understand his obsession with a girl so far removed from their world.

Yet, he couldn’t stay away.

He had no business being outside the church late at night, waiting for you like he often did. He was a man of danger, living a life full of chaos and recklessness that clashed sharply with everything you stood for. Yet, despite the rules, the lines, and the stark differences between your worlds, there he was-again.

That first night you spoke, where he found you in quiet repose on the church steps, lost in thought. You hadn't screamed or ran, even when you knew who he was. Instead, you'd stayed. He'd started talking and you listened.

He used to call it "confessing," his face a mock-serious mask, and the things he said to you were anything but sacred. Soap didn't talk about prayers and salvation; he talked about his life-fights and rides, the messes he'd gotten himself into. It was as if he tried at times to freak you out, telling stories of the darkness he lived in, testing to see if you'll finally tell him to leave.

But you never did, and so Soap kept coming back.

Tonight, he was waiting by a bench near the church, the moonlight casting a silver glow over the empty streets. His bike was parked a little ways down, the low hum of the engine long gone as he watched the flicker of light from inside the church.

His eyes scanned the surroundings-a place that represented peace and purity, everything he was not. And yet, this place had bound itself to you, and that alone was enough for him to continue appearing.

You emerged from the side door, the soft creak of the wood in the still night air. He saw you there in that soft, flowing dress, looking as innocent as ever, and Soap's heart thumped in a way he didn't want to admit.

You looked at him with a half-smile, something warm but cautious-like you still didn't quite know what to make of him. And maybe you didn't. Maybe you shouldn't.

"Johnny," you said softly, your words a cool balm to the riot in his mind.

"Lass," he returned, that smirk so damn familiar tugging at his lips. "You've been waitin' on me?"

"I was finishing up some work for the church. Didn't expect to see you again this week."

He let out a low chuckle, scratching the back of his neck, "Cannae stay away, can I? Thought I'd drop by and confess my sins again," he teased, his eyes softening as they caught yours.

You rolled your eyes, though a slight tugging at the corner of your lips insisted on a small smile. "And what sins are you bringing to the table tonight?"

Soap grinned, pretending to ponder, "Ah, the usual. Too many fights, too many bad decisions, and of course… thinking 'bout you more than I should.".

That caught you off guard, making you pause, your eyes widening, but you didn't back away. You never did. It was one of those things that had kept him coming back, the way that you didn't flinch from him, didn't see him as a monster, even when that's how he felt most of the time.

“Johnny, we've talked about this,” you said calmly, your tone firm. “We are different, too different. You know this.”

Soap exhaled slowly, his smirk faltering for a moment. He got up, moved closer, but kept a respectful distance, knowing just how innocent you were-how untouched by the world he was so deeply entrenched in.

"I know, lass. Believe me, I know. But that doesnae stop me from wantin' ya. Or from thinkin' about how much I'd give to be close to you."

Your gaze softened. You cared about him; he knew that. You were scared, though-scared of what it could mean for you, for your family, for anything that was important to you to give yourself to someone like him.

"You don't belong in my world," you whispered, almost as though trying to convince yourself as much as him. "My family. they'd hate you. The things that you're involved in-they'd never understand."

He nodded, the weight of your words hanging heavy between you. "Aye, I know they would. And I don't blame 'em. Hell, sometimes I hate the things I do, too. But you… " His voice trailed off, falling into something softer, something almost fragile. "You make me want to be better.

You had looked at him then, really looked at him, as if seeing past the rough exterior, past the leather and tattoos. Just a moment, you and him alone, in the silent darkness, worlds apart yet somehow held together.

“I don't know if I can be what you need, Johnny," you said in the tiniest voice. Again, you doubted that your words could be meant, "I'm not from your world, and you need someone who is able to handle that lifestyle.”

Soap exhaled sharply and moved in closer, his hand grazing lightly against your arm. "Maybe what I need isn't anyone who can handle my world; maybe it's someone like you to pull me out of it."

Your heart fluttered at his words, but even then, such a decision weighed heavily upon your mind. This man-this dangerous, wild man-wanted you in a way that thrilled and terrified you. He was everything your family had warned you about, everything you'd always been told to stay away from. But he was more than that, too. There was a softness in him that no one else ever saw, a side of him that he only showed when it was just the two of you.

Soap watched the fight in your eyes diminish a little, his face softening. "I won't push, lass. Not for more than you're ready to give. But I'll stick around, as long as you'll let me.".

You looked down, your fingers tentatively grazing his, before glancing back up at him with a small tentative smile. "Just talking?" you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

"Just talking," Soap agreed, his smile relaxing as he settled back against the wall, happy to stand beside you in the night's quiet. And for that moment, it was enough.

༄ MC 141 m.list // general m.list

#cod #john soap mactavish #cod mwii #john mactavish x reader #cod mw2 #cod drabble #soap x reader #cod x you #cod x reader #cod imagine #call of duty #call of duty fluff #tf 141 #cod fluff #soap drabble #soap fluff #soap cod #john mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader

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triangle-dog · 1 day

Text

TW pet death

(Not one of mine, don't worry. You won't miss anything if you skip this post.)

I will always and forever be a collar and tags person (or, look, if you are really concerned about strangulation then a harness & tags person or a breakaway collar or whatever). Microchips are great, all my beasts are microchiped, but if one of them gets out I want to be able to find them and bring them home no matter what has happened to them.

Two years ago, almost exactly I think, friends and I were three miles into a beautiful autumn hike with the dogs. The leaves were turning, the wildlife was active, and there was a crisp breeze. We rounded a corner and immediately saw a body floating out on the lake, a dog, its long black fur drifting back and forth in the small waves. After some deliberation on what to do, and if it was safe, I waded out to the dog while the others in the party held our dogs way back from the lake in case the water was bad. He wasn't that far out really, but it felt like it took forever to get there because I was fervently hoping he'd have tags. I could actually feel the relief wash over me when I got there and saw patches of blue collar peeking out between the drifting fur.

I towed him into the shallows by the collar. I'm the most familiar with bodies, which is why I was the one who went out to him, and I know that they age differently in the water but by my judgment he'd died farily recently - less than a day ago. When he's in close enough to shore that I don't think he'll drift away any time soon, I unclip his collar and return to the group. We sit down and strategize for a few minutes. How do you make a call like that without raising their hopes? (Answer: you can't - just the phone ringing will be enough).

"I'm very sorry," I say, "but I found a dog in the lake and I thought you would want to know." She tells me she was half expecting a call like this, that the gate didn't latch correctly and both dogs got out but only one came home. She tells me that they were so worried he wouldn't be able to find his way home in the storm last night. She tells me he was very old, that his mind had been going for awhile now. She tells me that most of his life, until the last few years as his body became less able to manage the walk, they would come down to a beach near here and that he loved to swim. She tells me she hopes he at least got to relive those memories for a bit before he went.

I give her the coordinates, it's not too far from a road if you bushwhack - certainly less than the 3mi we did, and tell her we'll bring him to shore. I pick him up out of the shallows, he feels frail, yet he's so so heavy from the weight of the water in his fur. He's much smaller than Nova, yet lifting Nova has never felt like that. I lay him gently on the rocky beach in what I hope is a natural looking, less-traumatizing-to-the-kids position. I clip his collar back on, with the fur no longer drifting around in the water obscuring it, you can now see the little tag saying "Poochie" on the front. We head back the way we came. That was walk enough for all of us, it would feel wrong to seek a different ending, and it was an out and back trail anyway.

Ever since then, every dead cat or dog I see reminds me of those lakeside discussions. We are all overly dedicated animal people, we're fully aware of microchips and all of our own pets are microchiped, but carrying a waterlogged body 3mi to the car to drive it to the vet's office was just not feasible - I don't think it would occur to most people that that was even an option. Even if they did think of it, most people would be opposed to putting a dead animal in their vehicle. I'm just gonna make it easy on people and put my phone number on my animals.

(Sorry, that post was so much longer than it needed to be, but my brain must have recorded that experience in a different kind of memory than usual because it is so so clear and comes all as a set like that so that's what you got too)

TLDR: OP found a dead dog once and has big feelings about it. Put collars/etc. on your pets

#cw animal death #cw pet death #cw drowning #I speak

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ghouldump · 1 day

Text

To Be Loved | Armand x Reader

ෆ idolized and worshipped by your coven members, alive but not living, things quickly change for you when you move to Paris, and meet your soulmate.

requested via private messages, this was so cute, no manipulative gremlin armand.

What is Love? A feeling of deep admiration or likeness? Patience, kindness, unconditional forgiveness? It was hard to tell. The emotion had become so distant from you, a faint memory from half of a millennial ago. Love required trust, and you couldn't bring yourself to trust another.

“My lord, the sun has departed for the night,” Demetrius said, making you look up from your lap. Everyone kneeled before you, their heads down.

“You may go and hunt,” you dismissed them, closing your eyes. You could feel their stares lingering, hesitating, as they stood up, leaving you alone in the dungeon.

