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wttcsms · 1 year

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diesel is desire (we were playing with fire) ; sebastian sallow

pairing sebastian sallow x f!reader word count 4k synopsis sebastian sallow is a good friend. so good, in fact, that when you find yourself under the ungodly influence of a lust potion, he's willing to help give you some relief. content contains seventh year au, dubcon (under the influence of lust potion), darker take on seb's character lol <3, breeding kink, creampie, possessive!sebastian, possessive sex, virginity loss, babytrapping

“Why did you go out of your way to avoid me?”

An accusatory voice momentarily breaks you free from the overwhelming feelings you were struggling to deal with, but the voice is too familiar.

The source? Sebastian Sallow — a very disappointed Sebastian Sallow, which after two years of friendship (and the lingering what-if of becoming something more), you’re able to identify as a Sebastian that you would much rather not be dealing with. Particularly because, try as hard as he might, he’s rather prone to saying harsh things and treating you unkindly whenever he gets into one of his moods. The hurt expression on his face is barely concealed by the scowl that mars his otherwise handsome features.

Don’t think about how handsome he is!

Instead of replying to him, you’re quick to turn your head to the side, trying to focus on the curtain that separates your cot from the others in the infirmary. It’ll do no good to engage with Sebastian right now — not whenever the reason you’ve been compelled to check yourself in to the school nurse is purely because you’re not sure if you have enough self-control to stop yourself from literally ripping his robes off of him.

But it’s not like you can tell him all that. Lying would be preferable, if only Sebastian wasn’t so attuned to you and every single one of your tells. If you attempted lying to him, who knows what more damage you would cause? Then again, blatantly ignoring him also seems equally dangerous, especially with how quick to irritate he’s been lately. Ever since you witnessed him literally murdering his uncle, the relationship between the two of you has grown stronger — being practically partners in crime will do that to a friendship — but also more… volatile. The charming fifth-year you met on your first day of school still remains, but you have long since realized that there’s more to him than meets the eye.

On the surface, he’s nothing but affable. Maybe a bit of a rebellious streak, but it’s all in good nature. In the beginning, it was fun being with him. Exciting, even. Then you started following him on the dark path he paved all by himself, and before you could realize that you were in too deep, it had already been too late to turn around. Now, the seventh-year boy standing by your cot seems so different from the one who lives on only in your memories.

“Don’t ignore me.” He means to make the words come out sharp, irritated. It resembles more of a plea than anything, and you shut your eyes, willing him to leave. It must be all in your head, but you swear you can smell the familiar scent of him: cool mint mixed with the light musk of whatever cologne he’s been favoring since the fifth year.

“Sebastian, I’m not feeling very well.” You mumble, hoping it’ll be enough to get him to leave you alone. It’s not a lie. You aren’t feeling great whatsoever. Not even the nurse, bless her heart, can figure out what’s become of you. She gave you a pitying look and an almost amused smile as she explained that — in her words — sexual urges are very normal for girls your age.

If your body wasn’t already overheating, you’re certain your cheeks would have instantly turned hot from sheer embarrassment.

“Well, why wouldn’t you tell me that instead of abandoning me the whole entire day?” Sebastian is many things with different people. With you, he is both guarded and vulnerable. Some days, when you’re not feeling your best, his emotions versus his actions can give you whiplash. He has the audacity to say something like that all the while, he sounds absolutely tortured over the fact that he had to go eight hours without your presence.

As if realizing the harshness of his attitude, he softens his tone as he asks, “Are you feeling any better?”

You had gone to the Great Hall before him because you needed to review your History of Magic notes before the test today. All you had was a bit of pumpkin juice and toast, and all had been well until you started feeling warm underneath your robes and sweater. As the heat began to travel through your body, you found it hard to concentrate on your notes. Not because of the heat, but because of the many thoughts swirling around in your head. Flashes of Sebastian that started innocently enough and quickly morphed into daydreams of him without his uniform. Sebastian with his hair messed up from the way your fingers tugged at the strands as he satiated his thirst with the juices flooding between your legs. Sebastian who would prioritize your pleasure over his and could make you cum multiple times before even thinking about getting his dick wet. Sebastian—

—who you share most of your classes with!

You knew right then and there that something had to be wrong with you. Sure, you’ve thought about him sometimes, but never to that degree. And certainly never at seven in the morning over breakfast and history notes.

That’s how you ended up lying in a cot in the infirmary, trying your hardest to ignore the intrusive thoughts of Sebastian fucking you ‘til you can’t walk anymore.

“No.” You practically moan out the word, and you’re hoping to play it off as just you being a baby about being “sick”.

You don’t expect him to turn your head so that you’re staring up at the ceiling, and you certainly don’t expect him to press the back of his hand against your forehead. His hands are cold, but surprisingly enough, it brings you some sort of relief from the fever that has seemingly overtaken your body. You bite back another moan.

“You’re burning up.” Gone is his attitude. Instead, it’s been replaced by your favorite Sebastian — the kind, caring one. The one that resembles the boy you first met. Sometimes, his care can be suffocating, but when you find yourself craving nothing but him and his touch, you don’t mind his invasion of your personal space at all. “Are there any other side effects? Does your throat hurt? Stomach? Tell me what’s the matter.”

You know how Sebastian must feel when it comes to people he cares about falling ill. His sister has only made him more paranoid about the severity of sickness and curses, and the concern and fear etched upon his face makes your hardened resolve of keeping the sordid details of your affliction to yourself melt away.

“Don’t laugh…” You warn him, but your voice seems so small and maybe even a little scared that his expression turns even more serious.

“Never.”

“I think… I think something happened to me. A charm…” You’re careful to dance around the word curse, lest Sebastian accidentally blows up the whole entire infirmary due to his emotional state. “I just feel very hot. And, um, I think the only relief would be to—”

You can’t even say it. You can barely even explain it since you don’t really know what’s happening either.

“I’mfeelingverysexuallyfrustratedandIhavenomeansofrelief!”

The two of you know that you’re never going to repeat that phrase ever again, and you’re practically near tears after that little confession.

“Oh.” He says, as if this is nothing more than a simple, casual conversation and not the most humiliating situation ever. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Be-because it’s embarrassing!” Has he really no shame? Who would willingly admit that out loud?

“You know, I’ve heard rumors of some sixth-years trying to pull pranks by spiking the juices with love potions. Just really gimmicky concoctions, truly. Nothing too severe. Hmm… You must have a sensitivity to it, though.” Sebastian’s musings do nothing to bring you reassurance. If anything, it just makes you want to hide. If the universe is truly kind, a sinkhole will emerge from nowhere and swallow you whole. Yes, that sounds lovely right now.

Instead, the universe is sick, because what else could explain Sebastian telling you,

“If it’s relief you need, I’d be happy to help.”

Sebastian is many things to you — a dear friend, a confidant, a literal partner in crime — but none of those things involve him having sex with you, even if the offer only came from some odd sense of duty.

And that’s what this is, isn’t it? He probably feels indebted to you since the fifth-year. Maybe even anxious, too. You could expose him at any given moment, and maybe that’s why he’s been so keen on attaching himself to your side ever since. This is a humiliating predicament to be in, and Sebastian doesn’t seem like the type to kiss and tell — considering that you don’t even know the names of girls he’s been with before is evidence.

Besides, you’re only feeling incredibly needy for one person. You can accept his offer, but you’re certainly not going to let him know the truth: that only he is the one who can help you.

“Don’t be embarrassed.” His cool hand is now cupping your face, thumb brushing against your cheekbone in an almost gentle manner. Sweet Sebastian is making an appearance, perhaps to try to put you at ease. You like this Sebastian. “Just let me take care of you.”

When the haze of lust clears from your sex-addled mind, the rush of consequences will burden and crush your very conscience.

Fortunatenly enough, consequences are clearly the last thing on your mind.

It would appear that the only thing you can truly focus on is Sebastian and what his idea of ‘taking care of you’ is.

The Sebastian staring greedily at you is an unfamiliar Sebastian. You’ve become accustomed to the many variations of himself: Angry Sebastian, who says the most vile things out of spite and usually misguided anger; Remorseful Sebastian, who is quick to grovel (he’s quite good at groveling, really) and wants nothing more than to be back in your good graces; Happy Sebastian, although there are variations upon this very variation — the trick to seeing whether he’s pseudo-happy or not is all in his smile (the fake one is eerily perfect, the real one is crooked and a rarity). This Sebastian, though…

Hungry.

The word doesn’t quite explain the dark glint in his eyes or the way his hands are almost reverently stroking your body. Your skin felt so, so hot just a few minutes ago — then again, just a few minutes ago, you still had your school jumper and blouse neatly intact. Now, you’re laid practically bare, prey to Sebastian’s more-than predatory gaze.

If the two of you weren’t such great friends, you might have had enough sense to be scared.

The only articles of clothing left to protect your dignity and shield you from his eyes are your skirt (which is already riding up to expose your thighs due to his wandering hands), your white cotton panties, and the matching bra.

“How do you feel now?” He asks, and you want to tell him you’re still feeling embarrassed, but his hands feel surprisingly nice on your skin, and you can’t help but hunger for more. Perhaps the look in his eyes, the one you couldn’t quite find a proper name for, is the same look you’re giving him.

“More.” You whimper out, not caring if you sound selfish or impatient. This is awful. The two of you should put a stop to… To whatever the hell this is! This is a horribly unbecoming, unsavory situation you are in, and if things progress like how you think they are going to (how you want them to), then you’re both dead once all the adults find out. Professor Weasley would probably force the two of you to be wedded within the next day of her finding out, not to mention that the headmaster would probably have the both of your heads on sticks.

But you don’t tell him to stop because your rational thought is slipping, much like your bra. You’re viewing everything almost as if in a trance, almost as if this is happening to someone else and not you. But it is very much you; it’s your nipples hardening after being exposed to the cool air of the infirmary. It’s your bra that Sebastian tosses to the side. He’s licking his lips, eyeing the expanse of skin that has been revealed to him. In ordinary circumstances, you’re certain you would make all attempts to cover yourself up and try to regain some sense of modesty.

In these circumstances, you practically arch your back and mewl out for more, more, more.

More touching. More skin-to-skin contact. More of Sebastian. You want him. All of him. Every part of him. You want his cock ramming into your cunt, you want his hands wrapped around your throat, his mouth spewing out words of filth right into your ear. Most importantly, even though all you can seemingly focus on is having him ravish you, you can’t help but to be greedy and dare to hunger for more. You want his secrets — all of them. You want to know the nightmares that plague him, and whether he’s full of regrets, just like you. You want to have a claim to his soul, just like how he already has a claim to yours. You want to know that when his heart beats, it is calling out for you.

“I’m going to kiss you now.” He announces, like he’s waiting for you to protest. He’s not directly asking, but the question is still there, as is the warning. Can I kiss you? If you let me, there’s no going back.

“Please.” You whimper, completely and entirely at his mercy.

“Say it.” Sebastian swallows hard, almost as if he’s also nervous and too charged up with desire. His fingers are loosening his tie. He has already shrugged off his robes.

He doesn’t tell you want to say, but you already know what he wants to hear. The words have been resting on the tip of your tongue this whole entire time, anyway.

“I want you to— to kiss me, and more…” You look into his eyes. The lights in the infirmary make them appear a lighter color than usual. “I want more. I want you, Sebastian.”

The moment the last confession slips from your soft lips, Sebastian’s mouth descends upon your own. His body is angled awkwardly, trying not to crush you with his weight, but you can feel the heat emanating from him all the same, even despite the layers of his clothing that separates the two of you.

You think the world stops spinning when his lips slot against yours. He tastes like the pumpkin juice from this morning, sweet and refreshing. There’s a lingering taste of spearmint toothpaste. You want to keep kissing him forever. You want him to kiss you everywhere else. When breathing becomes a necessary thing, he stops. You frown. You didn’t want him to stop. Oxygen is overrated, anyway.

He lays a hand against the pillow you’re resting on, staring down at you, want clearly displayed on his visage; desire is etched onto every facial feature, and his eyes are gazing so intently into yours, you wonder if he’s a Legilimens.

“Promise me you won’t regret this. Swear that you truly do want this.”

He must not be a Legilimens, then. It’s so clear you’ve been in… It feels odd to admit it. Wrong, even. But it’s the truth—

—you’ve been in love with him since the fifth year.

You don’t keep someone’s secrets, their crimes, to yourself when you don’t love them. You let him perform Cruciatus on you, and you forgave him. No — you didn’t. Because you asked him to. There was nothing to forgive. You would endure it, over and over and over again, just for him, only him. And to think, you’re flooding your panties just at some simple fantasies of him, and he has the nerve to believe you don’t want this? Don’t want him?

“I promise. I swear it to you. I want this entirely.” And maybe liquid courage had been slipped into the juice you’ve consumed as well because you find yourself admitting, “I’ve always wanted to do this with you. If it… If it had to be done the first time around, I would always dream of you doing it to me.”

He stops breathing, just for a moment. Gapes at you, even.

“Y-you’re a virgin?”

You wonder if you’ve gone off and ruined the mood. You wonder if you should take it back, say you were just joking, but before you can, his lips are pressing against yours once again. This kiss is even hungrier than the last, and you’re not quite sure how that’s even possible. It’s almost as if he wants to devour you whole.

“Thank you.” He gasps out, so close to you that his breath tickles your nose. “Thank you for entrusting me with this, love. I promise I’ll make it good for you, just as you deserve.”

And suddenly Sebastian is just everywhere. His sweater is discarded on the floor, right next to your bra and his tie. His belt is unclasped; he hasn’t even bothered to remove it entirely, just displaced it enough to where he can unbutton his trousers, and he’s pulling it down — his pants, that is. And the briefs. He hasn’t entirely disposed of everything, just partially. Meticulous Sebastian Sallow who is now so far gone into lust and depravity that he cannot even handle wasting another second by removing himself entirely of his clothes. You have made a man into a beast.

But you see the way he’s eyeing you — all dark hair and sharp teeth. He flips your skirt up, exposing your damp panties to him, and he licks his lips again, and you realize — perhaps too late, or perhaps you’ve known all this time — that Sebastian has always been a bit of a beast. A wolf only coyly imitating domesticity.

“You’re so wet.” He brushes a finger against your cotton-covered folds, and you shiver.

Yes! Your body seems to cry out. More, more, more! Your back arches, keening, craving his touch. You’re soaking through the fabric, making it practically translucent. You’ve never been this wet before in your life. You’ve never wanted his touch more badly than you do now.

“For me.” He mutters, but in the silence of the infirmary, you hear him all too clearly. “Is this all for me, love? Have you been like this all day?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to form coherent sentences. Even if he’s not staring at your head, far too fixated at what’s between your legs, he hums his approval.

“Don’t worry, my love. I’ll make it all better.”

He’s kissing you. He’s got your panties only pulled to one side, and you think he’s muttering apologies against your saliva-coated lips. Something that sounds awfully like sorry, so sorry, but I can’t wait, and I don’t think you can, either. You barely catch a glimpse of his cock before you can feel the sharp heat of his length against your inner thigh. You would have thought that there would be some preparation, especially since this will be your first, but you’re thoroughly soaked. You’re aching for a sensation you have never felt before, but the animal inside of your brain is telling you, instinctually, to seek Sebastian out. That Sebastian will make it all better. That’s what he said he’ll do, and he’s kissing you, and he’s apologizing, and—

—and the world stops spinning.

No. There’s some slight resistance at first, your poor cunt protesting at the intrusion. A second later, and he’s slipping in half of his length with considerably more ease. A few inches more, and his hips are pressed against yours, and oh— Oh, it’s like you’re made for him. There is no resistance. There is no pain. There’s just you and him, and your body is welcoming him home. Where has he been? It seems to ask. Please don’t ever leave again.

“Fuuuuck.” He hisses it out, and his teeth are gritted, and he’s admiring you. His eyes flicker to your face, down to your breasts, down down down right to where the two of you are connected. The word comes out broken, and yet, drawn out. As if he’s struggling to speak.

Then he starts thrusting, and suddenly you realize that the world hasn’t ceased its spinning. No — now it’s moving entirely too fast. It must be off its axis. You feel otherworldly. You feel like this pleasure, this overwhelming, absolutely delicious pleasure, cannot simply exist on earth. It should be impossible. It should be impossible to find comfort and rapture in the way the tip of his cock seemingly kisses your cervix. You expect pain.

You only find mindnumbing, earth shattering pleasure.

You feel stretched beyond your limits. You hear his pants and his groans, and you’re moaning, too. Calling out his name, which is so silly, he’s right there, he’s right there. There, at that special spot, at the spot you’ve never been able to discover on your own. You now know why adults advise so heavily against these type of relations — it’s simply addicting. You don’t think you can stop; you don’t think you want to stop.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck, you’re so good f’me. Such a good girl. My good girl, aren’t you?” He’s rambling. His thrusts are considerably sloppier, and you feel his thumb brush against your clit, and you arch your back some more, practically screaming out his name. The stimulation is too much — it’s not enough — and you will always crave him. “Tell me. Tell me that you’re mine.”

There’s something so, so addicting about his possession. About being treated like his possession.

“Yours. M’yours, Seb. All—” You can’t finish your sentence. The pleasure is becoming too much, and you’re too sensitive, and he’s doing this thing, this absolutely amazing thing, where he rubs circles on your clit in tandem with his harsh thrusts, and you’re cumming. You don’t ever want to come down.