“How long will you starve yourself? At least feed on the rodents, you look like death,” hearing her voice, feeling her closeness, but refusing to face her, to acknowledge the concerned expression.

“Good, then I’m one step closer to dying for good,” you sighed.

“Y/n, don't be stupid, go drink, it is an order from your maker,” she ordered, making you open your eyes.

“Leave me,” you screamed, facing her, but she was gone.

Cassia, the reason you were here today, the last person you trusted. You were from a wealthy family, and your father, and his father, both swordsmiths, valued, oftentimes working alongside kings and their soldiers.

While he was never home, your mother was too immersed in raising your younger siblings to focus on you, nevertheless, you were loved. On birthdays and traditional holidays, you'd receive amazing gifts of all kinds, praised and advised on everything, you couldn't have asked for a better life. It wasn't until the mysterious young woman, Cassia moved close by, that your life changed.

You had been out later than usual, on your way home from a friend’s house, when you saw her. She stood outside of her house, reaching for the apples on the tree.

“Hey, could you lend me a hand, I can't reach these,” she called out, stopping you, just as you passed her short fence.

“I really need to get home,” you said, apologetically.

“It will only take a moment, please, come,” she said, watching as you awkwardly entered the gate. You didn't understand how she thought you could help when there wasn't a big difference in your height.

Jumping a few times, you managed to knock the apples out of the tree. Picking them up, you placed them in her basket, turning to leave, but she stopped you.

“Bring them in,” she told you, already walking into the house. Glancing down the road at your house, you picked up the basket, and you entered the home. It was much brighter than outside with all of the candles, neatly arranged.

“You can sit them on the table,” she said, turning to face you. Your eyes widened for a moment, she was one the most beautiful woman you had ever seen. Her skin was perfect, smooth with a few small moles, full lips, doll eyes, and glossy soft hair.

“Thank you,” she told you.

“You're welcome,” you said, turning to leave.

“How old are you? I heard your family a few weeks back, celebrating a birthday,” she said.

“Eighteen”

“And you aren't betrothed?” she asked, as she moved closer.

“No, my father will begin looking for arrangements later this year,” you explained.

“Good, whoever has you, will be lucky, you have a heart of gold,” she said, her hand going to your cheek. She was moving closer, making you uncomfortable, an eerie grin on her lips.

“Go, it is getting late, but come back tomorrow night,” she continued.

There was something intriguingly bizarre about the woman because despite how weird she seemed, the next night you found yourself, fidgeting with your fingers, in front of her door, contemplating if you wanted to knock. Just as you raised your hand, the door opened.

“Come in,” she smiled, moving out of the way.

“I don't believe I got your name, yesterday night,” she continued.

“Y/n,” you held out your hand.

“Cassia,” she raised an eyebrow, taking your hand into her own.

Awkwardly staring at your hands, while she gazed at you, she continued caressing her thumb against your skin. Clearing your throat, you took your hand away.

“What did you need?”

“I have a gift, for your generosity,” she said.

“No need, it was nothing-

“I insist, please, sit,” she pointed to the table. Gulping, you went to sit down, something peculiar about her tone sent a chill down your spine.

“I hope you like apples, I made pastries, it has been a long time since I’ve made anything like these, but I know they are delicious,” she smiled, setting the tray in front of you. The slice of fresh apple pie, along with cookies.

“Thank you, this really was unnecessary,” you shook your head, breaking a piece of the cookie.

“You were the first and only to help me, it is obvious that you have been chosen,” she told you, watching as you ate the cookie.

“Do you like it?” she asked, smirking as you nodded. Chewing, you began to cough a little, repeatedly clearing your throat, and staring into the cookie. Standing up, you made your way to the door, stumbling, Cassia slowly behind you, catching you, as you fell unconscious.

Waking up, you struggled to move, opening your eyes, confused to see Cassia, straddling your lap, placing a variety of ointments and oils onto your body.

“W-what is going on?”

“I am preparing your body for your death,” she told you before she started humming.

“My what? Release me,” you wiggled, stopping as her hand went to your throat.

“You have been chosen, do not ruin this,” she snapped.

“Cassia, please, what are you talking about?”

“Those who must be kept were cursed, damned to eternity on earth, and to live off of blood, but the creator showed them mercy, bestowing soulmates. A companionship stronger than any other, the perfect partner, meant only for those with the dark gift. My soulmate, Elias, was weak, he chose the sun, he chose death over me. I’ve prayed and prayed, and I asked for another soulmate, and you have come along, helping me and I have to turn you to ensure we have each other forever,” she said, your eyes widened in fear, shaking your head.

“You're mistaken-

“I haven't been more certain,” she told you, her fingers brushing over your lips before she bared her fangs.

“To us, and an eternity of our love,” she said, sinking her fangs into your neck draining the life from out of you.

Turning you, within a single night, you had lost everything. Your family, friends, life, everyone sensed how different you became. How you suddenly left home and would only be seen with the strange woman. The same exterior, but a different entity possessing the body they once knew. The new social discrimination you experienced didn't help, being shunned for your not-so-obvious relationship with Cassia.

She was a lonely soul and out of your kindness, she convinced herself you were her second chance at love. She would later explain how it felt when you would come across your soulmate. How you would love them no matter who they were, their shade, or where they were from. She didn't realize it until turning you, but she had been wrong, there was no second chance. She would've let you go, to find your way with the dark gift, but she couldn't.

After the side effects wore off, the way you looked at her, your maker, brought butterflies. She knew it was only the gift, bringing on the newfound lust, but she gave in anyway. It was nothing more than sex for you but after centuries of celibacy, it felt like lovemaking to Cassia. On the living room floor, until morning came, then reality came down on you. Pulling away, a hint of disgust in your eyes, she knew then. Running outside, you only made it past her fence, before you fell to your knees, screaming in agony.

“Cassia,” you cried out, confused why this was happening.

Wearing a cloak, she grabbed a blanket and rushed out to save you, carrying you back into the house. From that point, even if you weren't hers, she loved you and felt a need to take care of you. After a few decades together, you eventually accepted her, but she knew it was only a matter of time before you came across your soulmate. That is why, a century into your companionship, she finally surrendered to the sun, leaving everything to you.

The last person to love you had left you alone. Her wealth and dark gifts, she passed, but you were utterly alone. You became a vagabond, you had no one to keep you settled in one place. You attempted to surrender a few times, but Cassia’s spirit wouldn't seem to leave you alone, talking you out of it every time. You formed a bitterness towards her, she claimed to love you, yet she brought you into this lonesome life, just to leave you.

Eventually, you found yourself in Rome, Cassia’s homeland. She and her soulmate were both turned and met here. You acted as if you hated her, but found yourself in the very place she was born. Buying a large home in the countryside, you were satisfied with the large dungeon in the home.

Not long went by, before your encounter with the local vampires. They came to you on a night you stood near a cliff, trying to pray. You had been trying for so long, you didnt have an end solution. For God to make your life less lonely, to bring your soulmate, to help you finally end your life, you were sure he wasn't listening, but it helped pass the time.

As they surrounded you, you didn't bother facing them, maybe they could kill you, but then Cassia came, telling you to show them your power. You had inherited all of the gifts and were much older than them. Begrudgingly, you turned to them, flying above them, watching as they quickly submitted to you. Then, one of them pointed out that you were praying, perhaps you were their saint, a mediator for the damned to god himself.

You denied their claims, but they didn't listen, asking to reside with you, which was the beginning of your coven. Eight young vampires, you grew closest to Demetrius, Jonah, and Marianne. Three centuries came and went and they all remained devout. Even though, for the last few years, you would be off and on starving yourself for weeks at a time.

“My lord?”

“Yes, Demetrius?” you answered, slowly turning to look at him. On his knees, his head bowed, he held a box.

“For you, you shouldn't starve yourself like this,” he said, as you took the box, surprised to see the trapped rats inside.

“Thank you,” you said, grabbing one of the rodents, and biting into it.

“The others are too afraid to mention this, and asked me to bring it up with you,” he said, nervously.

“Well, out with it,” you told him.

“We want to leave Rome, a few locals have gotten suspicious, and the talk has made its way to the city. We could easily kill them, but it would cause too much attention, so we think it is best to leave,” he said.

“Stand up,” you told him. You found it so bothersome having all of them bowing and crawling at your feet.

“The others are aware that they are able to leave this coven, I will not stop any of you,” you told him, as he stood in front of you.

“Yes, but we want you to come, Marianne thinks we will be safe in Paris, but we want you to join us,” he said.

“Go with them, Rome no longer serves you any purpose, you only await death here,” Cassia told you, as you stared at Demetrius.

“How soon did everyone expect to leave?”

“As soon as possible”

“Then we will leave for Paris, and you all can come out from hiding,” you said, watching as your coven members slowly revealed themselves.

“Thank heavens, there is one more thing, Demetrius hasn't told you, my lord,” Jonah said, making you face him.

“And what is that?”

“We have hopes of blending in with society”

“Very well-

“I think they mean everyone”

“I mean everyone, and with the utmost respect, you will also have to adjust, or you will look out of place, Marianne can take care of your wardrobe,” he said nervously, glancing at her.