He feels you cum, sees your juices drench his cock as he pulls out, only to push right back in, relishing in the feeling of your contracting walls. He leans down, biting on your neck, and you take a hand to grip his dark hair, still cumming, and now he is, too. Spurts of his cum are flooding into you, painting your walls, successfully staking his unrivaled claim on you. You have been compromised. If anyone were to find the two of you out, you would have no other choice but to take his hand, his ring, his family name, him. You would have to take it all.

Coming down from his high, he has enough kindness left in him to lick at the wound he’s left on your neck. Your eyes are fluttering close, the intensity of it all thoroughly exhausting you. You don’t know the thoughts swirling in his mind. You don’t sense the longing behind him stroking your stomach, wondering if the Felix Felicis — his bottled Liquid Luck he’s spent forever brewing — has done its job. It would surely be very lucky, indeed, if his seed takes this first time around.

Your breathing slows, and he feels your heartbeat even out. You’re exhausted, poor thing. Perhaps he had been too rough.

He’ll apologize, he decides, by doing something that’ll benefit the both of you. He ought to clean you up, get you tucked in, and when you wake, he’ll go down on you. He bets you taste so sweet, so innocent. He had known, of course, that he was your first — that he was always going to be your first. Your only.

He wonders if the effects of the lust potion will still linger in your system even after you wake up. Probably so — he did it brew it quite strongly.

But the adoration, the love, in your eyes is something no amount of skilled potioneering can create. No; your feelings for him are real. You just needed to lower your inhibitions to get to the confessional stage.

And now that you have confessed…

Sebastian Sallow can rest well after confirming what he’s known ever since he first laid eyes on you:

You’re his.

#sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #smut #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow smut #one shot #lemon

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5starwitch · 11 months

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Astrology Observations

Scorpio risings or Pluto in the 1st house get strong reactions out of people. They have very striking features and a strong presence that intimidates or even scares some people.

Chiron in the 1st house tend to have been bullied when they were younger for their looks or just who they are. This causes them to have deep seated insecurities but once they heal those wounds, these people are unstoppable! They have the ability to make amazing counselors or therapists.

(TW) Lilith in the 8th house may have dealt with some sexual trauma and because of this may have a lot of issues with intimacy. They are able to know other peoples fantasies and provide an amazing experience for the other person but they might not be able to orgasm themselves.

Neptune in the 11th house have such an open and trusting heart that they might not be able to tell when they have a fake friend. People (especially friends) might try to take advantage of their kindness.

Jupiter in the 12th house is such a lucky placement. These people literally have a guardian angel watching over them. I think of this placement as being one of those babies in cartoons that would walk into construction sites but would turn out fine. If anyone fucks with this placement, best believe they will get their karma.

Moon square mars can make it really difficult for a person to control their emotions. It might make them very volatile and quick to anger.

Mars square Jupiter can heightens someone’s sex drive A LOT. I would even consider it to be a sex addict placement.

Moon trine lilith gives a person a strong power to persuade and even manipulate others. They have very dreamy, doe eyes. They know what makes people tick and they’re not afraid to use that to their advantage. These people also have heightened psychic abilities and have a talent for witchcraft.

Venus sextile Pluto does not want a surface level relationship. You want to see the depths of whoever you wish to be in a relationship with. You want a love that’s all encompassing. People find your intensity exhilarating.

Mercury in Sagittarius is very skilled at picking up new languages. They’re also amazing at debating especially when it comes to philosophy.

Taurus risings have a very calming presence. It doesn’t matter what their other placements are, they make people feel safe and comfortable.

Pisces and virgo moons help others so much. They feel their best when they’re being of service to others. This might cause burn out for them though, because they tend to help others before helping themselves.

…

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#astroblr #astrology #astro posts #astro memes #astro notes #astro placements #astro chart #astro community #astro observations #appearance astrology #moon square mars #moon trine lilith #mars square jupiter #jupiter in the 12th house #astrology posts #astrology observations #astrology community

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veronicawildest · 2 months

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Vedic Astrology notes #3

by yours truly, veronicawildest

♥️ I often notice to the Magha nakshatra natives about this:

- Near death experiences

- Sleeping problems

- When someone significant/love one just died, their life starts to flourish.

Since this nakshatra has corellation to leaving the body The presiding deity of this nakshatra is Pitru or ancestors.

Primary example of this is Megan Thee Stallion (The Dhanista sun of her is also factor to the hardship she's experiencing through but the list that I've listed from above are her experiences that I've seen also with other magha natives. )

♦️The Ketu nakshatra natives I've known are either himbo bimbo or talented motherfvckers (specifically one talent that they're great at)

The talented ones that I'm gonna list are ketu nakshatra natives:

Efren Reyes (Magha sun) - Billiards

Bobby Fischer (Ashwini moon) - Chess

Magnus Carlsen (Ashwini moon) - Chess

Ketu nakshatra, they just know. they don't analyze it. They're very intune with their daemon (Claire nakti and Luna Giiselle) (unless they have sidereal gemini or virgo in their luminaries).

Additional observation: Ashwini nakshatra is tamer compared to Magha and Mula. They're are more likable and can get along quickly with others too.

♥️Mrigashira women that I've known are just happy and laughing at the jokes that aren't even funny. The laugh of Mrigashira is more funnier than their joke (sometimes both, but the laugh is contagious (and funnier for me))

♦️Dhanistha are connected to diamonds:

Ava Max (Dhanistha sun) - Diamonds and Dancefloors

Marilyn Monroe (Dhanistha moon) - Diamonds are girls bestfriend

Megan Thee Stallion (Dhanista sun) - She has a featured song called ""Diamonds" with Normani. Also her alter ego "Tina snow" inspired from Marilyn Monroe.

Additional note to this nakshatra too: Most of those who know vedic astrology mentioned by Claire nakti that the Dhanista have often tragic fame life. As I said earlier, Dhanista is connected to Diamonds. Diamonds are formed deep beneath the surface of the earth and its put under pressure. Hence why the Tragic life occurs and also fame

♥️ Dhanista men that i known are sadboy manipulative shitheads (Be careful if you're inlove with one)

It often reflected to their songs:

Bruno Mars (dhanista rising): It will rain, Grenade, Talking tot the moon

Theweeknd (Dhanista moon):Save your tears, In your eyes

♦️ Vishakha is a lot more dramatic than you give credit to compare to Leo (sidereal cancer that y'all mentioning on the astrology shitposting community)

♥️ The pairings that i often find are:

Dhanista and Vishakha

Jyestha and Purva phalguni

Mrigashira and Krittika

Uttara ashadha and Dhanista

Purva ashadha and Pushya

Vishakha and Purva phalguni

Magha and Arda

(If you wanna copy this info: please give credit to me)

#astrology notes #astrology observations #vedic astro notes #vedic astro observations #vedic astrology #claire nakti #pick a card #magha nakshatra #ketu nakshatra #rahu nakshatra #astrology placements #sidereal astrology

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dee-writes-smut · 16 days

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DAFFODILS (Chapter One)

FEATURING Eris Vanserra x pregnant!reader

SUMMARY The Spring Court has gone to shit, and while you would normally be able to tolerate it, the new discovery that you were pregnant pushes you to the gates of The Autumn Court and unknowingly into Eris' arms.

CONTENT WARNINGS pregnancy, Eris being a slight douche (you know how it is yall), violence (reader is kicked in the stomach), and mentions of Tampon (Tamlin).

AUTHORS NOTE who's excited for the kick-off of yet another series? I am! Of course, I had to start an Eris series, I love him too much not to! Strap in, darlings, I have a feeling this is going to be a long one.

SERIES MASTERLIST

The once vibrant Spring court had gone to shit, a shadow of its former glory. Tamlin, the once revered and compassionate High Lord, had vanished, abandoning his people to suffer in the decay his negligence had allowed to fester.

Amid the desolation, there were attempts to salvage what remained of the Spring Court. Lucien's name surfaced as one who strove to preserve our home. I recall his desperate sacrifice on Calanmai, offering himself to Ianthe in a futile bid to rescue us. He still occasionally visits, perhaps clinging to a hope that he might stumble upon signs of revival, our High Lord restored to his former benevolence. Yet each return only reinforces the stark reality of our decline, leaving him unsurprised by the sight of our dwindling realm.

And now, here I stand, just beyond the borders of the Autumn Court, clad in nothing but the ragged remnants of my escape, imploring the impassive sentries to grant me sanctuary within their walls. They offer no response, their stoic countenances unmoved as I plead and weep at their feet.

In my disheveled state, I must present a pitiful sight—my attire threadbare and stained, my once-glamorous countenance marred by streaks of dirt and smudged cosmetics, my limbs adorned with bruises like macabre adornments.

As I teeter on the brink of desperation, a voice cuts through the stillness, emerging from the depths of the forest to my right. The guards snap to attention at its sound, their posture stiffening even further, if such a thing were possible, in deference to its commanding presence.

"What is the meaning of this?" The voice, smooth as silk and sharp as a blade, belonged to a man with cascading locks of fiery hair, who strode forth from the underbrush with an air of regal authority.

Gods, he was a vision to behold. Despite the earthy stains marring his attire and the tousled state of his tunic sleeves, he exuded an otherworldly allure.

"A mere denizen of the Spring Court, attempting to beg her way into our domain, my lord," one of the guards grumbled, offering a curt bow before callously nudging me aside with his boot. I winced as the blow landed squarely in my stomach.

"And what, pray tell, do you think you are doing, you imbecile!" The fiery-haired man's voice dripped with disdain as he strode forward, confronting the offending guard with palpable fury. "Can you not discern her condition, you fool? She carries life within her."

My heart lurched as I instinctively cradled my abdomen, a protective gesture born of maternal instinct. Though every fiber of my being yearned to retaliate against the guard's callousness, I forced myself to breathe deeply, refusing to succumb to the animalistic urges that society expected of Spring Court members in these desperate times.

"Are you alright?" the man inquired, his amber eyes ablaze with a captivating mix of concern and authority, their gaze so intense that it stole the very air from my lungs.

"I'm… I'm fine," I managed to utter, brushing aside the tangled strands of hair obscuring my face and inhaling deeply to steady my frayed nerves.

"I must apologize for the behavior of my soldier. Rest assured, appropriate measures will be taken, my lady," the man assured me, his smile radiant as he inclined his head with graceful deference. His charm nearly brought a wry laugh to my lips.

"No need for such formalities," I replied weakly, the weight of my displaced status as a refugee gnawing at my throat like a persistent ache. But I steeled myself with the thought of my unborn child, a beacon of hope amidst the chaos. "I am no longer a lady—well, not in the traditional sense, anyway."

"How so?" the man persisted, his expression a blend of curiosity and genuine concern, prompting me to draw my arms tighter around myself.

"I find it quite audacious for someone whose name I don't even know to ask such personal questions," I retorted, feigning a hint of indignation that rang hollow even to my own ears.

"Fair point," he conceded with a charming grin, though his adherence to formality still grated on my nerves. "Allow me to rectify that oversight. My name is Eris. Eris Vanserra, Heir to the Autumn Court," he declared, and I felt a strange mixture of relief and weariness wash over me at his introduction.

Eris. Lucien had spoken sparingly of his older brother during his time in the Spring Court, but whenever he did, a profound sense of affection tinged with melancholy colored his words. I shook myself from my reverie, extending a hand in a gesture of polite acknowledgement as I reciprocated with my own name. Eris repeated my name softly, testing it on his tongue, and my heart twinged at the striking resemblance in mannerism between him and Lucien, one so distant yet familiar, the other painfully close.

"Now," Eris began, his hands making a smooth, sweeping gesture that hinted at his readiness to delve deeper into the matter at hand, "what brings you to the borders of the Autumn Court, my lady?"

"The Spring Court is…" My voice faltered, and I let out a weary sigh, my hand instinctively resting on my still-flat stomach for comfort.

"It's gone to shit," he finished for me, his smirk sharp but not unkind.

"Well, I wouldn't have phrased it quite so bluntly, but yes," I responded, my fingers tracing small circles over my abdomen. "That place and its ruler are no fit environment for a child. Considering the proximity of your court, I was hoping I might find a new beginning here."

"What about the father?" Eris inquired, one eyebrow—a mirror image of Lucien's—arching skeptically.

I clear my throat awkwardly and look at my well-worn shoes. How does one tell the Heir to the Autumn Court that they are pregnant with his youngest brother's babe? How does one also explain how he is mated to another female, that they knew as soon as that brother found out about said babe, he would give up all hope to find his true mate in order to be there for his child?

"Not in the picture," I manage to say, my voice faltering slightly as I reach up to scratch the back of my neck, a gesture betraying my discomfort.

Eris hums, a low, thoughtful sound that vibrates with suspicion, his striking eyes narrowing as he scrutinizes my uneasy demeanor. The weight of his gaze feels like it could peel back the layers of my hastily constructed defenses, compelling me to confront truths I'd rather leave unspoken. Eris's scrutinizing gaze doesn't waver, and the silence stretches taut between us like a bowstring. "Not in the picture," he echoes thoughtfully, each word heavy with the promise of unasked questions.

I nod, feeling the weight of the moment settling around us. The air in the forest seems to hold its breath, the usual whispers of leaves and distant calls of woodland creatures falling into a hushed reverence. "And you must understand, my lord, that my child is my utmost priority," I assert with unwavering resolve, emphasizing his title with a hint of disdain, as if challenging the very foundations of our unequal stations.

The guards stationed behind me draw in sharp, anticipatory breaths, seemingly prepared for their lord to mete out swift retribution for my boldness. I steel myself against the expected blow, a silent rehearsal of defiance.

Yet, the expected strike does not materialize. Instead, Eris regards me with what could only be described as admiration. His gaze, intense and calculating, appraises me not as a threat, but as a formidable presence in my own right.

"Well, little fox," he begins, his voice carrying a playful undertone that belies the depth of his contemplation. He strokes his chin thoughtfully, his fingers tracing the lines of his jaw as if to physically underline his ponderings. "It appears you've presented quite the compelling argument for yourself here."

The use of "little fox" — a term perhaps meant to denote cunning and resilience — sparks a flicker of amusement within me, mixed with a surge of cautious optimism. His demeanor suggests a blend of challenge and respect, hinting at a dynamic that could evolve beyond mere formalities or supplications. This man before me is not just the heir to a court; he is a strategist weighing his next move.

"You seek shelter for yourself and the babe?" Eris inquires with a hint of slyness, as if to subtly test my resolve, though it's a point I've already made abundantly clear.

"Indeed," I retort sharply, refusing to waver under the weight of his penetrating gaze.

"Then shelter you shall have," he declares, pivoting on his heel to fix the guards with a stern glare. "You will allow her passage," he commands, his tone uncompromising. The guards, obedient to their lord's decree, quickly acquiesce, parting to allow me entry with a mere flick of Eris's wrist.

The heady scent of spices and autumnal freshness assaults my senses as I approach the threshold, beckoning me forward with its tantalizing allure. It's as if the very essence of this court implores me to embrace my true purpose, to seize control of my destiny without hesitation. The boldness of it all catches me off guard, stirring a sense of rebellion that courses through my veins like wildfire.

Pausing at the threshold, I find myself suspended between the tranquility of the wilderness behind me and the vibrant chaos of the court ahead. I hesitate, grappling with the weight of the choices that lie before me.

Eris slows his stride beside me, as if attuned to my uncertainty, and extends his arm—an offering both courteous and suggestive. His demeanor exudes confidence and assurance, as if he expects me to surrender to his lead without question.

But I refuse to yield to the expectations of courtly decorum. Chin held high, I meet his gaze with unwavering resolve, ignoring the disheveled state of my attire as I assert my independence. My feet remain firmly planted, refusing to advance until I am ready, on my own terms.

Eris's arm lingers in the air for a moment, a flicker of surprise crossing his features at my defiance. His amber eyes search mine, silently probing, yet beneath the scrutiny, I detect a glimmer of curiosity and… respect.

"I am quite capable of managing on my own," I declare, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging within me.

His expression softens, and he nods, gracefully retracting his arm. "As you wish," he concedes, gesturing for me to take the lead as we finally step through the threshold together.

The walk through the streets of Autumn was like stepping into a painting come to life. The cobblestone pathways wound gracefully between quaint buildings adorned with intricate carvings and vibrant splashes of ivy. Overhead, colorful banners fluttered in the gentle breeze, their designs depicting scenes of seasonal splendor and courtly festivities.

Stands and stalls lined the streets, each one a miniature wonderland of treasures waiting to be discovered. From intricately woven tapestries to gleaming trinkets and baubles, the offerings were as diverse as they were captivating. Merchants called out to passersby in melodious voices, their wares displayed with care and pride.

The smells that wafted through the air were a symphony of sensory delights. Spices mingled with the scent of freshly baked bread, their fragrances intermingling in a tantalizing dance that made my mouth water. Roasted chestnuts crackled and popped over open fires, their warm, nutty aroma floating on the breeze alongside the sweet perfume of ripe fruit and fragrant flowers.

Eris's sudden change in direction pulled me from my reverie, my gaze following his lead as we approached a magnificent structure nestled within the heart of the Autumn Court. The Forest House loomed before us, its grandeur and mystique commanding attention as we drew nearer.

Surrounded by a wrought iron gate, the house stood as a bastion of elegance amidst the bustling streets. Tall trees swayed gently in the breeze, their branches reaching out to embrace the ancient structure with a sense of reverence. Vines climbed the walls, their verdant tendrils weaving intricate patterns against the weathered stone.

The sight of the Forest House sent a shiver down my spine, a visceral reaction to the aura of power and mystery that seemed to emanate from its very core. It was as if the house held secrets untold, whispering tales of bygone days and forgotten legends to those who dared to listen.

"Wait!" I called out, the urgency in my voice halting Eris in his tracks. His steps faltered, and he turned to face me, a glint of amusement dancing in the depths of his eyes. The sunlight filtering through the canopy overhead cast dappled shadows across his features, lending an air of intrigue to his already enigmatic presence.

"Yes?" he inquired, his voice smooth and tinged with playful curiosity, his smirk hinting at secrets hidden just beneath the surface.

"What's going to happen to me? Where will I stay?" I blurted out, the fierce confidence I had summoned earlier dissipating like morning mist in the face of uncertainty. Nervously, I began to pick at my nails, the weight of the unknown pressing down upon me like a heavy cloak.

Eris regarded me with a knowing glint in his eyes, as if he had anticipated my question long before I had voiced it. "You will stay with me, of course," he replied simply, his voice carrying an air of nonchalance that belied the gravity of his words. There was a subtle confidence in his demeanor, a quiet assurance that spoke of his authority within the court.

I recoiled at his casual response, a surge of apprehension coursing through me. "But what about Beron? Won't he object to having a… a lowborn in his household?" I ventured cautiously, the weight of his father's disapproval looming like a specter in the back of my mind.

"Nonsense," Eris scoffed, his arms crossing over his chest in a dismissive gesture. "You are now a member of this court, and given your condition," he added with a subtle nod towards my abdomen, "it is only fitting that you reside in more suitable accommodations." His words were tinged with a hint of defiance, a silent challenge to anyone who would dare question his authority.

Despite his reassurances, doubt gnawed at the edges of my mind, uncertainty clouding my thoughts like a thick fog. "Absolutely not!" I protested vehemently, a surge of protectiveness coursing through me as I instinctively placed a hand over my stomach, as if to shield my unborn child from the absurdity of Eris's suggestion. "I refuse to stay in your chambers, Eris. It's… it's utterly preposterous."

Eris's eyebrow lifted slightly, his gaze holding a hint of amusement mixed with something darker. "Stubborn, aren't we?" he remarked, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "But if you prefer to sleep on the streets, far be it from me to stand in your way."

His words, though seemingly casual, carried a sharp edge that hinted at the depth of his cunning. It was a subtle reminder of his position of power, a reminder that I was at his mercy whether I liked it or not.

I bristled at his thinly veiled threat, my jaw clenching as I met his gaze with a glare of my own. "You wouldn't dare," I challenged, though a flicker of uncertainty danced behind my eyes.

Eris's smirk widened, the glint in his amber eyes turning predatory. "Try me," he replied, his tone dripping with promise and menace in equal measure.

With a frustrated huff, I reluctantly relented, realizing that I was in no position to defy him. "Fine," I conceded through gritted teeth, my hand slipping from my stomach to clench into a fist at my side. "But don't expect me to thank you for it."

Eris's smirk softened into a smirk, his gaze lingering on me with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. "Who said anything about gratitude?" he mused, his voice low and husky. "I'm merely extending a courtesy to a fellow refugee."

His words were laced with sarcasm, a reminder that his generosity came with strings attached. It was a stark contrast to the charming facade he wore, a glimpse of the ruthlessness that lay beneath.

I swallowed hard, a bitter taste rising in the back of my throat as I followed him towards the Forest House. It was clear that my time in the Autumn Court would be far from easy, but as I glanced back at the crumbling ruins of the Spring Court behind me, I knew that I had no other choice.

As we reached the grand doors of the Forest House, Eris turned to me with a smirk. "Welcome to your new home, little fox," he remarked, his tone dripping with irony. "Try not to get too comfortable."

My brows furrowed at his words, suspicion creeping into my mind. "What's the catch?" I asked warily, narrowing my eyes at him.

Eris chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. "Though I do have one condition," he said, his smirk widening into a grin.

"And what is that?" I asked, a sinking feeling settling in the pit of my stomach.

"You must walk with me once a day for the duration of your stay," Eris declared, his tone teasing yet firm.

My jaw dropped in disbelief. "You're joking," I exclaimed, disbelief evident in my voice.

Eris's grin widened, his amber eyes dancing with amusement. "Do I look like I'm joking?" he retorted, his tone challenging.

I narrowed my eyes at him, a surge of defiance rising within me. "This is ridiculous," I protested, shaking my head in disbelief. "I won't be your captive audience."

Eris's expression softened, a hint of something unfamiliar flickering in his eyes. "It's not about being captive," he said softly, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. "Consider it… a chance to explore the court, to clear your mind. Besides," he added with a smirk, "I could use the company."

I bristled at his suggestion, my pride warring with my better judgment. "And if I refuse?" I challenged, crossing my arms over my chest.

Eris's smirk widened, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Then you'll miss out on some truly breathtaking views," he replied, his tone teasing yet earnest.

I sighed in frustration, realizing that I was fighting a losing battle. "Fine," I relented, though the words tasted like ash on my tongue. "But don't expect me to enjoy it."

Eris's grin widened into a smirk, his eyes alight with amusement. "Oh, I have a feeling you'll come to enjoy it more than you think," he remarked cryptically, before turning to lead the way into the Forest House.

As Eris escorted me to the grand Forest House, his steps were measured, exuding an air of regal confidence that was unmistakably his. His fiery locks seemed to dance with each movement, and his amber eyes held a glint of mischief, hinting at the cunning that lay beneath his charming exterior.

Upon entering my chambers, Eris's gaze swept over the room with a critical eye, a subtle smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "I trust the accommodations meet with your approval, my lady?" he inquired, his voice smooth as honey but tinged with a hint of sarcasm.

I nodded, unable to suppress a smirk of my own at his thinly veiled jest. "They're quite lovely, thank you," I replied, matching his playful tone with one of my own.

Eris's smirk widened into a grin, his amusement evident in the curve of his lips. "Excellent," he remarked, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than strictly necessary before turning away to survey the room once more.

As I explored my new surroundings, I couldn't help but notice Eris's watchful gaze following my every move. It was as if he were sizing me up, gauging my reactions to the opulence that surrounded us. I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to him than met the eye, a depth of character hidden behind his charming facade.

Spotting the single daffodil on the table near the window, I couldn't suppress a chuckle at the sight. It was a quintessentially Eris gesture—playful yet meaningful, a subtle reminder of our earlier exchange. I picked up the note beside it, the elegant script a testament to Eris's attention to detail.

"I will be seeing you real soon, little fox. Wouldn't want you slacking off on our daily walks now, would we?" the note read, the teasing tone perfectly in line with Eris's mischievous nature. I couldn't help but smile at his audacity, the unspoken challenge sparking a flicker of excitement within me.

Setting the note back down, I turned to find Eris watching me with a knowing smirk, his amber eyes alight with amusement. "I take it you approve of my choice of decor?" he quipped, the smirk widening into a grin as he met my gaze.

I rolled my eyes playfully, unable to suppress a laugh at his antics. "It's certainly… unique," I replied, the hint of sarcasm in my tone mirroring his own.

Eris chuckled softly, a sound that sent shivers down my spine. "I'm glad to hear it," he replied, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than strictly necessary before turning away to hide the flush that crept across his cheeks.

TAGLIST

@purple-writer8 @defnotlucienvanserra @cherry-cin @julesofvolterra @mirandasidefics @mandziaaa @lilah-asteria @littlestw01f @skylarkalchemist @babypeapoddd

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lagoonalake · 4 months

Note

Could you do ideal type for Ateez please?

ATEEZ IDEAL TYPE

!!!Trigger warning!!! mention of depression and other heavy topics especially in Jongho's reading

SEONGHWA

Personality: 9 of swords, 7 of cups, 2 of pentacles

He tends to be drawn towards anxious types, people whose mind is a bit of a mess, chaotic or who feel overwhelmed and he wants to help them cut through the confusion with his assertive and decisive energy, make them feel safe. He is attracted to his opposite. In return this person would be more moderate than he is, more nuanced and realistic, more intellectual and communicative, this is someone who thinks a lot, too much actually. Thoughts are always swirling in their mind, and they can visualize so many possibilities that it’s hard to be more centered. This is giving genius energy a little bit, very intellectual. This is a person who is also quite fast paced and efficient, good at multitasking. air signs especially gemini and aquarius, mercury, virgo, cancer

Appearance: the hierophant, 9 of pentacles, the star

Traditionally beautiful according to Korean standards, slender, smooth pale skin, silky hair, well dressed, clean, sophisticated and who wear quality clothes, luxury brands, but nothing too flashy. Someone who can looks a bit vulnerable and sensitive, soft features, full lips, big kinda droopy puppy eyes, cute face. A mixture of innocence and a more corporate/classy sort of look. virgo, libra, capricorn, cancer

Turn offs: 7 of wands, temperance, 7 of pentacles

Masculinity, people who are domineering, unrefined. People with poker faces who don’t express any vulnerability and seem to be in complete control of themselves, who seem devoid of human emotions and act more like robots. He clearly prefers a more vulnerable, feminine type who needs his protection. It’s not (only lol) because of traditional gender roles, but because he has a genuine strong masculine energy to offer, so he wants someone who can appreciate that. aries, saturn, aquarius, capricorn, mars

HONGJOONG

Personality: the chariot, the star, the sun

Someone with a very positive energy, focused on the future, who wants to make the world a better place, to connect with people most likely through their art and creation, as this is definitely a very creative and artistic person. Deeply engaged in their cause, inspiring others and using their charisma and visibility for a good cause. Someone who has a very radiant, warm, shining presence, leadership skills, authority but always used in a guiding and protective way, never to dominate or put themselves above others. Someone who feels like a rush of energy. Bravely and boldly moving towards their goals undefeated. Passionately following their heart and ideals. Dynamic vibrant personality full of ideas and dreams. sagittarius, leo, aquarius, uranus, jupiter, pisces

Appearance: the tower, 4 of pentacles, the world

Someone with a big presence, who could even be big in some way physically, tall, wide. Who can have a incredibly intimidating yet incredibly reassuring presence that would wrap around him. Someone who most of the time is very awake, very vibrant yet very calm and stable, but you feel the heat boiling under the surface and if you piss them off then they would explode. Just a LOT of energy. A more masculine style, square jaw, strong bone structure, sturdy body, strength. Black hair, tan skin. sagittarius, leo, scorpio, capricorn, taurus, aries

Turn offs: 3 of cups, 9 of cups, the wheel of fortune

Laziness, people who leave everything to chance, who always had it easy in life and can just chill and wait for things to fall in their lap. People who don’t take action. Passivity. People without direction or vision in life. People who party all the time. negative pisces, neptune, taurus, leo, sagittarius

YUNHO

Personality: the devil, 10 of wands, 3 of wands

People who are very driven, potentially who could even become consumed by their ego and ambitions, quite selfish. The kind who could do pretty much anything to achieve their objective. This could be a specific person he’s currently involved with, but it’s also a pattern that repeats itself in his relationships. He also tends to let himself be taken by partners who use him because of his status to further their own career, people who seduce him, who are very sexually magnetic, but who hide this fierce and ruthless energy underneath a smoother more sensual facade. Vampiric people who suck him dry and exhaust him and who will get extremely defensive if he calls them out on their bs. negative libra, aries, leo, scorpio, pluto

Appearance: 9 of pentacles, 3 of pentacles, knight of swords

Sensual earthy beauty, very attractive body shape, curvy, alluring smile and laugh, I’m hearing giggling, but with something sharp in their eyes, smile, could have a seductive smirk, long nails… Coyness, something cunning about them, witty, a bit mischievous. Beautiful thick curly or wavy hair, burgundy/brown/gold/green earthy colors. Feminine sophisticated style, silk, velvet, lingerie. Elaborate makeup. Enticing perfume. Very lush overall appearance. venus, mercury, earth signs in general especially taurus

Turn offs: king of swords, 6 of pentacles, ace of wands

People who are cold, detached, too serious. Equality in relationships haha, he sees love as something all consuming, so there tends to be power imbalance in his relationships, it’s just not as intense and exciting if everything is perfectly healthy and balanced for him. Too much spontaneity or masculinity, someone who makes decisions. Although he tends to attract people who control him, they do it in an indirect way, not in a direct masculine assertive sort of way. giving him the illusion of being in control. aries, libra, aquarius

YEOSANG

Personality: king of pentacles, the empress, 6 of swords

I feel like he has this plan of a perfect life and marriage. Basically he intends to have enough money to then live in abundance in his big house with a very loving, beautiful doting partner. The image that comes to mind is of this serene, peaceful, quiet, dreamy, environment, surrounded by birds and flowers, nature and possibly having babies. He likes the idea of making a woman pregnant. Definitely he is attracted to a more traditional housewife sort of partner, someone beautiful, loving, kind, who would enjoy all the stability and riches he has to offer. He wants a calmer life after the chaotic idol lifestyle too, away from the entertainment industry. taurus, libra, cancer, virgo, pisces

Appearance: ace of cups, ace of wands, the fool

Definitely a youthful and expressive type. Possibly younger than him. Very innocent, spontaneous, a face that you can read like a book. Big, emotional eyes, sensitive, vulnerable, soft. But it become very noticeable when they get angry or embarrassed too, maybe they become red, have blood rushing to their face. Just very untainted, childlike sort of energy. NOT a poker face. Brighter colors, milky white skin. Petite. Likes a nice butt. Laughing eyes, just who laughes a lot in general. Could cry easily too. Feminine and cute. cancer, mercury, leo, aries

Turn offs: the hermit, 5 of cups, queen of wands

Cold, super private, somber types. People who are depressed, who have too much history, too much baggage. People who are not very sociable. Loners. Overly spiritual people detached from material life. People who are always negative, pessimistic, who are always complaining about something, always have a sad story to tell. People who are domineering, too independent, bossy, controlling. scorpio, saturn, pisces, sagittarius, mars

SAN

Personality: 9 of pentacles, page of pentacles, strength

A very strong, sturdy, physical type of person, more masculine energy. The type who could live in the countryside and cut wood without being afraid of breaking a nail or messing up their hairstyle. Tough, more rustic, hardy type of person. someone very grounded, who enjoys a simple lifestyle, but very stubborn, very opinionated. A simple person, bit loud, direct, not the most refined type. Funny. Someone with a specific routine, disciplined, organized. Someone who enjoys life and every pleasure it has to offer, hard working and hedonistic. Youthful and optimistic. A breath of fresh air who would help him relax and at the same time match his lifestyle and desires. taurus, leo, aries, jupiter

Appearance: 2 of wands, judgment, high priestess

Someone who would make a strong impression on him. Muscular and strong, especially when it comes to the legs. Intense aura, subtly seductive and who does not reveal their sexual energy but he’d be able to feel it very strongly. Apart from that strong physique (could be attracted to a dancer or an athlete) there isn’t much about looks and specific features I’m catching, mostly that this person is self assured, intense, has strong sexual energy but keeps it in control, and would magnetize him. I’m also getting that he tends to fall in love pretty quickly. mars, sagittarius, taurus, pluto

Turn offs: 3 of swords, knight of pentacles, king of swords

Someone who would betray him. Slow, cold, hyper controlled energy, someone who seems more machine than human. Someone detached, overly intellectual. Stubborn, boring, who never allows themselves to enjoy life. Someone manipulative, always strategizing and never sharing their thoughts. Lack of trust in relationships in general, he really prefers someone who is kinda chill, warm and open. saturn, aquarius, gemini, capricorn

MINGI

Personality: page of pentacles, 5 of pentacles, queen of pentacles

Very stable, grounded, patient individuals. Here again we have money as a theme. He wants to be a provider. So someone who can appreciate that, and who is good at managing money, organized. Calm, soothing energy. Secretary vibes. Very practical, efficient. Someone with integrity, devoted to him. Sensual, he wants his partner close. The physical and sexual connection is very important. Not just the sex but actually to be able to touch, hug, hold his partner. Someone who can handle his clinginess and reassure him. earth signs

Appearance: 6 of wands, justice, 2 of swords

Someone he can show off to the world, so who fits beauty standards in his own country and environment. Harmonious, balanced, symmetrical features. Classically beautiful. Could look a bit haughty or uptight, but very charming, lovely, agreable. Nothing too extreme, but still someone who stands out for their beauty. Slender, on the taller side or with “a small head/face”. The color white, white clothes, clean, flawless, immaculate. Someone with good manners, “proper”, polite, charming smile. libra, taurus, virgo

Turn offs: 7 of cups, death, 5 of swords

People who are disconnected from reality, delusional, people who are obsessive, too intense, destructive, chaotic, extreme (it’s giving sasaeng lol). Someone who would want to turn his life upside down, change everything, someone who is always in crisis mode, always going through transformation, has no stability. Someone always looking for a fight, always creating arguments and bringing up topics to kill the mood and bicker over. He isn’t that deep of a guy and prefers simplicity and ease in relationships. pisces, scorpio, aquarius

WOOYOUNG

Personality: the moon, knight of cups, queen of swords

Someone kinda hard to figure out, more shy and reserved, who has a gentle, sensitive, romantic, seemingly innocent quality. Yet someone who is not easily fooled and has strong boundaries. A bit frigid or virginal in appearance. It doesn’t mean that he wants to be with virgins only, but there is something pure and untouchable about his type. The kind of person who only let in the most deserving. Yet he wants to be let in. He’s not particularly deserving though. XD It’s kinda like this impulse that some guys have to break and corrupt the good girl, the proper woman. Could be someone who seems perfect, always in control, everybody thinks that they are so kind, so polite, so charming, yet he wants to see what’s behind the mask. Someone he would tease a lot, I sort of see him making crass jokes and the other person looking slightly offended but still finding it funny, that’s partly how he would charm them. He wants to see this person loosen up. virgo, libra, pisces, cancer