“Tell them yes,” Cassia said excitedly.

“If these are the plans, you all will need to prepare, as soon as possible,” you said, watching as everyone’s faces lit up, dropping to their knees, they worshipped you.

“This is good, you need the change, you can finally take steps towards living your life,” Cassia told you, as you lowered your head.

Hopefully. How long would your life continue like this? The vain worship, as if you were their god. You couldn't remember the last time someone looked into your eyes and saw you as an equal. Maybe Paris could change the agonizing lifestyle you felt trapped in.

“I hope I haven't overdone myself, my lord,” Marianne said, her head down, following you into the large castle-style home.

“It is perfect, I can't remember the last time I saw coffins this nice,” Cassia clapped, walking next to you.

“You have done well, everything is pleasant,” you told her, patting her head as she thanked you profusely.

“Amazing, we have our own coffins?” Alexander, one of the younger, newer members of the coven exclaimed. He was also Marianne’s soulmate.

“Yes, I apologize for my negligence as a coven leader over the years, in the dungeon, I felt no need for coffins, being that it was dark, but coffins are much more comfortable than the cold floor,” you told him, you didn't realize until after speaking, everyone stared at you with such admiration in their eyes.

“We chose you as our leader, and we accept any conditions, as long we can stay with you, although we are very thankful for the upgrade,” Jonah told you, everyone agreeing.

“Enough of the praise, there are still a few hours left in the night, go hunt, and travel together, until you are familiar with your surroundings,” you waved them off.

“You're not coming?”

“Perhaps another time, go on,” you told them, turning away, and going to your room.

It had only been a few hours since arriving in Paris, at the large house. Demetrius took care of finding the place, while Marianne furnished it, before your arrival. You couldn't lie, you felt uncomfortable, your usually unruly appearance had been completely changed, replaced by fitted trousers and a soft turtleneck.

You refused to be walking around in the strange dresses of the age and preferred androgynous pieces of clothing.

“Will you hunt tomorrow?”

“Cassia, why is it that even in death, you force yourself into my life, I am not yours,” you told her sternly.

“You are my fledgling, my blood flows within you, I can not leave you to die, not when you have so much potential and when you haven't given yourself a chance to find your soulmate, even in death, I love you more than myself”

“Then why did you leave? All you wanted was for me to love you, and when I did, you left,” you faced her, pointing accusingly.

“I made a mistake turning you, out of my own selfishness you were created. I couldn't keep you, and deny you the vampire meant to be yours. You can hate me, but I knew what was best, and trust me when I say, that coming to Paris was for the best, what’s yours is soon to come, sooner than you think,” she said, vanishing.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and Cassia never spoke to you. It was refreshing, not having her in your ear. Other than the praise and worship, Paris seemed like the change you needed. No one encountered any other vampires, and they all were beginning to blend, amongst the mortals, as they originally wanted.

“My lord, please help,” Marianne burst into your room. You were levitating, attempting to pray, but opened your eyes.

“What is it?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows at the blood smeared all over her face.

“Alexander is in trouble; he wandered off while we were hunting and came across a few other vampires, they followed him here and they're much stronger than the others, please do something,” she said, her voice filled with urgency. Nodding, you let your feet touch the ground, before following her.

Just as the door opened, you could see the vampires surrounding your coven, taunting them. Lifting from the ground, with only a flick of your finger, fire sparked around them, making them confusing look around looking up at you.

“Get away from them,” you warned them.

“You and your coven are in claimed territory, you’ve been here for months and haven't made your presence known,” one of the vampires spoke, his back had been turned to you the entire time.

“Careful,” Cassia spoke, you looked over at her. This was the first time seeing her in over seven months.

“I do not answer to other vampires,” you told him, going back to the ground, as he began to turn around.

Fire appeared in his hand, making you do the same, and just as he faced you, both of you froze. His eyes widened, while you shook your head in disbelief. Your heart was racing, goosebumps on your skin, as you stared at this beautiful creature. Your heart was reaching out to him, yearning to be loved and cherished by him, he was your soulmate.

“Enough, let them go,” he spoke to his coven, making them look at him confused.

“We can't just-

“Enough,” he raised his voice, and immediately they stopped, moving away.

Your coven slowly came to you, each of them bowing their heads at you. Alexander looking the most apologetic.

“I am sorry, my lord,” he started.

“You have done nothing wrong,” you reassured him.

“I am Armand, What is your name?” the man spoke, making your eyes shift back to him. As much as you knew for sure he was your soulmate, you refused to give in. To be used for his personal pleasures, like Cassia.

“That is none of your concern,” you said, and immediately he was in front of you. His eyes softened, reaching for your hand, but you took it away.

“You are my soulmate,” he started.

“And if I wasn't, what would have happened? You threatened my coven and me, I am quick to forgive, try again another time,” you spat, turning away, your coven following.

“You're just letting them leave,” Santiago asked, frowning.

“Yes, for now, we must go, the sun will be out soon,” he said, walking toward their bikes.

“Why would you deny him, deny yourself love?” Cassia asked.

“The sun will be out within the next hour,” you announced.

“You would rather be alone, and sulk until you die”

“Stop talking,” you muttered.

“You have followed in my footsteps with your selfishness”

“Cassia shut up,” you yelled, as your coven members shared looks of concern, seeing you yell at what seemed to be nothing.

“Everyone to your coffins,” you said, clearing your throat and going to your room.

“It is not my intention to hurt you, my love, but I don't want you to do this to yourself. If you could have seen from another perspective how he looked at you, he didn't want to harm you, if he comes back, give him a chance, please, for the both of us,” she told you, holding your cheek, before disappearing.

Going to your coffin, you blocked everyone out as they talked among themselves. Whispering questions, and ideas. As the sun came up, you fell asleep easily, all of them leaving your mind as you gave in to the well-needed rest.

Just as the moon covered the sky, you opened your eyes at the sound of a knock on the front door. Getting out of your coffin, you began to leave the room. You could see Demetrius at the door, it was only cracked, but you knew who stood on the other side.

“If I may speak with your leader”

“I don't think that is a-

“It is okay, Demetrius,” you told him, watching as he bowed, opening the door more to reveal him, holding a bouquet of roses.

“Are you sure?”

“I am, thank you,” you said.

“Good boy,” the youthful man said, tauntingly, while Demetrius slowly walked away, growling at him, as he disappeared into his room, as you approached the door.

“Is there something I can help you with?” you asked.

“You told me to try again another time, these are for you,” he said, holding out the flowers for you to take.

“I didn't think you would come so soon,” you said, making them fly across the room, landing on the nearby table.

“You are my soulmate, I couldn't go another moment knowing you are out there, away from me. I apologize for my coven and my behavior, we have been aware of your people for some time now, waiting for any of you to reveal yourselves,” he said.

“I too am at fault, I sensed the presence of another older vampire, but I didn't realize you would be so close,” you admitted, you couldn't decide if it felt odd or refreshing, as he stared into your eyes, nodding after each word that came from your mouth.

“Fate has a way of working, come with me, somewhere more private,” he said, holding out his hand. Hesitantly, you accepted his hand, exiting the house. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he lifted from the ground, flying through the sky.

He didn't stop until he was at the famous art museum, freezing security, slowly lowering to the ground. As your cold feet touched the floor, his hand went from your waist to your hand, leading you up the stairs.

“Your coven, they worship you as if you are their god, Y/n, it took a lot of digging to find out your name,” he started.

“They have convinced themselves I am some sort of saint for the damned, I have denied the title, but now I think they have simply chosen to be loyal to me,” you shrugged.

“And your faithful servant, Demetrius?” he asked in a tone you didn't like.

“What about him?”

“He is only your devout worshipper? He seemed to care-

“He is loyal, but if we had anything going on, it wouldn't be any of your business-

“Y/n, don't act like that,” Cassia appeared.

“Would you be quiet,” you started, but froze, realizing you spoke to her, in front of Armand.

“Are you…alright, darling?” he asked, glancing at you.

“My maker insists on haunting me, to make up for her mistakes,” you confessed.

“Her mistakes….”

“She thought I could potentially be her soulmate, so she turned me, but when she realized I would eventually meet my soulmate, she went into the sun,” you said, as you focused on the artwork along the walls.

“I’m sorry”

“Centuries, I have been alone, honored but unknown to my coven, it was her, who had convinced me to come to Paris”

“Then I should be thanking her, for bringing you to me,” he smiled, keeping his eyes straight ahead.

“Armand, I can’t be with you, I hardly know you-

“You and I, we are more alike than you think, untrusting, hurt, a wall built around us, in hopes of protecting what was once wounded. I’m not asking for you to jump out of your comfort zone, but rather, I’d like to invite you to visit my theatre. You have to get to know someone to decide if they are worthy of being trusted,” he said, making you glance over at him.

This beautiful man, your soulmate, the deepest parts of your soul pleaded to give into his words. Fall into his embrace and exchange your love, but the emotional scars held you back.

Clearing your throat, you walked away from him, towards the next piece of art. “I’ll think about it,” you said, hearing his small chuckle, before he followed behind you.

“Where did you reside, before coming to Paris?” He asked, making you slightly frown.

“Why?”

“I’m only curious to know more about you, your background, how did a woman as beautiful as you, become a coven leader, with such powerful gifts,” he said.

“I could say the same, you look very young, how old were you?” you asked him.

“Ladies first,” he smirked. Looking into his eyes with a straight face, you searched for deception, any reason to not trust him, but you could find none. His body language was completely defenseless and open to you. Sighing, you opened your mouth, starting from the beginning, you shared your story with him.

From the windows, you could feel the eyes of your coven members. Lowering to the ground, with Armand, you held on comfortably, as the two of you continued talking.

The coven couldn’t deny how different you already seemed. This was the most they’d ever seen you speak, occasionally laughing at whatever the man had said. The sun would be out in less than an hour and here you stood out in the open, with the mysterious man.

“You should go, the sun will be out soon, and my coven, they are watching us”

“Intensely,” he agreed, making you snicker.

“You look so beautiful when you smile,” he continued, watching as you bit down on your lip.

“I have to go,” you said. Turning to leave, he reached for your hand, stopping you. Pulling the card from his pocket, he slipped it into your fingers.

“Come to the theatre, you and your coven,” he smiled.

“Sleep well, Armand,” you told him, walking away. You could feel the wind blow, as he flew into the sky.

Entering the house, your mood changed, seeing your coven shift their eyes from you. You knew it was out of respect, but you saw them as equals, and this was growing tiring.

“If any of you are up for it, we have been invited to Théâtre des Vampires, I’ll be going tomorrow,” you told them.

“And if you expect to blend in, then there will be no bowing or titles, we are going to enjoy ourselves, save your worship,” you said, turning to go upstairs.

“My lord,” you heard, as you were about to enter your bedroom.

“Yes,” you turned, facing Marianne.

“He’s your soulmate, isn't he?” she asked, a small smile, on her face.

“I’m afraid so,” you said lowly.

“Give him a chance, you deserve to be adorned with love and kisses. Just looking at him, I’m sure your heart flutters tremendously,” she said.

“Is that how you feel about Alexander?”

“From the moment I looked into his eyes, I fell in love, and it hasn't faltered since then, please, you deserve this,” she said, for the first time, meeting your eyes differently. Not as a devout worshipper, but a friend.

“Get some rest, Marianne,” you smiled at her, turning to leave her, going into your room.

“She’s right, you know,” Cassia spoke, as soon as the door shut.

“I thought you were done for the night,” you told her, as you removed your clothing, changing into your pajamas.

“I will be leaving you soon,” she smiled, looking down at her hands, two wedding rings decorated her finger.

“Giving me another break?”

“For good,” she said, as you snapped your head her way.

“What do you mean?”

“You have found your soulmate, you may not see it now, but Armand is persistent, and he loves hard. You will give in to his love, and finally, this void within you will be filled. Meaning, my work is done,” she smiled, a bloody tear dropping from her eye.

“Where will you go?”

“I am damned, so I would assume hell, not that it matters,” she laughed, bitterly.

“You don't have to do that, you can stay-

You began to protest, coming up with possibilities, while she stood, shaking her head. Approaching you, you began to cry quietly. You held a resentment towards her, yet you couldn't deny how much she meant to you, at this moment.

“You don't have to go,” you whispered.

“I may be damned, but I’ve done well with you, my greatest creation, my love, my angel — you make the dark gift shine beautifully in the night. You will always be the best thing that happened to me. All I ask is that you live, and continue to flourish, no matter what. No more dungeons, starving yourself, isolating from the world, do you understand?” she asked, smiling sadly, as you nodded.

“Yes,” you managed to speak.

“As much as I’d love to savor your lips, I will save them for your soulmate. Even when I’m not here anymore, I will live on through you. My blood flows in you, leaving a small piece of me with you, for an eternity. Goodbye, my sweet y/n,” she said, slowly fading. As she completely disappeared, you noticed the teardrop blood stain, right where she stood. Proof that she hadn't been part of your imagination, but actually with you, throughout the years.

Opening your coffin, your mind shifted between Armand and Cassia. Love. You still didn't what it was, but perhaps he could be the one to show you — with Cassia gone, what did you truly have to lose?

“We're trying to assimilate and these pricks are blatantly doing this, acting like it's a play,” you could hear Demetrius grumble, as you all sat, attempting to watch the play. The play that you all quickly realized, was one, terrible, and two, their way of killing humans in front of other humans.

“Exactly, but these mortals are just as pathetic because they find it scary,” Jonah laughed, as the curtain closed. The young girl could still be heard screaming, her voice growing faint.

“I see him,” Marianne bumped your shoulder, making you look over. He sat in a booth, facing you, and as soon as you met his eyes, he smiled. You almost returned the gesture, but instead, you kept a straight face, making his face falter for a moment.

Turning back towards the stage, you listened to Jonah, Demetrius, and Alexander go on about how terrible the play was, going as far as making jokes about the actors. You could feel his gaze, but you ignored it, watching as humans began to leave the theater.

“That was almost two hours of my life wasted,” Alexander whined to Marianne.

“Look who decided to show his face,” the familiar man spat, standing in front of you all, his eyes on Alexander.

“He doesn't want any problems with you,” you told him, as his eyes sharply shifted to you.

“Their dear coven leader, you have all of them afraid of you, but perhaps it's because you haven't met your equal, or someone stronger,” he hissed at you, as you stood up.

“Is that supposed to be you?” you tilted your head, fire sparking from your fingers.

“Enough, Santiago,” Armand spoke up. The man rolled his eyes, but obeyed his orders, backing away from you. The action seemed to catch the attention of all of his coven members, as they stopped what they were doing to watch the scene unfold.

“Y/n is my soulmate, disrespect to her is disrespect to me, and it will not be tolerated. Do I make myself clear?” he raised his voice, and many of the members nodded in agreement. Santiago remained quiet when Armand grabbed him, choking him.

“Do you understand, Santiago?” he asked him, watching him struggle to nod, muttering an embarrassed, “Yes”.

“Good,” he shoved him away, his eyes moving to you.

“Come,” he held out his hand to you, watching as you slowly accepted it.

Looking down at your hands, his fingers intertwined with your own, you looked back at your coven. They smiled excitedly, Jonah giving you a thumbs up.

“I was surprised you came, what did you think of the play?”

“It was awful, but in a good way, I guess. I enjoyed the ending,” you said, laughing at his surprised expression.

“At least you're honest,” he sighed, his thumb brushing against your hand.

“I thought of you throughout the night, I hoped that you would show up,” he admitted, as he led you in the direction of the park.

“Yeah”

“All I wanted was to see your beautiful face again or smell your scent. I’ve never met any-

“Armand, this is difficult for me. I haven't experienced this kind of passion, for over half of my vampiric life. I didn't know how to love, or what it even means to,” you told him, but he only shook his head.

“Do you feel the same way, when you look at me? As if time stops, the compelling force to do or be anything your soulmate wants, as long as they will have you. The elation of just looking at your soulmate, because they look nothing but perfect in your eyes, do you feel this way too?” he asked, relief when you hesitantly nodded.

Pulling you closer, his eyes shifted from your lips to your eyes. He seemed a bit hesitant, making you think of Cassia and Marianne. Their words replayed in your mind, you thought of the same saying from the previous night, what did you truly have to lose?

Standing on your toes, your lips pressed against his own, immediately, his arms were around your waist. Moaning into the kiss, you could feel the almost static connection between the two of you, just as your skin touched for a kiss.

“I-I want this, but I’m not ready,” you told him, feeling guilty, as you pulled away.

“There is no rush, as long as you remain close, we can take as much time as you need,” he said, holding your hand, and placing a kiss on it.

“And our covens?”

“They will learn to coexist, or they are free to leave,” he shrugged.

“I think we should get back, and maybe share this information with them,” you said.

“Anything you say,” Amrnand said, holding your hand, as he led you back to the theatre.

On your back way, you passed through the market, a young girl catching for attention. She stood next to a tent, holding a sign, in front of a crate of apples.

“Would you like an apple, mademoiselle?” she asked, reminding you of Cassia.

“I-no thank you,” you smiled, before looked back at you in confusion.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yes, we should hurry back,” you said to him, as he continued walking, pulling you close, leading you back the the theatre.

An eternity, you had an eternity with your soulmate. You could see now, that you would enjoy his company, he was protective, considerate, and kind. An eternity of being with Armand, perhaps then you would could finally begin to learn what it meant, to be loved.

i had to end it here bc y'all know i would go on and on 😂

#interview with the vampire #armand x reader #amc iwtv #amc armand #armand the vampire

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liyatime · 1 day

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“ spread your legs ” . . | ˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚ (enjoy!)