Appearance: 2 of pentacles, 4 of wands, 5 of cups

This could very well be a specific person. Because this fits the personality a lot. Someone who seems very balanced, looks perfect, marriage material, very in control, calm, poised, charming, popular even. Yet he can perceive a sadness and melancholy behind the mask that intrigues him. When it comes to looks and features, this person is traditionally beautiful, warm appearance, natural beauty, soft and kind face. Soothing gestures, just seems trustworthy and available to everyone,friendly, welcoming presence that people tend to gravitate towards. virgo, libra, pisces

Turn offs: king of wands, 9 of pentacles, 9 of cups

Showoffs. People who easily succumb to flattery. Always bragging about their achievements, their happiness, their possessions. Loud, attention seeking people. He’s going to tease them big time and call them out on their bs. People who have it easy in life, who have nothing to do all day but enjoy their luxurious lifestyle. Party people who expose themselves to the world. It’s not only that he finds it unattractive, but he finds it stupid and reckless, he thinks this is the perfect recipe to be used by others, and that these people are slaves to their egos, so he pities them a little and he knows how to play them like a fiddle. He is a very intelligent and intuitive guy, and he can be manipulative if he needs to, although he will try to preserve certain types of people that he will feel a bit protective towards. negative leo, taurus, neptune, pisces

JONGHO

Personality: 10 of swords, the moon, the star

He is attracted to people who need to be saved. Heavy energies. People who could have some kind of issue, maybe addictions, or suffering from depression, or who have been wounded, could even be someone who is physically limited in some way, someone who needs assistance. People who have it really really hard, and wouldn’t really be able to keep going without help. He wants to soothe and protect them, to heal them and give them hope again, to make them see the light at the end of the tunnel. These people are kind and have a lot of depth, they are ultra sensitive and possibly this is why they are not able to face the darkness and difficulties of the world. This is the kind of relationship that would go through a lot of ups and downs, mainly because of this person’s mind being unstable and fragile, but he would keep going and not abandon them. pisces, neptune, scorpio, pluto, saturn

Appearance: ace of swords, the hermit, king of cups

This seems again like a specific energy, an actual person he could be involved with. Someone who is kind of a loner, withdrawn, lonely, rarely seen surrounded by other people. The first impression that they give is kinda austere, somber. Features could be a bit pointy or sharp, austere. Could be underweight or sickly looking. Someone who has a lot of depth in their eyes. Very intense eyes. Could look a bit difficult to approach at first, a bit feral. But is actually soft. Could look restrained in some ways. Mature, calm, quiet expression. Deep and melancholic look. The color blue, dark blue, grey, black and white. Slow energy. Cold and cutting voice. saturn, scorpio, capricorn, pluto

Turn offs: the lovers, 6 of pentacles, the hierophant

So here again we have someone who doesn’t really like a relationship that is too balanced, with equal give and take. For him relationships are sacrificial, all of nothing. He is also drawn to people who need help, so anyone a bit too easy to deal with, too easygoing is not gonna going to keep his attention. Anything a bit too traditional isn’t very interesting either. libra, taurus, virgo

#ateez #ateez ideal type #ateez tarot #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #kpop tarot #kpop #kpop ideal type

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abibliophobiaa · 8 months

Text

Chapter Eight: Feels Like

summary: in the aftermath, revelations are made (7k words).

warnings: allusions to sex, medical complications.

eddie munson x pregnant!reader || strangers to friends to lovers, unplanned pregnancy, and then they were roommates, forced proximity.

masterlist | previous chapter, next chapter

——

I love you.

Three words. Three simple words — and yet the most terrifying ones. The ones that changed everything. That marked a turning point, a declaration, a fork in the road. On one side, turn back — run to safety, to what you knew, the easier route. On the other, push onwards, accept change — take a flying leap into the air with nothing but faith to catch you.

And the look, the look on Eddie’s face. The pure, unadulterated fear at the way your features couldn’t dare to hide the swimming emotions that choked off your airway. The face that had betrayed you as he cupped your cheeks in his hands and captured your tears with his thumbs — as his brows furrowed at the pout of your bottom lip.

“Sweetheart…”

But it was too late. Caught up in the moment or not, caught up in the bliss of a post-sex haze — he’d said the words and they were there now. Out in the open. He couldn’t just will them away, couldn’t pretend he’d never said them, couldn’t turn back the very hands of time.

“You love me?”

You whimpered. Felt your heart cleave down the center at the way his mouth mashed against your forehead, those broad arms of his curling you against his chest, right where you could feel his form trembling down to the bone marrow. Could hear the thunderous beat of his heart clamoring through the tee shirt your fingers bunched up within your palm.

“I —”

His mouth opened. Shut again. Opened once more to speak, to say something, to hopefully quell your screaming fears tumbling one after the other within your mind, but as he did so the doorbell rang. A resounding ring that offered the distraction you needed to drown out the disquiet in your soul.

You dressed in the silence that echoed within the room. Donned a pair of sleep shorts and pulled on your too-big hoodie. Padded down the hall with Eddie on your heels, slipper-covered feet clapping against the floor.

Before your fingers met the handle on the front door, Eddie called your name. Frowned softly as you whirled around to look at him, those lips of his marred by hurt you'd put there. Had never meant to — had never wanted to, but it happened all the same. With a slow exhale, you leaned up onto your toes and pressed the softest of kisses to his lips. Caught the hitched breath in the back of his throat.

As you pulled back, your resolve shattered at the brokenness there. At the way he regarded you like you were already distancing away from him — or maybe it was him distancing himself from you. Either way, you could see those walls building up behind his eyes. Watched as he erected the surface brick by brick to protect himself. Couldn’t even blame him, because you knew you’d done the same for months now.

Eddie went and opened the door at the second ring. Lingered behind as you shrieked when, there on the front step of your home, stood none other than Micah and Jeremiah, their bags in hand and car parked on the curb, seemingly packed for a day or two.

You were all a blur of limbs and tear-streaked cheeks, your arms looped around Micah’s neck, her arms around your waist. Her hand pressed to your belly when you stepped back, jumping up and down excitedly when Elena made her presence known. “There’s really a baby in there! Still can’t get over it.” She nearly squealed, as Jeremiah looped an arm around your shoulder and Eddie’s and tugged you both in close.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, not complaining, definitely not at all complaining. And even so, it was wholly unexpected. The last time you’d spoken with the girl, she’d been uncertain of if or when she’d be able to make it into town.

“Eddie invited us to stay with you two, actually. Wanted it to be a surprise,” Jeremiah said, clapping the man you’d been living with for months now on the shoulder gleefully. “Got yourself a good one here.”

I love you, Eddie had said. The words and the timbre of them, the way they sounded on his lips, filled your ears once again. Silenced everything else around you as Eddie helped lead your best friends further into his home and gave them a tour. You remained at Micah’s side, mind far away as you followed along with them, drawing comfort from the way Elena pushed at the palm you kept positioned over your midsection.

“You okay, babe?” Micah asked as you all settled down in the living room and the guys opened up cans of beer, sleep suddenly a thought pushed far away from your fatigued mind.

“Just in shock,” you muttered, far away, watching Eddie’s profile as he laughed at something your best friend’s boyfriend had shared. Eddie’s dark eyes met yours, and you heard it again: I love you. A mantra, a steady beat, a promise. “I just…can’t believe you’re here.”

Not a lie. Not quite, at least. And yet, Micah frowned. Reached over and laced her fingers within your own. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Not really. No. Not at all. You held your breath as Eddie offered you a weak smile — as you smiled back, knowing you needed a moment with him, and yet also acknowledging that now wasn’t the time. Not with your company for the next few days.

I love you.

His words screamed into that faraway, tucked-into-the-shadows shard of your heart. The place where the idea of ‘love’ had gone and ceased to be. The place where hurt had watered the seeds of resentment over the mere concept of it.

“No…no, it’s fine.” You assured her, and she seemed to accept the words, knowing better than to push you for answers. “Do you want to see what Eddie did with Elena’s room?”

A distraction.

You needed a distraction.

“Sure, babe,” Micah whispered, squeezing your hand tight as you excused yourselves from the room.

She didn’t press you any further.

——

May morning light streamed in through Eddie’s bedroom window. After hours of chatting with friends, you’d both made your way into the bedroom in silence, freshly washed faces and brushed teeth gleaming in the moonlight streaming through the gently parted curtains.

Neither brought up Eddie’s words. You wondered if it was for your benefit, or to protect his own heart. Like he couldn’t fathom seeing the look on your face once more, and the answer you’d unwittingly given by not saying anything at all. And even if you wanted to talk about it, you didn’t know how to bring it up now. The moment had passed, the harm was done, and the guilt that filled your heart overwhelmed every other thought you might have had in your mind. Because Eddie had gone and invited your best friends to Hawkins. He’d wanted to give you a slice of your home away from home, before your lives completely changed from what you once knew.

Even now, he held you close. The nearness of his body against your spine a comfort, a warmth you’d grown accustomed to, his breath dancing along the slope of your shoulder, where the strap of your nightgown had slipped down a bit. One of his broad hands rested against the curve of your hip, always seeking you out, always seeking touch — even in your sleep. When it happened, the endless need for close proximity, for touch, you weren’t certain, but it became familiar. As simple as breathing, even when love was not.

His other hand lay sprawled over the curve of your midsection. Rumpled up the silky fabric of your dress, edging the lace up higher on your thigh. Most mornings, he’d rouse you with kisses against every inch of you he could reach until you hummed into him, the press of him, hot and hard at your backside. Often you’d roll over, and then onto him, watching his umber eyes blow out dark, nearly black, with the rising sun as you sunk down onto him and rolled your hips over his. Other mornings, he’d wake you with his head between your thighs, or your mouth on him, a previously spoken agreement between both of you.

Today wasn’t like that. There were no long, drawn out languid kisses and wandering hands. No sighs as he inched his mouth along your throat, the huffs of his stuttering breath as your fingers slid beneath the band of his sweats, no pleas for more as his guitar string calloused fingers teased at your center.

Instead you were met with silence and persistent heartache over the memory of the flicker of pain that crossed Eddie’s features the night before.

Later, after an awkward exchange in bed wherein Eddie grumbled to himself he’d make everyone breakfast, you found yourself cornered at a local spa by your three best friends, their introductions full of giggling and excited energy. You were hardly surprised — Micah and Chrissy were very similar, two kindred souls, and Robin loved Micah from the moment they’d all met.

Still, it brought you joy knowing they all got along, their conversation easy as you all slipped into fluffy robes and sat around as massage therapists rubbed at your shoulders, eyes nearly closed from the bliss of it. Eddie had arranged the whole thing; a morning out with your closest girlfriends, getting your nails done, massages to follow. You’d gone with a pale pink on your fingers and a matching shade on your toes, similar to that of your daughter’s bedroom.

Eddie, who always went above and beyond to make you smile. Had given up room in his home, had been there for you the moment you told him you were having his baby, had stepped up in ways you’d never thought imaginable. Eddie, who loved giving the most of himself, had always done so for as long as you’d known him, who was still doing that now.

Elena was a lucky little girl. You both were. And it hurt you to dwell on it — the realization he’d done this, had planned it some time ago.

“We need to have an intervention,” Chrissy stated when you later arrived at a restaurant for an early lunch, her palms splayed over the table. “You’ve been in your head all morning. And don’t say you haven’t been, you have that little forehead wrinkle —”

“She does get a forehead wrinkle when she’s overthinking,” Micah added, nodding as she sipped at her mimosa. “I knew something was up last night. She’s been all giggly over the moon because of all the sex she’s been having, and suddenly it’s all grumbles and sad looks —”

“Well this just got interesting,” Robin mused, leaning back against her chair. “You didn’t tell us you and Eddie were christening his household.”

“You two are his best friends. I — it’s weird. And that’s…that’s not important,” you said hurriedly, tossing a french fry into your mouth. “I’m just…he just…hetoldmehelovedme.”

“I’m going to need you to take a deep breath and say that slower,” Chrissy said with an uneasy giggle, “because it sounded like you spoke another language for a second there.”

“He told me he loved me,” you told them, sipping at your cup of seltzer water, shrugging like you hadn’t just dropped a major declaration on them.

“Okaaaay, and?” Micah urged, waving a hand in front of her face impatiently.

Robin frowned. A soft and impossibly understanding looking thing that had her reaching across the table when your lips twitched downward. “Honey…”

“I didn’t say anything at all,” you admitted, fighting the urge to cry. Swallowed the watery sob that tickled the back of your throat. “He told me he loved me and I just…I sat there. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t speak — but it was too late. He looked so sad. And I feel terrible; I am terrible.”

When no one said anything, all around the table giving you looks with varying degrees of pity behind them, you continued, “I was scared. I'm still scared. What if he wakes up one day and decides I’m not what he wants anymore? What if he realizes he made a mistake?”

Chrissy exhaled, clambering up and off her chair to move to your side, arm looped around your shoulder. “Can we play the tape forward again?” She glanced at your friends, asking, “Don’t you think we should play the tape forward?” Micah nodded, Robin agreeing with a squeeze to your palm still curled within her own.

“Scenario one,” you said, exhaling shakily, “We continue this, he realizes this isn’t really what he signed up for, and he goes on his merry way. I have to watch him date other people, bring them around our daughter, and move on without me.”

Scenario one was always the negative route, and Chrissy nodded as you finished, offering you a comforting nod. “Okay, now scenario two,” she said, knowing it was her turn for her little exercise. “What if you two are it for each other? You raise Elena together, go on the road together, make new memories, fall deeper in love. You watch that little girl one day go off to college and start her own life, and you’re still just as in love, and maybe you’ve gone through some trials in your relationship since then, but doesn’t everyone? Isn’t every relationship worth fighting for? And you’re happy. Both of you are genuinely and completely happy and you’re together.”

“Also, Eddie isn't like those in your past. He’s not your family that walked away, not your friends who have come and gone, he’s not all those heartbreaks that have come before,” Micah added, offering you a kind smile. “I mean, he did all of this to make you happy. The man put together our whole outing and made sure Jeremiah and I had a place to stay while we were here. I think anyone who spent two minutes with you two could see how much that man loves you and your little girl…who isn’t even here yet.”

“Love shows up,” Chrissy said, “let Eddie show that he will.”

“Dingus Two found his girl,” Robin mused, poking fun at Chrissy’s husband with a cheeky grin. “But here’s the big question: do you love him?”

There it was. The question that had been plaguing you for weeks now. Did you love him? Did you love Eddie Munson? The easy answer, the one that came to your mind swiftly, was yes. A simple word, but along with it the heaviest of weights. You loved him — truly and deeply loved him. It had only taken a matter of weeks to fall for him, only a matter of weeks to solidify just what he’d meant to you, and a matter of weeks to realize what was at stake if you ever lost him.

“There’s your answer,” Robin teased, pointing at the small smile gracing your lips.

“God, I’m so stupid,” you groaned, curling a palm over your forehead.

“You’re not stupid,” Micah argued, running around the table to curl you and Chrissy into her embrace. “You just needed some time. You deserve this. You’re worthy of this. And I’m so proud of you, babe.”

Chrissy practically squealed as she rubbed at the tears collecting on your bottom lashes, all bright smiles and sparkling eyes. “I love you so so much,” she enthused, giggling brightly, “but…today isn’t over yet, and we’re on a time restraint. Eddie’s next request on your day of pampering is to find a dress, any dress, for dinner at my place.”

Your brows arched. “I have dresses back at our place —”

“He wanted you to pick out a new one,” Micah said, teasingly wagging her brows.

So with a renewed hope burning in your gut, your friends and you finished lunch, gathered your things, and headed to the department store where they tossed you dozens of dresses in search of the perfect one. And finally, as you laid a long black dress with daisies along the fabric along your form, you stepped out into the waiting area of the fitting room to three beaming faces, all of which cheering on your choice, your mind still whirling with the knowledge that Eddie had done all of this because he loved you.

And you loved him.

——

“No way…”

The words died on your lips as you walked out into the backyard after your girl friends and saw the array of people seated and chatting around the tables set out across the Harrington’s backyard lawn. There, along the interior of a tent set up above a table positively overflowing with baby gifts, was an archway of pink balloons, and against the table a hanging sign that said baby girl in pretty block letters.

And there, organizing packages against the table that partygoers handed him, was the man who was responsible for all of this. For your friends being here in Hawkins, for the evening you had with them at the spa and out for lunch, for the baby shower you’d just stumbled into.

Beside you, Robin, Chrissy and Micah were all glowing smiles. Little cheers and clapping hands as you took in your surroundings, from Steve and Jeremiah at the grill, to “the kids” seated around a table, waving as you entered, friends from work, Joyce and Hopper who you’d become friends with over the weeks, Wayne, who tipped a beer in your direction with a smile that crinkled at the corners of his mouth and eyes.

Eddie turned then, looking handsome as ever in a pair of ripped blue jeans and a black tee shirt that showed all of the tattoos you’d trailed your fingers over these last few weeks. He’d tied his hair back, little curled tendrils falling around the sides of his face, swaying in the gentle breeze as he walked your way and leaned down to kiss your forehead. Forehead, you noticed, with a pang of disappointment.