📷 pairing ; mark lee x tm!reader

📷 genre ; smut

📷 cw ; male x transmale/cuntboy intercourse , cursing , kissing , cunnilingus , fingering , c in v sex , vaginal descriptions , raw sex (wrap it before you tap it!)

mark lee , one of the smartest kids on your college campus not only happened to be a top student but he was also your boyfriend of a strong 3 years.

he spoils you so much you dont even know it like buying your lunches for you , paying for your dorm rent , and all around spending a ton of money on you. mark also spoils you by taking you on car rides , he drives you multiple places without asking for gas money and often takes you on trips , like today. he called you out to the parking lot during a fairly busy day saying that he wanted to eat out with you.

you walked out the college building with your tote bag on your shoulder that was filled to the brim with books and your laptop. you were on your phone looking for places nearby to eat at when you looked up and saw mark’s navy blue hooded convertible and him waving at you.

you did a light jog towards his car and leaned onto it giving him a peck on the lips. “i didn’t bother you? calling you out of class like this?” he asked unlocking the car. you walked around to the passenger side and got in , “not at all , i’d tell you if it was a problem. honestly i’m kinda glad i got out of there.” you said smiling. he smiled back and started up the car , “i found a place already, it’s not far from here.” mark said , backing up his car and getting on the road.

on the way to the place mark picked out you guys joked around and laughed , talked about school stuff (which was honestly kind of boring) and listened to music. both your music tastes were diverse but you guys enjoyed critiquing each others choices. you guys also looked at the menu of the place and decided ahead of time what you guys should order , most of the options looked delicious but what matters is how it tasted , mark's the only person who's been here before so he told you to wait and that it'd be a surprise.

the both of you soon arrived at a restaurant-type establishment , with the awkward name of it that you couldn't pronounce it must've been french or italian or something.. but before you could step out of the car mark grabbed your hand and locked the doors , "hold on.. i gotta tell you something," he paused and put his fist over his mouth before trying to explain "— i actually brought you here for something else." he said with nervousness in his voice , "you know we haven't been able to like.. do it because were busy , so i brought you to this uh.. place , because if we did it on the college campus a lot of people would find out and i really wanted to try car sex and i didnt know how to tell you and like—" "mark. it's fine , you could've just told me." you said laughing, "you're such a nervous wreck when it comes to sex like we haven't done it before , but in a car? im excited." you said.

"so this is okay? You're right though , i should've just told you.." mark facepalmed. "I told you its fine mark , if anything you made me really horny , having sex in a parking lot feels exciting." he blushed at your words. "really?" "yeah!" you replied "we should.. get in the backseat then right?" he asked. "yeah.." you two were awkward about this , but mostly mark because he thought you'd think he was weird and gross for wanting to have sex in public and tell everyone on campus , so now that you admitted it made you horny he got excited and was ready to fuck you so bad. mark and you lowered the front seats forward so you'd have more room in the back and then hopped in , immediately jumping to making out.

mark ran his hands all over your body , but he was OBSESSED with your waist , he loved holding it especially when he felt jealous or possessive. you smiled as you kissed him. you both slowly moved into a laying position as he unbuckled your belt and unbuttoned your jeans to gain access to your pussy through your boxers. he threw your jeans on the center console along with your belt and and began rubbing your clit through your boxers , feeling how wet you've gotten in the past minute. you moaned and held onto the door behind you , "fuckkk..." you stretched out the word at the feeling of him toying with you , slightly lifting your hips. he soon removed your boxers and looked at the color of your pussy , admiring how it looked when it was soaked in your juices. he placed his hands at the back of your knees and pressed your legs to your chest then licked a stripe up your cunt and placed a wet kiss onto your clit.

you cried out in pleasure. whenever mark ate you out it was amazing , you're the first partner he's ever had with a vagina but he knew exactly what to do. he must've been studying up for your sake. top student on campus , top student at eating pussy. "is this good?" he said , rubbing his thumb up and down your folds. "yeah.. keep going.." you responded out of breath from moaning. mark reached over to his glove box in the front and pulled out a packet of lube , ripping it open with his teeth and spreading it all over your cunt and his fingers. "take a deep breath (m/n).." he said , sliding his middle finger into you slowly and thrusting it in and out. you threw your head back and gripped the door handle , moaning out your boyfriends name and whimpering. "it's alright baby , i got you." he said , leaning over and giving a tender kiss in which you melted into.

mark inserted a second finger into your sopping cunt , "you're so fucking wet.." he said before dipping down and having a make out session with your clit , running his tongue over it and flicking it with his tongue. "mark im gonna cum.." you said biting your lip and putting your hand in his hair. this only made him suck on your clit harder and faster. you couldn't take the pleasure anymore and came so hard , a clear liquid shot out your pussy and onto mark's face and seats. he slid his two fingers side to side on your cunt as you let loose and immediately went back to eating you out. you were so sensitive and he was so hungry.

mark lifted his head back up and started unbuckling his belt and discarding it , taking the rest of the lube in the packet and spreading it all over his cock. he looked at you like he was a fox and you were the rabbit he couldn't wait to devour , his cheeks were red and he was sweating from his forehead. he slid his cock over your clit and between your folds and gave you a hard kiss , rubbing his tongue against yours and pulling on your bottom lip with his teeth. "mark.." you said , reaching your hand forward and rubbing his cock again your entrance. he smirked and took his cock , slowly sliding it into your entrance. your eyes rolled back but before you could let out a moan he took it out teasingly. you honestly werent having it. "put it in..!" you said , rubbing your clit and looking into his eyes. he laughed and inserted his tip back into your cunt , doing this a couple more times until he snapped his hips against yours and started thrusting into you at a fast pace.

mark replaced your fingers rubbing your clit with his thumb as you moaned his name and let out a whimper each time his hips met yours. the only noises in the car were grunting and the sound of skin slapping against skin. "fuckkk (m/n).." he groaned. he watched as your eyes rolled back into your head and you lifted your hips up so his thrusts were angled directly towards your prostate , your head fell onto the car seat and you gripped his arms. "im gonna fucking cum!" you exclaimed. "fuckin' squirt again for me.." mark commanded , after he said that you immediately squirted all over his dick as he pulled out and rubbed your clit. he then put his cock back into your pussy to help you ride out your high. "s..shit.." he stuttered , pulling his dick out and cumming all over your glistening cunt with his mouth wide open. mark was panting and so you , you were both wet and sweaty making the car smell like sex. he'll definitely need to air out the car and buy air fresheners for future purposes.

mark leaned down and made out with you , tracing the sides of your face with his palm and holding you by your waist. "we need to have car sex more often.." he said smiling. you giggled at his joke and held him close , eventually having to let go. "we should go to our dorm and get new clothes.. they're really wet.." you said. "Lets go." he agreed , giving you one last peck on your cheek before putting his soaked clothes back on just for the ride back.

lets hope nobody questions why he smells like that when he walks through the halls.

c/n: HI IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK LONGER THAN I SAID TO PUT OUT! my job has me busy and im still buying furniture for my home , im going for a modern look so i gotta save up and work hard to get what i want!! i noticed i improved in my writing, especially when writing smut because i used to skip the prep parts and it was so bad 😭 . im a virgin so writing smut is a struggle but im always on tumblr so reading others smut fics and studying up on anatomy and how sex like WORKS was a big help to me. i still suck at dialogue but practice makes almost perfect! i hope you guys enjoy this work more than my others, cuz they really suck lol. 💙

#liyatime. . 💭.#kpop fanfic #kpop x male reader #kpop male reader #mark lee fic #mark lee x male reader #kpop x reader #male reader #m!reader #ftm reader #kpop x ftm reader #nct x male reader #nct fanfic

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hivequest · 1 day

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Sprite by @erifin, BG from Befriendus

You had felt your survival instincts had been getting better recently. Really, you did! You took roads that were at least known by trolls more often but still weren't too populated to lower the risks of running into any unsavory types. You didn't throw yourself headlong into every interaction with trolls who were very likely to kill you without at least pausing at the edge of the cliff and thinking "Well this might not be a good idea."

Really any progress was good progress! However, it wasn't enough for some of your friends. Either way, you're getting sidetracked.

The point is you're walking along a beach. Which!! You know isn't the smartest idea you've had but it's not like you didn't put ANY thought into it. You made sure to watch for a long time, checking and checking again to make sure there wasn't anyone hanging around. Not even just the land-dwelling trolls. You kept an eye out the horizon for a while, waiting to see any fishy types appear from the seafoam and bubbles.

Ha. Fishy types.

But there was no one. For a long way in any direction, there wasn't a soul in sight—no one to drag you down into hitherto unknown and dangerous watery depths.

So, you were strolling. It had been a long, long time since you were able to sink your toes in the sand. You knew this wasn't Earth but the sounds of the waves felt as familiar on this planet as they did back home. It felt… nice. Like for once, you were fully able to disconnect yourself from your friendventuring and recharge by doing something that was known to you. You enjoyed Tagora's spa days and lavish self-care but that wasn't something you could afford to do back home. You hated having to budget shit.

And this whole beach was completely abandoned! It was perfect!

You were so wrapped up in boosting your mental health and enjoying the quietude of being alone that you didn't realize that you weren't anymore…

Oh, fuck me.

There was absolutely someone behind you right now, wasn't there.

Trying not to flip the fuck out right away you continued your leisurely stroll, keeping your muscles purposefully untensed. The person, monster, whatever it was stayed right behind you. Its steps matched perfectly with your own to the point that you couldn't even hear it even though it was clearly right behind you.

Shit. Fuck. Piss.

How long had it been following you? How had it gotten so close to you without your human spacial awareness kicking in to say "Hey, Chucklefuck! Someone is creeping up behind you and is getting right up into your personal bubble!"?

You didn't know. And faking nonchalance was getting harder and harder. Why wouldn't it just do something? Kill the rising tension by killing you. Something, anything!

Make a move already!

You whip around to face your impending Bad End head-on when in a fraction of a second all of that fake bravado you just built up vanishes. Swept away by the waves as cold, icy reality stares you straight in the face.

You've crossed paths with seadwellers a few times. Never have they been pleasant experiences. This was worse. A lot worse.

The troll standing in front of you isn't unreasonably tall, but he's bigger than you. The fins and gills you would expect to see on a seadweller are there, obviously, but the thing that really seals the deal is his eyes. They're fuchsia. And staring right at you.

And he looks disgusted by what he sees.

Nothing in your quest for friends could have prepared you for this. Honestly, you were fine with purple bloods being the highest-ranked troll you got to bring into your friendship fold. You doubted being complicit with Polypa murdering a violet blood would do anything to endear you to them you get the distinct impression there's nothing you could say that would endear you to the troll standing in front of you. And he was fucking fuchsia. The top of the top. Part of the brutal climb for the seat of the empire.

"Why the fuck are you here?"

Ah, a very good question! You're right, you tell him. What are you doing here? You shake your head in dismay before trying to leave. You shouldn't be here, so you'll be on your way now!

"Take another step and you'll lose the privilege of having legs."

Yikes.

You choose then to stop and turn back around to look at the boy you just tried unsuccessfully to snub. He doesn't look impressed. He actually looks even more pissed than when you first dared to look at his face. Great! You love that for yourself.

"We asked you a question, you vaguely-shaped sea slug. You will answer Us."

We? Us? You peer around him to see if he has a posse of other fish trolls like that one group you ran into with Karako. But no, it's just him. So he's talking about himself in the third person. Cool. That's cool. And not at all making you feel like your guts have turned into worms from how much of a middle-school edgelord that makes him sound.

But wait. He's a prince, isn't he? Isn't there a royal "we" or something? Isn't that a thing? Huh. And you suppose this guy just takes way too far. Makes sense from what you would expect from someone at the top of the pyramid of the bullshit roles Alternia has.

Also, you still haven't answered this guy's question, Jesus Christ.

Well, you wanted to take a nice leisurely walk on the sand, take in the sights and sounds of the sea and this beach was completely empty so…

You give a little non-committal shrug. You hope the action will convey just how pure your intentions were and just how non-threatening you as an alien were.

His eyes narrow and he just looks more annoyed.

"No one was on the beach because this whole thing is Mine."

Oh, you were trespassing. Cool! Yeah, no wonder he wasn't happy to see you.

You apologize for bumbling your way onto his property. You'll leave if he wants you to. You want him to want you to.

"No. This isn't how this works. You strolled your way onto Our beach. You don't get to fuck off as you please. And either way…"

The moonlight catches on gold and you notice something glinting in his hands that you really should have seen before. He has a fucking trident.

"You're an alien."

This guy will kill you. You can tell that away away, he is not playing any games with you about that. You've been told several times by worried friends that you're cull-on-sight and crossing the path of any highblood who has anything less than the coldest of chills, someone would take your head. And you get the feeling that to a hot pink tyrant trying to prove his worth as a ruler to the powers that be, yours would make a good trophy.

Oh, boy. Now is the time to talk and talk fast.

You know from first-hand experience that just because a troll isn't friendly doesn't mean they aren't friendable. So it's time to do what you do best.

You nod, confirming what he already knows to be true. That's right, you're an alien! He seems to know so much about you already! Has he heard about you from his friends? Or has he seen your legs trending on Chittr? Really, you feel like you're at such a disadvantage here. He knows all about you and you don't even know his name!

His gaze which was so intense and deadly has fully warped into something confused. He doesn't know what to make of you now because of the whirlwind of bullshit you just threw at him. Good! He blinks a few times; god his eyes really are pink, aren't they?

"…Our name is Amante. Amante Belico."

He tilts his head arrogantly and you make a show of bowing in front of him. He seems to like that a lot and you know you have him in your little friendship grasp now. You can feel it. Just need to stroke his ego and you can make it out of this in at least less than ten pieces!

It's an honor to meet him! You haven't encountered an esteemed fuchsiablood before, you thank him for gracing you with his presence.

"We imagine it is an honor. Don't think We don't see what you're doing here. We aren't so crammed up Our own nook We can't tell when someone is trying to stoke Our ego for their own survival."

Oh.

"Unfortunately, it will work on Us."

Hell yes.

Amante leads you down the beach a little ways back in the direction you came from. You think for a moment he's going to let you go but then he turns off the path. You panic for a second and think he's going to lead you into some dark forest and give you a vicious poking with his trident when you see what looks to be… a tea party? A picnic? He has a beautiful gazebo and patio table setup and it looks stocked up with the most decadent finger foods you've seen since you crash-landed on this planet.

You're not even joking. You've since gotten used to the fact that trolls are eating bugs and other gross stuff that you're only putting into your own body because you have to, but Amante's spread? It looks delicious. All fancy cakes with frosting, cookies, and sandwiches shaped like cuttlefish. For someone so pissy he sure has a cute lunch.

As he settles into his chair he lifts a perfect eyebrow as if daring you to say shit about it. You smartly don't and brace yourself to avoid looking at the food in front of you to not annoy your possible new friend holy shit is that a drone.

Why are there always drones?

But this one doesn't look like the others you've seen. It's…. fancier. A lot more gold and decoration than any of the ones you've seen blowing up the homes of children. Even more different than the drones you're used to, instead of trying to maim you it sets a delicate pink plate in front of you, giving you a fork and a teacup which is promptly filled with a flowery tea.

You're… allowed to eat with him?

He gives you another dour look.

"Of course you're going to eat with Us. We're not a fucking animal. We were sitting here when you passed right by like you owned the beach, actually. Which was a surprise to Us, considering you don't and We chose this particular beach to avoid you… land-dwelling types."

He punctuates his disdain with a long sip from his cup. Well, you certainly aren't going to turn down free food! You know you should show restraint and try to impress your cool new friend with well-crafted table manners but honestly… you are not going to get this again on Alternia. So you don't hesitate, bitch.

You pile your tiny plate high with as many frilly confections as you can get your hands on. Then the drone replaces what you've taken with a fresh one, which you then grab. Then that gets replaced so you grab that one. You and the drone are in a stalemate of snack stealing. Drones don't have facial features or any actual emotions as far as you know but you get the feeling that this butler-drone is getting super annoyed with you. You don't care, so you grab another cupcake and stare it down.

Amante just watches. His expression isn't amused or fond or anything that would give you a read on if he found you annoying his butler charming. He's just. Watching. Man, you thought Mallek had intense eyes but this is another level. And… he hardly blinks. He is focused entirely on you and kinda wish that he wasn't cause you are absolutely going to stuff your face in a second.

You at least try to look decent as you begin to eat and. Yeah. Yeah, this is the good stuff.

You gear up to go to town when Amante leans his elbows on the table and rests his chin on his now-interlaced fingers. Wow. His claws are long. And pink. He's all about the pink aesthetic, isn't he?

"We have questions for you, alien. You will answer them for Us, won't you?"

He phrases it like a question but his tone makes it very clear that you don't actually have a choice in the matter. So you nod, prepping for whatever heinous interrogation he's about to throw your way.

"Excellent. You see, We actually have heard about you. Or at least, We have seen your Chittr profile floating around. We didn't think much of it at the time, assuming that you would be handled by some gutter blood wanting to have some power over another life or one of the land-dwelling 'highbloods' would actually do the job we keep them around for and cull you. They've failed in this very basic expectation We held for them."

"Why haven't you been dealt with properly? It's clear that you're being protected and We want to know why and by whom."

Oh wow, he's really upset that you're alive. You can feel his annoyance, see it in the clenching of his jaw and fluttering of his face-fins.

So many people have protected you in your time on Alternia, you wouldn't know where to start! And you also… don't feel super great about giving this classist asshole the names of all your friends. You get the feeling he wouldn't do anything nice for them with that information. This particular fish prince seems more like the stab-first kind of guy and not like he's going to give them a fruit basket for their assistance.

A lot of people have pitched in to make sure you stay alive. You couldn't really give names, the people on this planet have just been so accommodating!

"You're saying that the low bloods are accommodating."

Yeah, he's not buying it.

"Well, if you say that and you really mean it… That's just a shame. For the low bloods, We mean. Because if they've allowed an alien to run around on Alternia unchecked, even worse helped them when they should have alerted the drones or dealt with it themselves…"

His clawed hand rests adoringly on his trident.