Still, your fingers curled in the front of his shirt, sandaled feet wiggling against the grass as you whispered, “Was this your doing?”

“Chrissy helped,” he said, gesturing to the blonde who merely mouthed that she loved you at Eddie’s words. “We invited all of the family.”

All of the family. Because when you glanced around the party parameters, family was all you saw. People who had been strangers months ago, and were now the ones you leaned on, the ones who loved unabashedly, the ones who had been there when no one else was. The ones you chose, and the ones who made you realize that, in a world of frequent hurt, there were people who would always walk beside you no matter what.

These people. And at the center of all of that — Eddie Munson.

“You didn’t have to do all of this —”

“I wanted to,” he said, brushing another kiss along your forehead. “We all did.”

“Now come on,” Chrissy said, practically bouncing on her toes as she rushed over to clasp your hand in hers, “there are guests to greet, and a special chair with your name on it for the mom-to-be. Let us spoil you!”

The evening passed in hazy pastel pinks that mirrored the sunset against the sky. Lilac purples as you pulled out baby girl outfit after outfit. Pretty olive greens on little sleepers and baby blankets. In dusty oranges, like the colors of the rainbow binkies, bibs and bottle tops you received.

Micah sat beside you writing down the endless things you got, while Chrissy and Robin giggled conspiratorially to themselves as they plastered the endless ribbons and bows on packages to a makeshift hat that you definitely knew would be atrocious by the end result.

Eddie lingered by Steve and Jeremiah at a lone table, his legs kicked out in front of him, arms crossed over his chest, a smile plastered on his face. It made your heart skip in your chest, watching him watch you. Made you want to run over and tell him the three words that rattled around in your brain all afternoon with every new gift opened.

You loved him, you loved him, you loved him.

Later, as Eddie pushed the gifted stroller you got, filled to the brim with packages, into his home you thought about telling him. The words bubbled up on your lips as he and Steve worked on unloading everything into Elena’s room. As you started to put away the things you knew you could, while you tossed all her new clothes into a hamper to be washed before she arrived.

Steve leaned over to give you a hug before he announced he was heading out for the evening, and Eddie thanked him with a clap against his back and a tight squeeze, before the man wished you both goodnight and offered a final congratulations for the little girl everyone had celebrated that evening.

You slipped into your shared bedroom in uncomfortable silence, Micah and Jeremiah driving back home to the city and leaving you with a quiet home once more. It had been a tearful goodbye, your hands on her cheeks and hers on your midsection as she promised she’d be back as soon as possible to meet Elena. Jeremiah had even whispered in your ear he’d gotten Micah a ring and, after you demanded him to show you, thanked him for being the best brother by choice one could have, and a loving soon-to-be uncle.

“I’m going to spend the night at my uncle’s…” Eddie announced as you clambered up and onto the bed, blankets tugged high against your thighs.

“What?” Your head tilted to the side, not quite understanding, even as Eddie grabbed a few of his things and began tossing them into a backpack.

“I just…I think I need a minute?” He swallowed thickly, and your heart ached with it. With the understanding of what he was saying. “Just — just need to, ah, clear my head, you know?”

“Eddie, I…”

But you understood. Had seen the look on his face clear as day — the hurt there. He’d laid his heart out for you, gave you the power to do with it as you would, and you’d remained quiet. In your silence, he’d gotten his perceived answer.

“Just for the night,” he stated, a pair of his sweats tossed into the bag with a ratty old band tank top. “I’ll see you when I get off from work tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay…” You said, even thought it was far from okay.

None of this was okay.

You wanted to scream, to cry, to shout that you loved him. And even so, you knew now wasn’t the time. Not when he’d already made up his mind, stewed in his hurt, and ached with the full force of it. He was allowed all of what he was feeling — deserved to sit in his emotions and their fullness.

Still, it did nothing for the sting of rejection in your gut as you followed him down the hall, watching his backpack thump against his narrow back. Did nothing to quell the ache in your chest when he turned around and cupped your cheek in his palm, eyes dark and focused on yours, full of love and sadness all the same. Leaning up onto your toes, you brushed your lips against his, the barest of touches, a shuddered breath falling from your softly parted lips.

For a moment his resolve wavered, hands pulling you closer, breathing a little ragged. Flickered across his features as he leaned back down and kissed you again. But your fingers reached up and gently rubbed along his sternum, forehead nuzzling against his, and he took a step back, fingers curling around the front door handle.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, night pouring into the home, anguish seeping into your blood.

“See you tomorrow,” you muttered back a little brokenly, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as he slipped out and shut the door behind him. “I love you.”

A whisper, a little too late, but not at all untrue.

And then, without Eddie’s laughter and voice to fill the home, silence.

——

Something wasn’t right.

Then again, a lot hadn’t been right since Eddie walked out last night to spend the rest of his evening at Wayne’s. Waking up had been miserable with the lack of Eddie’s warmth along your back. That and you missed the sound of his voice, that first slow breath he always let out when he leaned over and kissed you long and gently, like he’d poured all of the time he’d spent missing you in his dreams along with it, overflowing with emotion.

But this wasn’t just the persistent ache in your chest that had been there since Eddie closed the door behind him. This was a cramping feeling that throbbed low against your stomach, like your menstrual cramps but stronger. Breath falling from you in a groan, you walked over to the front desk library check out area, hand on your back, your coworker, Holly’s, eyes nervously fixed on your face.

“That’s five,” she pointed out, sliding out a chair and rolling it over for you to sit down on. Once seated, her hand curled around your shoulder, a contemplative look on her features, “I think you need to get out of here and go to the hospital. I’ll take care of everything —”

“I can’t,” you gritted out through clenched teeth, wincing at the pain, “It’s too early. I'm only thirty weeks.”

“Exactly why you need to go,” she said, and you nodded because you knew. “Please, just…get checked out. We can take care of everything around here.”

You tried calling Eddie at the nurses office, but the phone only continued to ring, the guys likely in the back working. Tried again when Steve popped his head in and said Chrissy would take you to the hospital, hugging you when you’d whimpered you were scared. Tried a final time when you got to the hospital, terrified when you were immediately hooked up to various monitors and pricked with what felt like dozens of needles.

“It’s going to be okay,” Chrissy reassured you, when the doctor’s said they needed to keep you there to try and stop what looked to be preterm labor. Words that terrified you, because they were the ones that immediately dropped like lead in your stomach, worry for Elena tightening your chest. Choked off your breathing. “And he’ll be here soon, okay? Robin raced over there to get him. You’re going to be just fine, I promise.”

Her fingers swept back and forth over your knuckles, words a comforting whisper that quelled the frantic beat of your heart in your ribcage.

Mind whirling with thoughts, you closed your eyes and tipped your head to the ceiling, trying to breathe deep. Elena would be okay — she wouldn’t come today. Everything would be absolutely okay. The doctor’s were going to do their best to make sure of it. Chrissy was here, you weren’t alone, everything was fine, and Eddie would be here soon.

——

To say Eddie Munson hated hospitals was an understatement. The last time he’d been here, him and his mother had gone in, and only one of them made it out. This time, the two most important people in his life were here, one of which was likely scared out of their mind and he’d been gone. He’d left and something had gone wrong; he’d left and regretted it from the moment he’d closed the door. Had almost turned back around and rushed back into the house, claiming your lips with his, wanting you laying prettily against a mountain of pillows on his bed so he could whisper he loved you into your mouth once more.

But he hadn’t. He’d driven away and watched his house grow smaller in the distance, slept at his uncle’s, and missed your phone calls when you’d needed him the most. Had nearly shit himself when Robin rushed in without warning, earning the attention of all his coworkers, and said you were in the hospital.

“I need —” Eddie rasped out through frantic breaths as he greeted the front desk worker, chest rising and falling rapidly. He gave your name, at which the woman asked who he was to you, and he quickly added, “Husband. I’m her husband.”

The walk down the hall seemingly shaved years off of his life. Heart thundering away along the pale walled hallway, shoes tapping against the floor. He hadn’t had a chance to change, hair still pulled back, jumpsuit still on. Oil stained his fingers black, despite the hard scrub he’d given them before leaving for the hospital.

As he entered, his heart squeezed at the sight of you in a gown, an IV in one hand, a cuff around the other bicep, all teary eyed as he appeared in the doorway.

You’d barely managed to open your arms fully to him when he rushed forward and curled you into his arms, hand cupped around the neck to draw you into the safety of his chest, rocking you back and forth as you weeped into the fabric of his tattered jumpsuit.

“I’ll give you two a moment,” Chrissy murmured, backing up out of the room, “I’m going to call Steve and Robin. They’ll want an update.”

As soon as she left, Eddie pulled back a bit and cupped your face in his hands. Brushed a kiss to either side of your cheek and rubbed at the tears that had spilled down your face. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I’m so sorry.”

“You’re here now,” you whispered, leaning your forehead against his.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He promised, his kiss on your lips bruising, and yet you sighed into it all the same, urging him onward. Gripped him tighter, his tee shirt hidden beneath his jumpsuit fisted in your palm. “Never again. I promise. I love you, I love you, and I’m so fucking sorry and I’m so —”

“I love you, too,” you whimpered into his neck. He pulled back, hearing the hitched breath you let out. The sob that followed. “I’m scared out of my mind, because of what you mean to me, but I’m going to be brave because this is worth it — and I love you. I wanted to tell you yesterday but —”

He kissed you again, urgent and searing. Felt you melt into his frame, arms looping around his neck, curling into the hairs at the back of his head. The heart monitor near the hospital bed spiked, and he grinned to himself against your lips, feeling your chuckles against his skin. Your sides shaking where he cupped them in his palms, the sides of his thighs pressed against yours, body leaning as much as he could over yours with the elevated bed.

“You love me?”

“Yes,” you giggled brightly, your smile splintering his heart into a million shining pieces, “I love you, you dork.”

God, he could stay like this forever. Pressed his forehead against yours, fingers laced with yours in your lap, breathing in the space between you two. Relishing in the comfort of the newness of love — basking in it. But a knock sounded at the door and Eddie was reminded of why you were here. Fear had him shifting on the bed, his mouth pressed to your knuckles as the doctor explained their course of treatment. You’d be staying under observation, medicine already ran through your IV in hopes of stopping things from progressing any further. Prognosis looked good, which had Eddie and you beside him exhaling deeply in relief. Otherwise, outside of the scare, Elena looked perfect.

He remained at your side for the next twenty four hours, only stepping away when nurses came in to check yours and Elena’s vitals every so often. Chrissy and Steve popped in to check on the both of you, offering to bring in food or a change of clothes or whatever else you needed.

Even Wayne and the kids had stepped in, running over to Eddie’s to clean up the place so that when you went home, you’d be able to get to rest.

Bed rest, that was. For the next few weeks, however long Elena decided to stay put, you were on ordered bed rest. Eddie thought your pouting adorable when the doctor had told you all the things you wouldn’t be able to do. Had held your hand when you whined about it after, not wanting to cut out of work just before the school year had ended (you’d grown fond of the kids). You’d also gone on to grumble about how you weren’t allowed any strenuous activity, head pressed against the dashboard in his car when you’d later come to realize that also included any sexual activity as well.

“It’ll be okay. It’s only a couple of weeks,” Eddie said, running a hand along your back when he pulled up in front of his house, kiss after kiss dropped against your temple. “Come on now, got to get you into bed. Doctor’s orders.”

“You’ll stay with me?”

“You’re not getting rid of me,” he promised, opening his car door and rushing around to greet you on the other side. “Except for when I have to work, but then Chrissy and Robin and the kids will be taking shifts.”

“You all really don’t have to do this,” you said, easing yourself down onto the ground, squeezing Eddie’s hand in yours. “I’ll be okay on my own for a bit.”

“I know that, but you don’t have to be. We want to help; we love you.” He laughed, coaxing you in front of him along the walkway. “Plus, you need to slow down. The doctor said so.”

Inside, Eddie watched your face light up as you walked down the hall and slipped inside his bedroom. He peeled back the comforter and tucked it around your hips once you settled down, before rushing around the other side and slipping in beside you.

His hand glided up and over your hip as you shifted to face him, along the curve of your waist, across the span of your arm, and then rested on the hinge of your jaw. Warmth seeped into his fingers, your lips soft against his when you leaned over to kiss him. As if you still couldn’t believe he was there, like you expected him to vanish, like you hadn’t fully realized he’d be yours forever if you’d let him.

And then, as your eyes started to droop in tiredness, you asked, “You love me, Eddie?”

He pressed a kiss to your cheek. “I love you.”

The other cheek. “I love you.”

Your forehead. “I love you.”

Your chin, where you giggled. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he whispered, running his nose down the length of yours.

He’d reassure you every day if he had to, helping to heal your heart piece by piece — to prove to you that people stayed.

That people still chose love everyday and meant it.

Stay, when his father hadn’t.

Stay, when his mother hadn’t been able to.

He’d do it all just to have you here, like this.

——

Late June, Six Weeks Later…

——

“Why the pout?” Eddie asked, wandering into the living room where you were presently wrapped up in a blanket, thankful for the AC blowing frigid air into the heated home.

“I tried to go for a walk and couldn’t see my feet. I called Chrissy to see if she’d be able to help me, but then we ended up making ice cream sundaes instead.”

“Baby, you haven’t seen your feet in weeks,” Eddie said, dropping down onto the couch beside you, palm running over the hill of your midsection, still in awe as ever that he’d be meeting his daughter in just a few weeks.

“That’s mean.” You pouted.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, a gentle kiss brushed against your lips, “Also, it sounds like your day was better than mine.”

“Hardly,” you huffed out, snuggling into his side, “it’s the same as the past six weeks. I wake up, I say goodbye to you, someone comes to visit, I walk to the bathroom to pee seventy five times, I go to bed.”

“Only a little while longer now,” Eddie promised.

But he knew it had been hard. The initial days were an adjustment. For someone who’d been used to doing all the time, you’d had a hard time adjusting to being unable to do many of the things you’d done before the scare.

It helped that Micah and Jeremiah got engaged soon thereafter; gave you something to focus on, something to be excited about. After that, you enjoyed the company of the kids. Mike, El and Will would come over and play cards with you. Dustin and Suzie would bring board games, and you’d argue with Dustin when he assumed you were cheating (bedrest had just made you really good at board games). Max and Lucas checked in, back in town on a visit. Joyce and Hopper brought food. Steve and Chrissy popped in with Melody. Robin came with Vickie, always with new gifts for their new niece (no matter how often you reminded them she had enough clothes).

Soon enough, you became stir crazy. Resorted to working on puzzles, coloring in coloring books, watching your favorite movies over and over again. Walks were limited — not more than a few minutes allotted, just to make sure you didn’t overexert. That, and Eddie watched you like a hawk. Wanted to make sure you were okay at all times.

Part of you wanted to find it annoying, but it only endeared you to him further. Being in love with Eddie was easy. So easy you wondered why you’d feared it at all in the first place. He was attentive and doting, affectionate and patient, hilarity ensued and yet grave when he needed to be.

As much as you hated being stuck inside for the past six weeks, you’d loved that intimate time spent with Eddie, enjoying the fullness of your relationship before Elena’s arrival.

“Come on, let’s get in bed,” Eddie mused, climbing up off the couch, extending a hand your way.

“I need a solid cuddle,” you grumbled, hand on your lower back as he helped you up on wobbly feet. “My back is all crampy today.”

“You’re cramping?” he asked, sounding a little worried, his voice growing softer.

“It’s nothing,” you reassured him, rubbing at the place that twinged once more, “Just discomfort of being a million weeks pregnant with your restless kid.”

“Oh, so she’s my kid now?”

“She is when she stomps on my bladder like she’s at one of your metal shows,” you teased, slipping beneath the covers of the bed. “Can you believe we’re the same two people who met on Halloween?”

“Honestly?” He crawled in next to you, fingers trailing along your temple. A light kiss pressed against your lips. “I wanted you from the moment I saw you, Buttercup. Maybe we skipped a couple of steps along the way, but I wouldn’t change any of it.”

“I wouldn’t either.” And it was true. All the imperfections, the hurdles, the joy and laughter, the good and bad — you’d do it all again to get to this point. “I love you, Eddie.”

You said it all the time now. Randomly throughout the day, over dinner, in the morning, cleaning dishes in the afternoon. The words were still new, still so precious to you. Just as the man who held them near to his heart was.

“I love you, sweetheart.”

It was a whisper against the crown of your head as you rolled over, smiling at the familiarity of his arm slinging around your form, his chest against your back. Your anchor, for months now, as you slipped into rest.

Hours later, however, you woke to the bed feeling wet, Eddie’s hand against your shoulder, your head spinning from the pain that ached low, eyes blinking rapidly to adjust to the bedroom lamp being turned on abruptly.

You winced, and Eddie ghosted a kiss against your temple. “Eddie…” The searing pain followed, cutting off the rest of your statement.

“You think it’s time?” he asked, swallowing back the groan forming in the back of his throat as your fingers curled around his fingers and squeezed hard, the bones sliding together painfully. “Right — right, dumb question. Ow. Let me grab the hospital bag. You stay there, don’t move.”

It wasn’t like you wanted to anyway.

Panicking, he rushed around the room gathering your things. Tossed the hospital bag onto the bed, along with your slippers. He traded his sweats for a pair of jeans and pulled his hair back, as you slipped on a hoodie over your sleep shorts. When another pain lanced through you, you hunched over the bed a bit, gripping Eddie’s forearm as he appeared at your side.

“You have everything?” you asked through gritted teeth, straightening as the pain started to subside.