"We should have to punish them for their treason, right? Starting with whoever owns that cerulean sign you're wearing."

And just like that, your appetite is gone. It's like someone replaced all the blood in your veins with ice water. Shit. Mallek. You've been wearing his hoodie for so long that it felt normal. You forgot it broadcasted the literal identity of its owner right on the front! And you've been wearing it in front of a royal fuchsia! Why do you always end up doing stupid shit like this you feel like you're going to cry.

All it would take is a snap of his webbed fingers and Mallek's whole block would be leveled by drones. You need to change the topic, fast. You don't want one of your best friends to die because you just tried to take a stroll on the beach of all things.

So you shift forward and ask him why you surviving this long has him so interested. Surely he has better things to do.

"There is plenty We need to do. Our time is very precious but you know what else is even more precious to Us? Our job. We make sure to keep order during Our time before We die to the Empress. So to hear that an alien has been surviving and thriving under Our watch? Not a good feeling."

But still, he has to have hobbies, right? Other than terrorizing every caste without gills and fins, you mean. Has he tried painting? Bone collecting? Scrapbooking?

He leans back into his hair and thinks to himself. The fact that he's thinking about it is a good sign! His mind is getting off of murder!

"We like fashion. We're a trendsetter. Every troll wants to get their sweaty fronds on the things We wear. Some brands are brave enough to ask Us to try on somefin they've designed. If We like it, We'll keep it. Maybe take a shellfie. Then whatever they gave Us will get sold out, and the owner will be happy, We have something We enjoy for the next few weeks before We throw it out. If We don't…"

He grins, wide and sharklike. All roads lead back to murder for this guy, Christ… But he made a fish pun! He's getting more comfortable and loosening up!

He has a great sense of fashion, you say. You haven't seen any troll dressed more expensively at all, his torn-up dress looks like it could be worth more than the hives you've seen. His chest puffs out a little more and you hear a proud… rumbling? Chittering? Is he purring from being complimented?

"We know. If there is one thing We want to do, it's look like the hottest bitch around. We love getting into fights, more than anyone else, but We know We must set a glittering example for those beneath Us. And everyone is beneath Us so We go the extra mile."

Amante leans forward again, his smile a lot less dangerous now. He picks up a delicate little cake between his claws and pops it into his mouth. He notices some cream on his fingertips and without missing a beat he licks it off and-- oh.

He has a gold tongue piercing.

Neat.

You desperately grab one of the cakes from your plate and shove it into your mouth for a distraction. How did you not notice that?

Then again this troll is covered in gold jewelry so maybe it didn't register until you had to notice it. You've seen the piercings trolls have, Mallek has some in places you wouldn't normally see them, like his chest. You probably shouldn't ask Amante if he has chest piercings but now your mind is swirling with all the other places this primadonna could have decorated himself with gold and wow you really need to get your mind out of this rabbit hole fast.

You slam your head on the table, just once. Amante flinches back, eyes wide behind his glasses. Shades?

"What the fuck was that? Are you okay?"

You assure him you're fine, you just needed to derail a dangerous train of thought. He's still looking at you warily.

"Is this the kind of thing you normally do? Is this an alien thing?"

No, this was just a you thing.

"Ah, so you're just a weird little bastard all the time then. You could have lied to Us, you know. It's not like We have any other aliens to use as a reference for whatever you do. If We were in your position We would be making up whatever nonsense We wanted and passing it off as the truth. That just seems funny to Us."

You quietly tuck that idea away into the back of your mind to use later to fuck with someone. Maybe Galekh. That could be funny.

You don't think he would like that, you tell him. You get the feeling that he prefers people just to say whatever they're thinking or doing plainly to his face without sneaking around. He seems like he prefers direct answers to his questions. He hums, actually seeming impressed.

"True. We've seen too many trolls spew bilge out of their squawk gapers these days. And you were smart not to lie to Us. You wouldn't have enjoyed the consequences of that."

Exactly! That's why it was just easier to actually answer his question. Also, you're surprised he would want to play those kinds of pranks on people? Doesn't really seem like his style.

He crosses his arms.

"We were talking about hobbies and stuff, yes? We like to have fun too, you know. Our moirail often plays jokes on Us, though we often struggle to get him back."

Oh! He has a moirail! You… well, you can already guess what kind of person he would have to be to get along with someone who enjoys murdering people who can't defend themselves against him. Still! He has a moirail! He's talking to you about his boyfriend!

You try super casually to ask for more details and he seems to clam up and flush fuchsia.

"That's!! Not really your business! All you need to know is that We get along well with him and you'll probably meet him at some point! If you live that long."

Ah, another threat. This one rolls off of your back like water. For as dangerous as he is and how willing he is to do harm to others you get the feeling you know how to handle him now. Well, in a controlled picnic by the beach setting at least but still, it's something!

You could almost call this side of him charming, with the anxious way he drummed his fingers on the table and refused to look at you. You got the feeling that for as much as he was able to absolutely terrify you and would more than likely do so in the future… there might be something redeemable in there!

Or maybe not. Probably not. He seems pretty set in his murdery way as long as he gets to stay on top.

He isn't the kind of troll you would… choose to be friends with if you weren't under the active threat of being killed by him and you can't introduce him to plenty of your other friends but at least you didn't die!

Good end! (?)

#homestuck #hiveswap #homestuck oc #hiveswap oc #fantroll #hs #hiveswap friendsim #friendsim #this isn't the new fantroll I talked about yesterday amante has been around for a while I just forgot to post him #this fanfic to go along with it has been sitting around since 2023... sorry it ends so abruptly I just needed it done so I could post it #anyways back to working on my new jadeblood (why are so many of my fantrolls fuchsia or jade??)

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cherrycolored-punk · 2 days

Text

WD - Chapter Two🦇

Masterlist

summary: is it possible to be haunted by a town? for it to sink its claws into you, and be felt whenever you close your eyes?

author's note: I’m a few hours late but here it is! I really enjoyed writing this chapter so I hope you love reading it. Please comment or reblog if you did! Support is always so appreciated 🖤

w/c: 2.5k

warnings: nightmares, mention of blood and injuries. please let me know if I missed anything!

The road into Hawkins is quiet except for the faint noise of cicadas in the distance. Their song plays low, a soft hum in the cool air.

The only light is the full moon hanging in the night sky, illuminating everything with a white glow. It follows you, a quiet passenger, as you approach the Hideout—hesitant, heavy feet carrying you forward.

The building isn’t as it was before when you first saw it.

The wood is all but rotted through, the thin boards warped and bent out of shape. Looking as though it could collapse in on itself. Cobwebs hang on nearly every surface, thick and dotted with corpses of bugs. Spiders crawl in and out of the crevices in the wood, searching for more sustenance.

There is an unnerving silence that envelops you, the cicadas no longer singing. The wind still and heavy.

You take a shaky breath.

It’s cold despite being the middle of summer, and you can see the evidence of your unease puffing out in white clouds in front of you.

You step through the front door, just as you had before. The space is dimly lit, and the red of the Coors Light sign creates an eerie glow in the otherwise pitch-black room.

Shadows dance in your peripheral, moving on the bar's edge, closing in on you until you can feel their presence like a whisper above your skin.

Dominating and suffocating.

You walk further into the Hideout, your legs feeling like they’re made of lead.

A chill runs up your spine as your head whips around the space.

“Eddie?” you whisper for the only person you know, but your voice echoes across the empty space.

The squeak of a floorboard makes your neck snap to the right. Listening, waiting. Trying to steady your breathing.

You are not alone.

The hairs on your arms stand on end, and your heart picks up pace. The same strange feeling that someone is watching you growing by the second.

You can feel them with you, their eyes following your frame.

Fingers dance across the back of your head and you turn around, breaths coming in unsteady gasps - finding no one behind you.

“H-hello?” You stammer, but you’re only met with silence. A never-ending quiet that feels like it consumes you.

A shiver runs up your spine as warm breath fans across your neck, and you feel something sharp run down your back.

The voice is loud as it calls your name. Haunting and overwhelming. A little hypnotizing, but you don’t dare turn around, eyes trained on the darkness as it steadily approaches. The red glow of the neon sign disappears.

The stench of rotting flesh fills your senses, making you dizzy with nausea, and you about fall to your knees when sharp fingers wrap around your neck. Their grasp cuts off your breath, digging into your throat.

The voice repeats your name.

Closer.

Louder.

Angrier.

You feel your eyes begin to close as you drift into unconsciousness. Unable to breathe, unable to see.

All you feel is darkness.

–

The alarm on your phone blares, the catchy pop tune a stark contrast to how you gasp awake, fingers clawing at your throat as your legs thrash beneath your sheets.

You sit up in bed, wide eyes dancing around the room, wondering if what you’re seeing is real or part of the dream.

A layer of cold sweat coats your skin, making the fabric of your t-shirt cling to your skin uncomfortably. Your chest heaves as you try to draw more air into your lungs, a disbelieving gaze searching for signs that you’re still stuck in your nightmare.