“Diaper bag, change of clothes for us, car seat…” he rambled off, coaxing you to walk down the hall, “the woman I love —”

“That was corny,” you laughed, sniffling at the tears that formed in your eyes when he opened your car door for you once outside.

His thumb brushed at your cheek. “Just trying to keep a smile on that face, Buttercup.”

As you buckled yourself in, he rushed around the back, clipping in the car seat like Steve had shown him a couple weeks ago. The hospital bag was tossed in beside it and the door shut, your eyes following his form as he darted around the vehicle and got in your front driver’s side. He still hadn’t fixed his van, so your car would be the baby mobile for a bit.

As he settled down, a kiss was dropped to your forehead and a palm cupped your cheek, those dark eyes of his searching your weary, fear-stricken face. “Ready to meet our girl?”

“I’m ready.”

——

our happiest little epilogue is next. thanks for being patient, i have been having a hard time again health wise, but you all make it less daunting. 🥹🩷

#lunaloveseddie #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x pregnant!reader

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jungkookschin · 3 months

Text

demigod trials: icarus falls | three

synopsis: you met jungkook at camp half-blood when you were 10 years old. since then, your fates have been infinitely intertwined.

word count: 7k

pairing: son of ares!jungkook x daughter of hephaestus!reader

genre: camp half blood au, percy jackson au, demigod au, childhood friends to lovers, exes to lovers , enemies to lovers, jungkook is sooo in love

warnings: multiple mentions of deaths, dangerous quests, QUESTS TO TARTARUS, violence, killing, monsters, ANGST, this chapter is fluffy tho, nct mark as a son of hephaestus, enhypen jungwon as son of ares, broken friendships

demigod trials masterlist

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter 3.5 | chapter four

With a gulp, Jennie addresses the assembly through the microphone. “Hades, my father, has lost his reign over the Underworld. The primordial god Tartarus has plunged the Underworld into chaos and is plotting to ascend to the surface, aiming to annihilate both demigods and gods.”

Her gaze shifts towards you and Jungkook. "He has somehow taken control of my body, sending me vivid and disturbing dreams. He's furious and demands a sacrifice – a sacrifice of the demigods who once intruded into Tartarus six years ago. If we don't comply, he threatens to rise to Earth through the surface of Camp Jupiter, annihilating Camp Jupiter completely upon his return."

Every single eye in the room flickers towards you and Jungkook.

At that moment, incomprehensible dread permeates your system. Like a broken cassette player, memories of your little vacation to Tartarus rewind in your head: drinking from the river of fire, the child eating demon Lamia, Damasen the friendly giant, and so much sheer terror you wouldn’t have survived without Jungkook’s protection.

However, the anxiety, the dread- it’s bearable.

Your window of tolerance has extended to Mount Olympus after narrowly escaping the clutches of death multiple times.

“So what?” Jungkook responds, “You gathered the whole assembly here to announce that you’re sacrificing Y/N and I? A heads up would’ve been nice,” His features are hardened, and the glare he sends Mina and Mingyu, the Praetors of the Roman Legion, is terrifying, resembling his father Ares.

“Jungkook,” Mina seethes, “Do you know how many people live here in Camp Jupiter? There are thousands of children, elderly, and innocent people who live on these grounds. We must publicize the threat and ensure that it is taken care of, for the safety of the camp.”

“And how do you think Camp Half-Blood will feel?” Namjoon intervenes, “You think they’re going to be happy that you sacrificed two of their head counselors? I guarantee you. You don’t want to fuck with us.”

Mina narrows her eyes at Namjoon. “Is that a threat?”

“It’s a warning,” Taehyung immediately steps in, rigidly serious aura clouding his eyes, “We’re not letting you touch Y/N or Jungkook. Camp Half-Blood will go to war over this.”

“Okay everyone chill,” Mingyu arbitrates, his booming voice echoing off the walls, “If there’s a way we can resolve this without sacrificing Y/N and Jungkook, we’ll take that way. 1000%. That’s why we’ve gathered: to discuss.”

Eunwoo, son of the Roman god Mars, clears his throat. “My wife is pregnant. We need to do everything we can to negate this threat. Look, I’m not comfortable putting lives on the line so what about evacuation? We can evacuate the entire city and rebuild somewhere else.”

“No,” Jennie cuts in, a tremor running through her body. “He’ll follow us- wherever we go- he’ll ascend to the surface and kill us all.”

Mina tilts her head, “Any other ideas?”

“Oh fuck you,” Rose scoffs, “You’ve lost yourself. Completely. Being Praetor doesn’t mean rejecting all your morals. You called an entire assembly here to announce you were going to kill two of your best friends? You sure Venus is your parent and not Narcissus?” Rose cocks her head to the left, raising her eyebrows in anticipation for Mina’s response.

“You-”

Mina doesn’t get a word in because Jennie’s body falls onto the concrete with a thud. Immediately, her eyes and mouth emit a red glow. The glow rapidly intensifies, transforming into a blazing red glow from her eyes and mouth.

Like a possessed spirit she ascends into the air and to middle of the Senate House. Her mouth begins to move, and Tartarus himself begins speaking through Jennie.

“Demigods, behold," the resounding voice sends shivers down your spine.

"I have at last arisen from my slumber, seizing dominion over the Underworld," an ominous cackle reverberates through the walls. "The offspring of Hades have been severely weakened, now feeble and enfeebled. You are next. Offer the children of Ares and Hephaestus, who dared encroach upon my realm, as sacrifices, and I shall spare your lives, permitting you to become my slaves after I claim dominion over the world. Refuse, and face your demise."

The red glow disappears from Jennie’s face and she plummets back to the ground before Mingyu catches her.

Mina’s features harden. “Jungkook, Y/N! You have the rest of the day to bid goodbye to your families and friends. At midnight, we will personally arrest you to prepare a sacrifice to Tartarus. That is the best we can do for now. Meeting dismissed!” She roars, before marching out the Senate House.

Mingyu shoots you an empathetic look before following Mina’s lead.

Annd to think, you didn’t get one word in before it was decided that you were to be thrown on the altar as a sacrifice.

Immediately proceeding the meeting, you take the portal from Camp Jupiter to Camp Half-Blood.

You, Taehyung, Namjoon, Rose, and Jungkook skirt through the sides of strawberry fields, past the pegasi stables, until you reach the cabins. The sun sets beyond the horizon and the sky is arrayed with hues of purple, orange, and pink.

Your fingers are intertwined with Rose’s, and she is seething in disdain over Mina’s behavior. You’re the one who wields fire manipulation, but you’re a little scared she’ll burst into flames.

“Gods, when did she turn into such a bitch?” Rose seethes, squeezing your hand hard enough for your bones to crack.

“Rosie, it’s okay,” you offer, “I died once. Who cares if I die again, right?”

At that, the three men in front of you stop in their tracks, whirling around to blink at you incredulously.

“Y/N, you’re not funny,” Taehyung frowns.

“I’m not trying to be funny,” you deadpan in return, “Isn’t it true? It’s not like I’m going to the Fields of Punishment. I’ll be in Elysium and we’ll eventually reunite there-“

“Okay,” Jungkook intervenes, “Then kill yourself right now.”

“What-“

“If your life doesn’t matter, then kill yourself right now,” Jungkook repeats, unsheathing his Celestial Bronze knife- the very knife you forged when you were ten- before offering it to you.

You remain still, and Jungkook re-sheathes his knife. “Exactly.” His voice is stern, but delicately infused with the right amount of warmth. “Y/N, there are people who love you. There are people who need you here, so don’t take your life so lightly. Okay?” His features soften and he turns back around, “Now let’s head to the Hades cabin.”

Jungkook surges forward and Rosie has to tug you in his direction to get your feet moving.

She side eyes you, verbal communication not necessary when her eyes tell all, full of pure skepticism. You shake your head, following Jungkook’s lead towards the Hades cabin.

Upon arrival, Namjoon knocks on the door to no avail. The Hades cabin has an eerie and somber appearance, constructed completely from dark stone. Skulls adorn the door frame, and an even larger skull embellishes the cabin above the entrance.

After its initial construction, the cabin’s somber presence sent chills down your spine. Now, everyone seems largely unfazed as Namjoon persistently bangs on the entrance, impervious to its eerie aura.

“Okay, fuck it,” Namjoon grumbles before kicking down the door. You and Rosie yelp, flinching at the thud before entering the cabin.

To your surprise, an eerie emptiness greets you — not a single soul is there.

The cabin’s interior directly mirrors its exterior. It’s characterized by dim lighting, dark décor, and symbols associated with the Underworld.

While the Hades cabin is one of the least populated cabins in Camp Half-Blood, it’s unusual for none of the members to be present.

The five of you conduct a thorough investigation of the cabin, flipping over mattresses, looking under shelves- just to realize that there are no traces of anybody ever living in it. It’s like a ghost cabin.

You repeat the process with the 18+ Hades cabin to no avail. Both cabins are completely inhabited.

Taehyung settles on one of the mattresses and rests his head in his hands. “Fuck guys- these are kids we’re talking about- where did they go?”

As far as you know, there are only six kids in the Hades cabin: two in the 18+ cabin and four in the cabin for minors. Jennie and Soobin are the only adults, whereas Hyein, Ni-ki, Danielle, and Ricky inhabit the cabin for minors.

Tartarus said it himself: “The offspring of Hades have been severely weakened, now feeble and enfeebled”

Where could they possibly be? Without a shred of doubt, you know that there must be a quest: a quest to locate the children of Hades. Jennie’s current state- deteriorating weakness that rendered her unable to stand or exist without exasperating herself- was already a bad sign.

It hurts to think about what may have happened to the others.

The five of you exchange ominous looks before breaking to the Big House to discuss the present situation with Chiron.

“Chiron,” Taehyung cuts in, “Mina and Mingyu didn’t have any qualms about sacrificing Y/N and Jungkook. I think that’s enough to cut ties.”

You shrug, “I don’t know. Mingyu looked like he kinda felt bad.”

All eyes in the room flicker towards you incredulously. “Y/N. This is serious,” Namjoon scolds. “We lost you once and we’re not about to lose you again. Chiron, we must employ every defense mechanism to keep Y/N and Jungkook safe,” he implores.

“What matters more is finding those kids!” Rose interrupts, “How old is Hyein? She’s like 13. It’s our responsibility as older demigods to look out for them. We have to do whatever we can to find them.”

“Even if that means sacrificing Y/N and Jungkook?” Taehyung questions, “We have to find the sweet spot: saving the kids, preserving Camp Jupiter, and keeping Jungkook and Y/N safe,” he enunciates.

“Which is why we need to employ defense mechanisms,” Namjoon argues, “to at least buy us time so we can figure out where the Hades kids are. Then we can spring into action.”

“But that’ll just lead us to war,” you argue, “For the first time in a millenia, the Greeks and Romans have peaceful relations. We can’t do anything to jeopardize that-”

“Yea, well I care about you more,” Taehyung intercedes, “I care about you more than the Romans and more than the Hades kids, so I choose you. Fuck everybody else,” he shrugs, and you meet eyes with Namjoon, turning red at Taehyung’s words.

Greek heroes were known to have fatal flaws: a fundamental imperfection , vulnerability, or moral weakness that, despite the hero’s strength, ultimately contributed to their tragic fate. Jungkook already confessed to you that his fatal flaw is love.

With Taehyung, you already knew. His fatal flaw is his blind loyalty to his friends. He’d watch the world burn if it meant keeping his friends safe.

“While the chivalry is appreciated,” Chiron adds, “It is imperative to do the right thing, objectively. Ask yourself, is it moral to declare war on the Romans? Is it moral to abandon the children of Hades? Is it moral to sacrifice Y/N and Jungkook? Child of Apollo, what do you think? You are of Roman descent and are able to offer a unique perspective.”

All eyes flicker towards Rose, who accepts the challenge. “We can’t declare war on the Romans,” she argues, “Y/N is right. We all know what happens when Greeks and Romans go to war. People will die and the world will probably go up in flames. But that doesn’t mean we can’t trick the Romans,” a mischievous smile creeps onto her face and she bites her lip.

Jungkook speaks up. “I have a plan.”

You tilt your head at Jungkook. His features are hardened- rigidly serious at the prospect of what could be going on.

His brows are furrowed in angry little Nike swooshes and all you wanna do is run your thumb over his brow to ease its arch.

He turns his head to you, his right hand man, and his features soften, like he’s signaling to you that everything will be okay.

WIth a deep breath, he explains the plan definitively. The way he speaks, the way he commands the attention and obedience of everyone in the room makes it seem like you don’t have a choice but to follow this plan.

At that moment, Jungkook’s little brother Jungwon and your little brother Mark step into the Big House.

Within the past year, Jungwon seems to have skyrocketed in height. He looks so big, for lack of a better word- nearly the same stature and height as Jungkook.

Mark grins at you, his cute features beaming with a sense of readiness- to accept any and every challenge. “Hey sis, welcome back. How was Olympus?”

He envelopes you in a hug, and as happy as you are to see your brother, you can’t help but eye him with a hint of skepticism.

Suddenly you connect the dots and your face falls. “No,” you express grimly.

“Yes,” Jungwon cheekily responds, throwing an arm around you.

The kid is lightyears taller than you now, and you hate it.

What Jungkook proposed- you also hate it. It’s the worst plan in the history of the universe and you want to sew his pretty lips shut so he’ll never speak again.

Jungkook’s plan involves offering a sacrifice to Tartarus- and it won’t be either you or Jungkook.

He professes to sacrifice decoys- and at first you’re on board because you’re confident that you can engineer mechanical versions of yourselves- but when Mark and Jungwon make their entrance, the gears in your brain begin churning.

“Does it make sense for us to send our siblings as sacrifices? We ourselves might as well go to Tartarus. What difference does it make?” you argue, frowning deeply and glaring spathas into Jungkook’s face.

When it comes to you, Jungkook’s mind always automatically masks your anger in a dewy haze. All he sees is a pretty girl pouting at him, and he has to choke a smirk back so you don’t actually stab him with a spatha.

Jungwon smirks, “It makes all the difference. We all know that you and my brother are the best duo Camp Half-Blood’s seen. We need you to figure shit out while Mark and I distract Tartarus.”

Your jaw drops. There was no way the sweet, kind, polite Jungwon just cursed in front of Chiron.

You whip your head towards Mark. “I don’t feel comfortable with that,” you state, “I’m not sacrificing my little brother so I can be free. That’s pure cowardice.”

Mark shakes his head.

“It’s not,” he declares, “I wouldn’t be willing to sacrifice myself like this if I wasn’t capable of being a good distraction.”

With that, he fishes for something in his pocket before pulling out a remote. He presses a bright red button, causing mechanical wings to erect from his backpack as Mark starts flying around the Big House.

“See? I’m a pretty good distraction! And I’ve got plenty of tricks up my sleeve!” he grins.

Jungwon points to a flying Mark before shrugging smugly. “So Y/N, what do you think?”

“Guys, this isn’t a fucking joke,” you scold, turning more rigid by the second. “Tartarus.. it’s a horrifying place. And quite frankly, I don’t think either of you are capable of surviving his domain.”

Mark lands on the ground next to Jungwon, expression now shrouded with concern.

“Y/N,” Mark argues, “We’re prepared,” he claims.

“Since you came back from the dead- like Jesus or something- I’ve been studying your journals on Tartarus, and Y/N, we’re prepared. Jungwon is the strongest warrior of our generation- he and I are a good team. We can do it,” he finishes his declaration with a sweet smile, but you still shake your head.

“Y/N, what did you say to me when you first handed me this sword?” Jungwon asks, partially unsheathing Cataclysm. “You said I was the only demigod from my generation you deemed capable of wielding an enchanted weapon- and didn’t I prove myself? I soul linked with my weapon in days and slaughtered so many giants with this baby,” he animatedly offers, patting the scabbard of his sword.

You soften a bit but still shake your head.

“I just- look- I-” you trail off, rubbing your bicep as you shift your gaze apprehensively, “I strongly believe that Jungkook and I only survived Tartarus for a single reason,” you inhale deeply, momentarily shifting your gaze towards Jungkook who is observing you with furrowed brows. You inhale. “Love.”

“If he didn’t love me or if I didn’t love him, I really don’t think we would have made it,” you elaborate, “I mean- Tartarus sucks the soul out of you.”

You redirect your gaze towards Jungkook, whose jaw is clenched whilst he leans against the ping pong table. “Jungkook… what do you think?”

Your declaration is bold, and you can’t help but think you might be crossing the line- but it’s true. Simply being in Tartarus drains one’s celestial energy, and the only reason you and Jungkook survived was because you desperately wanted the other to live.

“You’re right,” he offers, lifting his gaze from the ground. “But that’s the thing: we were the first to do it and now we can share our knowledge with the next generation- so they can do it without love,” he explains, motioning towards Mark and Jungon.

“You and I, we need to figure things out above Tartarus. And we can only do that with love,” he smiles, and it sparks a flint hope within your system. You soften infinitely at his proclamation.

He looks at you with soft eyes, their warmth mirrored in the tender curve of his lips. In that moment, it feels as if the fates have conspired to weave this moment into their tapestries. The outside seems to fade into the background, leaving just the two of you in your own little world.

“Besides,” Taehyung cuts in, “It’s not like these two don’t have a bromance going on, right?” At that, Jungwon and Mark fist bump each other.

Namjoon intervenes, pushing up his glasses. “Y/N, this plan makes sense. Jungwon and Jungkook emit the same energy. So do you and Mark. We can fool Tartarus with this,” he claims.