But the loud noise of the busy streets below your apartment reminds you that you’re home. You reach over to your nightstand, an absent finger tapping away until finally, the alarm quiets, and all you can hear is the white noise of the city.

A sigh of relief leaves your lips as your shoulders shrink from your ears, but your hand is still pressed to your throat. You can still feel its grasp, its nails clawing into your skin. The stench of its dead flesh still stuck in your nose, making your stomach turn.

You throw the comforter off your body, swinging your legs over the side of your bed and ignoring the way the cool air of the fan meeting your sweat slicked skin sends a shiver up your spine. Making your nausea that much worse.

Your arms stretch over your head, but a sharp pain makes you freeze, face twist in growing agony. Automatically, your hand reaches for your back searching for the source of it all. Your fingers push under the fabric of your shirt, and you wince, a gnawing pain shooting through your body when your fingertips connect with a jagged mark starting at the bottom of your back.

What the fuck?

You rush off the bed, pulling your shirt above your head and turning your back towards the full-length mirror that leans against the wall near your closet.

For a moment, you’re scared to turn around. Already knowing what the mirror will reflect.

You take a steadying breath and place a hesitant chin on your shoulder, chancing a look down.

Every muscle in your body tightens, your heart hammering against your ribs when you see the long gash that lines your spine. The blood is already crusted over, a deep maroon that stares back at you.

Flashes of your nightmare spring forward and you quickly pull your shirt back down, gaze trained on your hardwood floor.

Questions flooded your mind, none of which you had answers to.

What happened in Hawkins forty years ago?

Who or what was Eddie?

And what was the thing in your dream?

Matthew had mentioned an earthquake that decimated the town, but it felt like there was something more.

All you knew for sure was that there was something strange about the small town, something that lurked in the shadows, and for some reason, you could feel its malice. The evidence of which was marred into your skin.

You sat in front of your laptop and stared at the screen, the cursor blinking back at you as you debated what to search for first.

The easiest place to start was with Hawkins itself. Hurried fingers rush over the keys as you type into the search bar.

Dozens of links loaded onto the screen. Headlines that gave a glimpse into the destruction, the loss that the town felt.

“Hell Is Upon Us”

“The Devil’s Gate”

“Nearly All Presumed Dead”

You read through each one, all of them containing the same details. An unprecedented earthquake, a death toll that only climbed as the days dragged on, and missing people who were never found presumed to be amongst the carnage.

“The town appears nearly split in half, a massive hole in the ground like a portal to hell.”

Pictures were attached, blurry images that showed the state of destruction from when it first occurred. Your eyes pour over the scene, widening when you see the giant crater that was once Hawkins.

You scroll further and read through the names of those missing and presumed dead.

Dustin Henderson.

Lucas Sinclair.

Steve Harrington.

Robin Buckley.

Ted Wheeler.

Karen Wheeler.

Nancy Wheeler.

Michael Wheeler.

Holly Wheeler.

Jesus, the whole family.

The list dragged on.

The few who survived relocated or were never heard from again.

And it was only when you saw his face that you knew it wasn’t a dream.

Eddie Munson stared back at you through your screen, a picture of him in black in white but with the same vivid gaze. The flyer detailed his appearance, height and weight—the color of his hair, the shade of his eyes. But you could still smell his cologne.

You gulp, mind unable to grapple with the reality. Because you know you saw Eddie. Talked to him, flirted with him, but he was…a ghost?

It didn’t make sense.

It was almost worse than him being a figment of your imagination because he was real, but he was dead.

You swallow the bile that rises in your throat and click the back arrowing, Eddie’s face disappearing when you do but stained on your vision.

You continue to scroll down the list of articles.

One link in particular catches your eye.

“No Return: Some Who Visit Hawkins Don’t Come Back.”

You click the link and are taken to a LiveJournal blog.

Above the title is a collage of missing faces, and amongst them are newer pictures of those who recently went missing.

The blog entry details their disappearances with one common denominator: they all had ventured beyond Hawkins’ city limits and were never seen again.

You read through the accounts of their family and friends. The details the missing had once shared before they disappeared.

A broken-down car on the edge of the town, an abandoned bar or store, ghostly encounters, and recurring nightmares.

Your heart thuds against your chest, and you click on another blog entry.

It’s a list of links, one of which leads to a YouTube channel. You click it curiously, recognizing the face of the narrator from the banner on the blog—one of the people who was now missing.

Ryan Lancaster.

The video is dated two years ago and starts with a recounting of Hawkins’ history with a montage of the photos you’d seen in the articles you read before it cuts to a video of Ryan talking about his experience.

He’d entered on the opposite side of town as you, but not two miles in, his car broke down. His cell had no service, so he began to walk into town, hoping to find someone who could help or direct him to a mechanic shop.

He talked about how he wandered into a video store, excited because those were obsolete. Replaced with streaming.

The inside felt like stepping into a time capsule. He expected DVDs, but he found VHS tapes and two workers who he thought were pretending not to know what discs were.

Ryan swears he wasn’t inside for over thirty minutes, but the sun had already gone down when he left.

When he turned back around, the store was abandoned. There was no one in sight. No Robin or Steve, the two he’d just met.

An eerie feeling settles over you as you continue to watch the video.

He walked until his phone regained signal on the outskirts of town and called a tow service.

The nightmares started two days later, and you can see the terrified look in his eyes. The way he stares off into space as he recalls the presence he can still feel.

It sends a shiver through your spine, a sense of dread pulling in your stomach.

He only found out about the town’s history when he searched online. Horrified to find that Robin and Steve were presumed dead for nearly forty years.

So he was set on exploring the town, convinced that it was an undiscovered gem. Possibly one of America’s most haunted.

The video ends with him inviting viewers to continue to watch as he documents what he uncovers.

You click on his page, and your heart stops when you read the next title.

Six days after the first video is one titled Ryan is Missing…

You slam your computer shut and press your fingers into your temples, trying to massage the growing headache that throbbed against your skull.

None of it made sense; it felt like you were losing your mind.

There wasn’t a logical explanation for any of it, but you couldn’t ignore how you were drawn in. Like the town had a vice grip on you and refused to let you go.

And part of you wants to reach back. To be dragged in.

—-

The Hideout is busy…as busy as it can be for a Wednesday night.

A haze of cigarette smoke clouds the space, making the light of the neon bar signs all the brighter—a red glow cast over the otherwise dimly lit bar.

Madonna’s Like a Prayer plays on the jukebox, and Eddie tries to hide how he bobs his head as he pours another beer. He has heard this one at least once a night since it came out.

Customers are scattered around the Hideout; a couple dancing, gazing at each other with drunken smiles. The same few drunks plopped into stools before him, downcast eyes staring into their drinks, watching how bubbles form and burst at its surface. Some pressed into the red vinyl seats that needed to be replaced. Making out or in deep conversation.

It is a typical Wednesday night, and Eddie is bored out of his mind. Praying for some excitement. A pretty girl, a funny drunk, a gnarly bar fight. Anything.

He huffs and stares at the ceiling, absently wiping circles into the wood surface of the bar—persistent rings threatening to break down the varnish.

He is tempted to begin ripping dollar bills from where they are pinned to the ceiling, betting that there’s at least two hundred dollars there. It’s not a lot, but it’s enough to get him the hell out of Hawkins.

“Munson,” one of the regulars grumbles and breaks his trance.

Eddie points his bored, hooded gaze in the man’s direction. His chin resting on the palm of his hand.

“Another?” He asks, already pushing off his elbows and reaching for the man’s mug.

“You know me,” the man chuckles, hiccuping and tilting back in his seat.

Eddie fills the glass to the brim with the cool, amber liquid.

“That I do, Roy,” but Eddie can’t give him a full smile as he slides the filled mug in front of the man.

Roy pushes a five-dollar bill towards the curly-haired bartender.

“Towards your tab?” Munson asks, holding up the money, but the man shakes his head.

“A tip,” the man holds up his mug in cheers, and Eddie tilts an appreciative chin in his direction before reaching for his wallet.

He pulls the black leather from the back pocket of his jeans and unfolds it to push the five into the bill hold.

His hands freeze, his gaze trained on a bill he’d never seen before.

Where did you come from?

Eddie pulls it from his wallet, dropping the leather onto the bar top as he examines the money.

The note is so different from the one he was just given; a bigger portrait of Lincoln, the bald eagle situated behind the president, and the money far more colorful.

His eyes turn to slits as he peers closer, looking for signs of forgery because there is no way it is real.

And then he sees it, the small writing right next to Good Ol’ Abe—series 2024.

No fucking way.

How did you get here?

His heart thunders against his ribs, and he shakes his head as he closes his eyes—images of a girl, her smile, the smell of her perfume. The way she looked up at him with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Why do you look so familiar?

It feels like he’s grasping for a memory that feels more like a dream because he would’ve remembered you.

Eddie swallows hard and opens his eyes, his gaze darting around the bar.

The scene is just like any other Wednesday, but why does he feel like he’s lived this moment before?

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