“I just- I don’t know I feel comfortable with sending my little brothers down there,” you sigh, rubbing your biceps like you can still feel Cheimarrhus’s frigid winds freezing you to the death..

“Oh? Am I a little brother too?” Jungwon teases, pulling you in for a side hug.

“We’ll be alright, sis. We can handle it. Just worry about figuring out how we’re going to kill another primordial god,” Mark offers, tweaking with the little remote in his hands.

Jungwon and Mark are like sunshine, and suddenly you’re warm.

“Okay.. fine,” you acquiesce “But that doesn’t mean that suddenly you look exactly like me,” you point out, “I mean- Jungkook and Jungwon look kinda similar, but Mina will know that it’s clearly not me,” you state, gesturing towards Mark.

Rose smiles, stepping in. Between her palms, specks of magical energy whirl from her fingertips, emitting a celestial pink glow.

So as it turns out, Rose has developed the ability to alter the Mist.

Mist is a magical veil that conceals the true nature of the world from mortal eyes. It is a form of magical manipulation that alters the perception of regular humans, making them see things differently from what they truly are.

A minotaur wreaking havoc downtown? The mortals will see a wild giraffe on the loose.

That’s the power of the Mist- and sometimes, if the wielder is powerful enough, it can coerce gods and demigods into perceiving illusions rather than reality.

And that’s what exactly Rose does. With a snap of her fingers, Mark and Jungwon turn into identical replications of you and Jungkook, perfectly resembling your features, statures, and movements.

The transformation is uncanny, making it nearly impossible to distinguish Mark and Jungwon from you and Jungkook

“Hi?” Mark giggles (mocking you), twirling a strand of hair around his pointer finger.

You blink at your brother Mark, who looks and sounds exactly like you. It’s like looking in a mirror.

Taehyung shakes his head. “No, you gotta do more of a-“ He pouts his lips into a duck face, theatrically tucking a strand of hair behind his hair.

You smack his arm before you hear Jugkook’s voice.

“That’s fucking crazy,” Jungkook murmurs in awe.

Jungwon and Jungkook stand side by side, and it’s like there’s a pair of identical twins standing together.

“Okay, now practice trying to be them,” Rose muses, and after a brief moment of silence, Mark and Jungwon pull out all the acting cards.

“Oh, Jungkook, kiss me!” Mark mocks in a high pitched voice (which wasn’t necessary because he already adopted your voice), facing Jungwon and jumping on him.

“Oh Y/N!” Jungwon mocks back, making his voice obnoxiously deep and baritone. “I still love you! I’m just too emotionally constipated to express my feelings!”

After pretending to make out with each other, Mark (you) pulls himself from Jungwon (Jungkook). He clears his throat.

“And scene.”

“That was perfect!” Rose squeals, clapping her hands as she jumps up and down in excitement.

Jungkook smiles to himself, shaking his head in disbelief while he rubs his palms over his face- but you certainly don’t miss the way his ears turn red.

You feel the same way, unable to control the crimson spreading through your cheeks.

After establishing that Mark and Jungwon would be sacrificed to Tartarus as decoys, you gather everyone at the 18+ Hephaestus cabin for further preparations.

As the cabin doors gracefully slide open, Mark steps inside, greeted by the hum of machinery. The automated system, recognizing him through a full-body scan, seamlessly grants access to the demigod.

The Hephaestus cabin is reminiscent of a palace, where celestial bronze embellishes every architectural detail, providing extra protection against monsters.Each room is the epitome of celestial innovation, featuring amenities catering to yours and Mark’s individual preferences.

The training arena, for example, has a chamber of fire, adjustable at temperatures above 300 degrees.

You sometimes just sit in there and build up your immunity to heat. It’s like your personal sauna.

You and your friends whiz past the lounge/entertainment area, which is equipped with the comfiest red sofa that can morph into a loveseat, lounge chair, or bed.

With a scan of your finger, a 127-inch flat screen TV can unfold from the walls, running entirely on celestial wi-fi.If you or Mark weren’t in the mood to watch TV, the holographic displays can project immersive gaming environments that respond to the player’s movements and actions.

Your robot on wheels, Reginald, whirs past your friends, holding champagne and water on a tray.

Taehyung and Namjoon stare at Reginald in awe, eyes following him as he rolls around and occasionally tidies up the cabin.

“Would you care for a drink?” Reginald asks, to which Jungkook (Jungwon), attempts to grab a glass of champagne.

You swat his hand. “Jungwon! You’re not of age.”

“How’d you know it was me and not Jungkook?” Jungwon questions in return.

You purse your lips, not answering his question. You know Jungkook so well that you can just tell- but some things don’t need to be verbally expressed.

“So when I asked for a pool in my cabin, you bitched about it for weeks-“ Taehyung begins.

Namjoon continues looking around the cabin. “Gods, this is crazy. Leave it to you guys to make your two-person cabin the most luxurious in camp.”

Mark shrugs, “It’s what we deserve after building all your cabins.”

It’s so weird watching Mark talk. He looks and talks exactly like you. A smile graces your lips as you walk past the arcade room, moving on to scan your finger on a fingerprint sensor.

The bookshelf rotates 180 degrees, unveiling an elevator as it completes a full 360-degree turn.

"Come on in, everyone," you invite, pressing the down button on the elevator.

As the elevator descends, the sound of muzak plays through space. Namjoon shoots you a glance that seems to question the necessity of the muzak. You shrug.

The elevator doors part, revealing Bunker 9, a secretive location known only to you and Mark.

Upon entry, dim lighting unveils a colossal workshop adorned with celestial bronze schematics and intricate blueprints. Automated crafting stations hum with activity, surrounded by shelves of rare materials and celestial artifacts.

Holographic displays flicker to life, projecting encrypted messages and strategic maps. The bunker features a secure communication hub, allowing demigods to coordinate covert missions and exchange vital information without detection.

“Welcome to Bunker 9,” Mark muses.

“Gods,” Rose expresses with awe, “Do you guys even need all this space? This place is huge.”

Mark shrugs, “Yea, but here’s where we do all our top secret Hephaestus kid work. We need space.”

From the end of the bunker, a mechanical murmur fills the air.

"Pulchra!" you exclaim joyfully, hurrying over to affectionately nuzzle your forehead against your mechanical dragon. She responds with a comforting purr, clearly missing you during your year on Mount Olympus.

Jungkook joins in, offering the dragon a warm hug as she continues to purr and emit contented mewls. “How’ve you been girl?” Jungkook teases, to which Pulchra mewls affectionately.

Namjoon toys with a gaming controller directly connected to a holographic display of Camp Half-Blood. Mark approaches him from behind.

"This," Mark explains, "controls a simulation for various emergency scenarios. Chimera attacks, minotaur invasions, even war with a god— it replicates the emergency plans we'd need to implement."

As Namjoon maneuvers the controller, the holographic display responds in real-time, projecting dynamic scenarios that demand strategic thinking and swift decision-making. “You guys should have called me down here years ago,” he expresses, “We could have accomplished so much together.”

In the lull that follows, you delve into an industrial cabinet, rummaging for something before retrieving two rings.

Hurrying to join the rest of the crew, you share, "These rings are equipped with sensors— not ordinary ones. They use a new prototype technology Mark and I are working on,” you exchange a somewhat embarrassed glance with Mark before continuing.

“We call it WhisperTech. They'll capture every sound in your vicinity and transmit it to us in text format. The rings use a discreet audio-sensing system that captures and transmits environmental sounds in text form while monitoring physiological indicators such as heart rate and nerve levels. Make sure to keep them on."

You slide the rings onto the fingers of Mark and Jungwon.

“Let’s test it out,” Mark suggests.

On the holographic display in front of you, Mark’s dialogue appears on the screen.

Mark:

Let's try it out.

Biometric Analysis:

Heart Rate: 78 bpm

Mood: Eager

Thoughts: “I’m hungry”

Stress Levels: Low

Location Data:

Current Location: Bunker 9

Longitude: 155.789° E

Latitude: 36.432° N

Environmental Analysis:

Ambient Temperature: 22°C

Oxygen Levels: Normal

Light Intensity: Dim

Activity Insights:

System Status:WhisperSyncRings: Online

Connectivity: Stable

Encryption Level: Secure

Recommendations:

Continue monitoring for real-time data.

Encourage interaction to gauge response.

Await further commands or inquiries.

“Holy Hera,” Jungkook muses, “There’s no way- so this thing can read someone’s mind?”

On cue, the ring catches onto the dialogue and updates in real time

Jungkook: Holy Hera! There's no way—so this thing can read someone's mind!

Mark's Thoughts: I'm hungry

Biometric Analysis:

Heart Rate: 82 bpm

Moods: Intrigued

Thoughts: Curious about the technology

Stress Levels: Moderate

Location Data:

Current Location: Bunker 9

Longitude: 155.789° E

Latitude: 36.432° N

Environmental Analysis:

Ambient Temperature: 22°C

Oxygen Levels: Normal

Light Intensity: Dim

Activity Insights:

Recent Movement: Stationary (within Bunker 9)

System Status:

WhisperSync Rings: Online

Connectivity: Stable

Encryption Level: Secure

Recommendations:

Continue monitoring for real-time data.

Address Mark's hunger to maintain optimal conditions.

Anticipate further inquiries or commands.

Namjoon tilts his head. “I wonder what the location data will read from Tartarus.”

“As long as I’ve programmed it right, it should read Tartarus as the location. I’m not sure about longitude and latitude, though.”

Taehyung reads the screen. “Address Mark’s hunger to maintain optimal conditions- that’s funny,” he laughs, to which you nod.

“See? The rings will be helpful. We’ll know everything that’s going on, and if something happens, we’ll run in after you,” you exclaim.

Jungwon cocks his head, somewhat unsure. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with you guys knowing my thoughts all the time.”

“Yea,” Namjoon concurs, “but what if you guys are in a situation where you can’t speak or talk? We need to know what’s going on somehow.”

“Swear we won’t tell anyone all your little secrets,” Taehyung jokes.

Rose places a comforting hand on Jungwon’s shoulder and you nod your head, “I swear we won’t pry into your personal life. I can design an algorithm to immediately delete all your personal thoughts and keep records of thoughts related to the quest,.”

Jungwon seems more assured. “If it’s for the mission, it’s fine. It’s not like I have any explicit thoughts anyway.”

You meet eyes with Jungwon, and you kinda wish that you didn’t because he seems unreasonably paranoid.

“Y/N, make an extra one for me,” Taehyung asserts, “If I ever get married I’m gonna put one on my wife’s finger to make sure she’s not thinking about any other men.”

Namjoon scoffs amusedly at that, “I’ll be praying for her in advance.”

You pout at Taehyung and give him an oh so platonic pat on the back. “You’ll find her soon.”

Taehyung smiles. “Thanks inferno princess,” he teases, using Jungkook’s nickname for you, “Just make sure you take of your inferno prince for me.”

Jungkook lifts his head and wraps an arm around you, giving you a side squeeze. “Yea inferno princess, take care of me.”

After bidding goodbye to your friends at the portal to Camp Jupiter, Jungkook suggests that you indulge in something you both rarely have time to do: sleep.

The anxiety of sending Mark and Jungwon as your decoys is killing you, and you can’t help but to pace around Bunker 9 while Jungkook blinks at you from the sofa.

“Y/N, it’ll be okay,” he offers but you shake your head in disbelief.

The dim lighting of the bunker shines eerily above you, and you don’t even realize where you’re going until you walk right into an industrial filing cabinet.

“Ow!” you yelp, to which Jungkook sighs.

He gets up from his seat on the couch and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head in the crook of your neck. “Inferno princess, calm down. Everything will be fine. Just look at the screen,” he offers, pointing to the holographic display project Mark and Jungwon’s thoughts.

Taehyung: I’m thinking of going for a swim after they sacrifice you two.

Mark: Gee, thanks. That’s super comforting

Mark’s thoughts: I need to pee

“See?” Jungkook offers, “There’s nothing wrong. The kid needs to take a piss is all.”

You laugh, your shoulders relaxing a bit as you wrap your palms around Jungkook’s wrists. You stand there for a moment, reveling in the safety of Jungkook’s embrace.

Jungkook is your calm before the storm. He’s always there before you go on a potentially life ending quest , comforting you to reassure you that things will be okay.

“How long has it been since you’ve slept?” he whispers into your ear.

“Don’t know. ‘s been a while,” you mutter.

“Think you need to rest first. A nice long ten hours of rest before we do anything else,” he offers.

You hate the prospect of sleeping while your little brothers plummet into Tartarus because of you, but Jungkook’s right. You’re exhausted.

You wiggle out of his embrace and face him, placing your hands on his shoulders. Your eyes glaze over his face before you impulsively ask him a question. His eyes, nose, mouth- there’s a scar on his left cheek acquired during the two years where you were dead. You never had the chance to ask him what happened.

It’s been six years since your fiery dalliance, and the flame of your affections refuses to be extinguished.

You purse your lips.

“Jungkook, what are we?” you ask, features morphing into confusion as your eyes scan over his face.

He looks taken aback at that revelation. His pretty brown eyes widen, coupled with a slight parting of his lips. He doesn’t say anything so you take the chance to elaborate.

“Why are you wrapping your arms around me? Why are you entertaining our friends’ teasing? Are we- are we back again?”

A fleeting pause ensues- like a suspension in time- before he gathers his thoughts to respond.

“Y/N, you know how I feel about you,” is all he says, and his voice wraps around you like a familiar embrace, offering a comfort that no other sound can match. It's so familiar, and the sweetest things he says to you create a flutter of butterflies in your chest.

Warmth spreads through your veins and you suddenly feel like Icarus- the same Icarus who got high on the intoxication of flying and flew too close to the sun, plummeting to his demise when the sun’s rays melted the glue on his feathers.

Jungkook’s kinda like the sun. Last time you flew too close, you literally died.

Luckily, you’re immune to fire.

Jungkook continues, toying with his lip ring. “I’ve been holding back all this time, y’know. But if we’re going to die, do I really have to hold back? I want to be with you, Y/N.”

You face crumbles into disappointment before you actually laugh at the irony. The fates are cruel. “So is that how our stories go? We only get together when facing impending death?”

Jungkook says nothing.

This time, you’ll take the initiative.

Your features morph into desperation. “Jungkook, if we survive this, marry me. If we get rid of Tartarus for good and everything is okay, marry me. I’m sick of pretending that this isn’t real, like I don’t still love you. I want you, and I want you forever.”

Jungkook says nothing, just presses his lips against yours for a sweet and brief kiss- the first kiss you’ve shared since you were 19.

He withdraws, fingers playing with a bolt he had picked up from a nearby shelf. Then, lowering himself to one knee, he presents you with the bolt. “It’s whatever you want, inferno princess. Marry me.”

He slides the bolt on your ring finger before rising, strong arms around your waist before he kisses you again- for the second time in six years. You snake your arms around his neck, letting him take the lead as you literally have not kissed anyone since kissing Jungkook before you died.

In the trenches of your heart, you hate knowing that Jungkook has been with other people besides you. Nonetheless, you like letting him take the lead so you can be his pliant little inferno princess.

He pulls back a bit, his tattooed hand creeping up to smush your cheeks so your lips pout out. He laughs. “Gods, you’re cute. Now let’s get some rest, baby. We have more gods to kill.”

Finger intertwined and full of unnecessary giggles, Jungkook leads you to none other than the Hypnos cabin.

Hypnos is the god of sleep, a gentle and soothing presence in the realm of Greek mythology.He holds the unique responsibility of overseeing the tranquil moments when both gods and mortals find respite in the embrace of slumber.

Jungkook raps on the door several times, his fingers securely interlaced with yours as you both patiently wait.

No response.

Jungkook knocks again, and you can faintly hear the sounds of the locks turning before a very sleepy Sana opens the door.

Sana is the daughter of Hypnos and the head counselor of the Hypnos cabin. She rubs at her eyes, eyes barely open.

“Hello? Mommy?”

Jungkook purses his lips. “No Sana, it’s me and Y/N.”

At that, she forces one eye open. “Oh! Jungkook and Y/N! Long time no see! How was Olympus?” Though extremely groggy, she gets her words out before sleepily pulling you in for a hug.

You smile and return the hug. “It was great Sana. Is it okay if Jungkook and I come in to get some sleep?”

At that moment, a sudden surge of energy seems to rejuvenate Sana, and she perks up with newfound vitality. “Oh wow! You guys have never asked me to help you sleep! Come right in!”

You walk into the Hypnos cabin, where you’re greeted by two dozen more Hypnos kids dozing off in their beds.

Cabin #15 is often occupied by demigods with the ability to manipulate dreams and induce sleep. It’s a quiet place with dreamy, soothing colors.

The walls are adorned with calming murals depicting various dreamscapes. The beds are comfortable, and there’s a subtle scent of lavender in the air to enhance relaxation.

Sana leads you to a pair of guest beds before rumbling in a mini fridge for Hyponos’ Sleepy Milk. It’s a unique concoction made by the cabin members to help everyone relax and ease into a peaceful sleep.

She throws you and Jungkook baby bottles of milk. “This will put you right to sleep. I’m so happy you two finally came for a visit!”

“Thanks Sana,” Jungkook smiles, before trailing off, rubbing his bicep, “but could we actually share one larger bed?”

Sana beams at that. “Oh absolutely! There’s the couple’s suite down the hall and to the right. Does that finally mean you two are together?-“ Sana cuts herself off, collapsing onto a nearby bed and drifting into a deep sleep the moment her head hits the pillow.

You and Jungkook look at each other, shrugging before going down the hall and to the right where the couples suite resides.

The couples' suite in the Hypnos cabin has a more intimate setting within the tranquil atmosphere. The color scheme includes soft hues like lavender and indigo, creating a soothing and romantic ambiance.

The bed is larger and adorned with dream-themed decor, such as elegant drapes and dreamcatchers. Subtle lighting in the form of fairy lights and dim lamps add to the dreamy atmosphere.

A large, cozy white comforter adorns the bed, and Jungkook pulls it over, throwing his shirt off and at you.

It hits you in the face.

“Aren’t those jeans tight? Just take off your clothes and wear my shirt. It’ll be more comfortable that way,” he suggests, sliding into the bed.

You owlishly blink at Jungkook.

Gods, there’s no way this man is real and that he chose you.

Jungkook is the epitome of a Greek god. The lines of his eight-pack are so clearly defined, and you instinctively turn away, mentally and physically weak.

And Jungkook- the man has the audacity to laugh. “What, inferno princess? Never seen a shirtless man before?” A teasing lip graces his lips.

Your mood does a complete 180, and your features morph into pure petulance and displeasure.

“Just because you’re used to being naked around women doesn’t mean that I am,” you enunciate, pointing your finger in his face before you whirl around, blazing into the restroom.

“Oh c’mon Y/N, it’s not like that,” you hear Jungkook’s unserious voice reverberate through the wooden door.

You know it’s irrational to suddenly care about Jungkook’s activities after asking him to marry you- but peering into the mirror, you realize that your eyes are glossy.

It's not that Jungkook explicitly shared everything he was up to during your time apart; rather, you only became privy to the truth when Taehyung inadvertently spilled the beans during a drunken night.

His hookups, one night stands, friends with benefits- you’re aware of it all.

That evening, you joined in the laughter, feigning nonchalance. But an overwhelming sense of dread seeped into your system whenever the thought of Jungkook with another woman crossed your mind. It’s nearly unfathomable.

You hurriedly wipe your eyes, undressing yourself before sloppily throwing on Jungkook’s shirt.

You swing the door open to find Jungkook propped up on his elbow, lying on his side, patiently awaiting your return to bed. He raises his brows inquisitively at you. “Jealous, inferno princess?”

He’s such an ass.

You scoff at him, casually settling your left knee on the bed. “Jeon Jungkook, you’re a slut,” you seethe through your teeth.

Jungkook shrugs. “I’ve heard worse, now come lay with me, baby.”

Your features harden, and you stoically grab a pillow before placing it in between you and Jungkook.

Your father Hephaestus crafted an actual net to physically catch his wife Aphrodite and her lover in the act. Of course you’re petty enough to pull the makeshift pillow barrier move.

“Oh c’mon Y/N,” Jungkook scoffs in amusement.

You narrow your eyes at him, sliding under the covers and turning on your side with your back facing Jungkook.

Slyly, Jungkook removes the pillow barrier and closes in on you, enveloping you in his arms. He sighs into your hair.

“Since we were ten, you’ve owned me,” he confesses, “every part of me belongs to you. No other woman will ever compare.”

A heaviness settles in your heart. You and Jungkook have endured so much, suffered through so much. Jungkook has done well.

Sensing your body slightly tremble and hearing a sniffle, he tenderly cups your cheeks and gently cranes your head towards him. “Got it?” he confirms,a smile playing on his lips as he notices the tip of your nose turning pink.

You exhale, and he uses his large palms to force a nod out of you. “Got it,” you respond softly, “It’s just- I haven’t been with anybody but you. I guess it makes me insecure knowing how many women you’ve been with.”

Jungkook’s eyes soften, and his eyes become so clear that you can perceive your reflection in his irises. “That’s my fault, baby. I guess I did anything I could to fill the void,” he explains, “But being here with you, our first time- nothing compares.”

You pout, lifting your gaze towards him. “Do you mean it?”

He places a kiss on your nose. “I’ve been in love with you this entire time. Of course I mean it.”

You soften, fluttering your eyes shut as you revel in the feeling of Jungkook peppering kisses all over your face.

“See how natural it is with us?” he continues, “The gods made you for me.”

You pout, throwing your arm around his torso as he pulls you closer. He lets you rest your head on his bicep, and you look into his eyes.

“Is there anything I can do to make you feel more secure with me, baby?” he offers with a kiss to your eyelid.

To Jungkook, it’s like your mind has gone blank, observing the contemplative pause as you search for an answer to his question.

“Hmmm… maybe just tell me you love me from time to time?” you suggest, to which Jungkook bursts into laughter at how adorable he thinks you are.

“Alright, I’ll do that,” he instantly agrees, entertaining your suggestions.

“What’s funny?” you ask, to which Jungkook dismisses it with a nonchalant wave.

He raises the arm that you're resting on, causing your head to gently nestle into the crook of his armpit. “Drink up,” he offers, placing the baby bottle of Hypnos Milk to your lips.

Pliantly, you sip on the bottle and seconds later, you’re out like a light.

That night, you don’t have any unusual dreams, granting you the best fourteen hours of sleep you've ever experienced. When you wake up, a sense of rejuvenation washes over you, but a quick scan of the room reveals that your man is not beside you. Your eyes rapidly dart around the room in search of his presence.

At that moment, Jungkook walks out of the restroom with a toothbrush in his mouth.

His eyes glaze over you, admiring how you look in his shirt, still beautiful with boogers in your eyes. He casually saunters over to you, extending a hand with an invitation card gracefully held between his fingers.

You are invited to our 2000th year anniversary party in Mount Olympus!

A +H

author’s note: aphrodite and hephaestus are a and h

ALSO TJE NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE A DRABBLE FOR EITHER jungwon x reader or mark x reader,

and the fourth chapter will be a son of poseidon!taehyung x reader 😌😌 jk and y/n’s story will resume in chapter five when they go to aphrodite and hephaestus’s anniversary party

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagines #jungkook x reader #jk fanfic #bts fanfic #jungkook fic #demigod!enhypen #demigod!jungkook #demigod!bts #demigod au #camp half blood au

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eldritch-spouse · 4 months

Note

Now I want something. I want admin to spank Morell.

I know a regular piglet wouldn't even make him flinch BUT ADMIN, Admin is enhanced with Krulu's strength. So Admin could make Morell moan for sure.

[Fem reader.]

TW: Dubious consent to no consent; Abusive spanking; Blood; Humiliation; Physical and mental abuse.

You're not sure why your Lord approved of this idea so readily.

You wouldn't even call it a proper punishment plan for Morell's latest minor infraction, it was more of a vaguely intrusive thought that surfaced in your mind. To bend the large, proud monster over your knee and have him lose some of that attitude.

Krulu immediately gave you the greenlight to do it, with some manner of glee even, somewhere between genuine anticipation and humor.

You've come to learn your higher seems to sometimes prefer humiliating punishments over the physically painful ones. It leaves a much bigger imprint on the soul than the marring of flesh, he tells you.

Who are you to question his absolute wisdom?

Besides, it'd be lying to say that you aren't looking forward to Morell's reaction. For as rowdy and assertive as he can be with his coworkers, the chef has always had immense respect for you, being one of the first to pipe down and get in line with new directives or goals. It's something you admire in him.

So, surely, he's not going to flip out now is he?

The kitchen is quiet. Sterilized even. You had the bobbles take care of it before leaving. Part of you considered doing this in the warehouse, in front of the pigs he'll have to look in the eyes when the time to slaughter them comes. But that's already too much sadism for a slap on the wrist measure, isn't it?

No. You'll do it in the kitchen, a much more intimate environment.

Sitting on one of the restaurant chairs you dragged inside, you're roughly in the center of the large room itself, next to the main chopping block, legs crossed. Sharpened eyes study the previous work of the bobbles under Morell's hold. His training is efficient, you'll give him that.

It's taking him a while to come back in. Fact of the matter is he's not even in this floor, most likely. That's part of the problem, how often he's leaving the restaurant for extended periods of time. A frown slowly graces your features, nails tapping rhythmically on the iron legs of the chair. Tsk tsk.

You're considering additional punishment methods for his extended work post abandonment when the telltale squeak of boots on tiles hits your ears. He's in a hurry.

The kitchen doors blast open, Morell puffs with physical exertion and looks scratched in several areas, bits of... Gravel? Rock? Cling to his arms and apron, which he dusts off rapidly, opening his mouth to presumably start barking orders at his team of workers, except- He finally gathers enough wit to notice his actual surroundings.

Squinting, frowning, then finally spotting you. There's a short, vapid blink before he reacts.

" M- Admin, miss! " The shroom greets, nodding respectably before quickly closing the doors behind his large figure.

The monster looks aggravated, guilty. He obviously knows you'd never like seeing him deviating during work hours. You're willing to bet he's gulping behind that thick pink scarf. Morell scratches at his forearm and impulsively keeps dusting himself off, waiting. " Can I get'cha anythin' ta eat? "

" Morell. " You smile, sarcasm all but dripping off your words. " Pleasure seeing you here, for once. "

The mushrooms monster's hands rise immediately in a sort of placation attempt almost unbecoming of his large stature. " Ah know- I know it looks bad, miss, but it ain't like ah'm leavin' the floor ta screw 'round- "

" Did I ask for excuses? " You cut in.

Morell pipes down instantly. " No ma'am, ah'm sorry. "

And this is why he stands out to you. His obedience to authority figures. Morell has always been the kind of monster man who doesn't just bend for others at a whim. He's a stubborn bull of a guy, and all that's missing are the horns to furnish him. When with his coworkers, the shroom is rough and brutish, shooting them down the moment they attempt to mess with him, getting loud, in their faces, threatening them whenever they think they know better. When you first hired the chef, you wee already counting on having to use a sterner hand to keep him in line, and yet, since the very first day, he's regarded you with a courtesy and level of respect that's almost strikingly out of character compared to other sides of him.

Krulu shared this initial wonder too, finding it amusing that the shroom adapted extremely quickly to the roles he should play before you and your Lord. He knows better than to oppose you, sides with you, is very cooperative and available. Commendable qualities.

" I've always liked that about you. "

" ... Beg pardon? "

" How polite you are, without even having to be taught better. " Something you can't say for all.

In spite of the flattery, the chef doesn't relax. " Thank you, ma'am. "

Funnily enough, his accent sometimes takes a backseat in these moments too. Maybe because he's trying to speak like you? You could pick him apart all day, honestly.

" I don't want your apologies, I want you to know your punishment. "

He looks like he wants to desperately say something. Explain the situation, say that he's not at fault, that it can't be helped. You have an inkling of an idea of what might be wrong, more gargoyle shenanigans. Morell looks into your challenging hues and nods, bitterly swallowing any words. Fear flashes briefly in that dark canvas of a face.

It's not often he misbehaves enough to warrant punishments. The most he tends to get is a slap on the wrist for playing too much with the slaughter piglets.

" Of course, ma'am... "

Good boy.

" You're having issues dealing with the gargoyles again. "

Morell nods, hands over his chest and fingers tapping his elbows, the subject very quickly drawing a furious grimace from him.

" They're breaking in and taking meats, finished orders, body parts, sometimes even bobbles. "

Another nod.

" I would be angry too. But you know what I wouldn't do, Morell? Take it upon myself to go out there and hunt them down, when there's already someone who can do that, employed in these very grounds. "

The tapping turns into a tight grip.

" Why not come to Belo about this? A power such as him, who has wings to pursue them with flight, who holds a weapon capable of obliterating them with little effort, whose job is precisely to maintain order here. "

" Buh-! "

" Hush. " Your warning is heeded. " Don't step outside your role, Morell. Perhaps you have the strength to take one or two down, but your effectiveness lies here, in the restaurant. That- " You motion past the kitchen doors. " Does not concern you. "

He sighs quietly, rolling his shoulders. " You're right, ma'am. "

" Good. I'm glad we could get on the same page. " You grin, uncrossing your legs and patting a stocking clad thigh. " Now, for your punishment this time, I want you to bend over my knees. "

Oh. This is precious.

At first, the cook makes a face like he's certain he didn't really hear right, giving himself a few seconds to see if he can decipher what you really must have said. And then, slowly, it starts to sink in, the realization isn't the only thing that sinks however, that expression falling into a somber and wide-eyed look, questioning you. Wounded even.

And hat's how you know it's going to be effective.

" Ah... Come again? "

Oh, the hopelessness.

" You heard me, Morell. " There's no doubt he did.

Another few stunted seconds pass where he seems to be mourning his dignity, presumably. Your eyes glint with cruel anticipation.

" ... Do I hav'ta, miss? "

So polite. Adorable, even. He's smart enough to understand he doesn't really have a choice, somewhere between bargaining and pleading.

Suffocating the urge to giggle and kick your legs, you offer Morell an almost mocking solemn nod, as if it pained you too to be doing this. An open palm claps gently in your thigh, hurrying him.

The chef's face scrunches again, and if the skin directly under his cap weren't so dark, you would probably be able to spot the stress creases forming on his forehead. He shuts his eyes and takes a silent deep breath, reaching back to undo his apron. Morell takes his sweet time getting ready, and because he's been obedient thus far, you allow him those precious moments of peace. The desperation is such so that he even takes the time to fold his dirtied butcher's apron.

Finally, wearing only pants and boots, the monster stands before you, defeated before you've laid but a single finger upon him. Brilliant work.

" Knee. " You insist.

Slightly luminescent eyes scroll from his own massive figure to your much smaller one. " Ma'am... Ain't it gonna hurt? "

He knows better. He's seen better. The force and resilience bestowed upon you by your Lord knows hardly a limit. Morell could throw himself onto you, where as a normal human's bones would creak and shatter, you'd merely wonder how to best castigate him.

" I don't stutter, Morell. "

Boy, does that get him moving.

Somewhat awkwardly, the cook sinks to his knees. If his peculiar skin allowed it, you know he'd be covered in goosebumps when he angles himself across your legs. A tremor wracks his body, though you're quick to lower a hand on his broad back, encouraging the shroom to let his weight settle on your thighs.

A few seconds pass in that stillness. That delicious silence, the walls dripping anticipation and Morell radiating a level of mortification that has the spectator behind your eyes grinning with glee.

And then, as if gouging the right moment to lunge, you yank his pants and underwear down. The way Morell jumps could almost be compared to a frightened cat's leap, a tremor followed by this choked noise of embarrassment that all his coworkers would surely mock him over for eternity. The chef's rump perfectly fits his worked physique, yet there's an unmistakable softness there, an appealing shape, something Santi has openly admired before- To his own detriment, as such was quickly followed by a wooden spoon to the top of his head.

It's a nice ass, you'll admit. Shame he doesn't let anyone touch it.

Snickering at his panic, you soothingly rub a hand over his backside, feeling the give of his bizarre anatomy. Shroom monsters don't have the same type of skeletal structure humans do, their bodies are spongier in nature, yet by no means does that mean they're less sturdy. Humming peacefully, you take the time to squeeze over the spots that cover his blue hide, fondling the grown monster currently surrendered to you in thought.

Your forearm begins to sprout blackened veins, lovingly possessive growths that curl over your limb and encompass it, appropriate it. In a matter of seconds, Lord Krulu has transformed your hand into one of his, dark and deftly long fingers furnished with the claws of an apex predator. You raise it in the air with nothing but pride and adoration.

And oh, if Morell had any hope that your spankings would be tame, then it'd be a compliment to call him a fool.

Because when that same hand crashes down, the muted force of your god thunders across his entire body.

And he squeals.

Nicely done.

Both of you freeze. Your hand doesn't sting minimally, but the imprint immediately left on Morell's asscheek is a testament to the level of strength that was so effortlessly doled out.

No one moves for a second, the shock of that bizarre bleat being processed. You'd never guess a sizable monster like Morell could make such a noise, like a confused animal in pain.

The grin that crawls up your cheeks is sickening.

" What was that, Mori? Did one of your pigs escape? "

He's panting, quietly, but not subtly enough to miss.

" ... No. "

" No? "

" N-No miss. "

You snicker. " Alright, must have been my imagination. "

A tune is hummed serenely when your hand rises off his already overheated flesh, and the way the chef sucks in a desperate lungful of air is as riveting as it gets. But like Hell you'll give him the privilege of certainty, lowering said palm again with a deceitful gentleness, petting him, resting.

The next whack has spittle flying past grit teeth. He muffles part of the humiliating noise, at the cost of drooling on himself like a beast. Morell shivers atop you like a stuttering car engine. Krulu laughs.

" Honestly, I'm almost sad to be bruising a rump this pretty, Morell... " You muse, watching his cerulean hue steadily bleed into navy bruises that muddle his naturally glowing spots. " But it does make for an interesting sight. "

He stays quiet, and, in retaliation, you let that very same hand wander a little. Krulu's features recede to allow your human softness to brush over his skin, moving between the chef's legs. Instantly, there's a sudden tension in his entire body, more so than when he feared the spanking, and although you only teasingly feather over his asshole, Morell squirms in endless discomfort as if you had stuck pins and needles on him. Pressure against his perineum rips a grunt out of him, though reaching past the butcher's balls reveals the expected, he's entirely limp.

Something easily fixed.

" Part your legs a little. "

The shroom monster gulps, voice only a tad hoarse. " Admin, miss... "

Be it with the sharpest claws or bluntest nails, most men don't enjoy having their family jewels crushed. " Part. Your. Legs. "

He does, arms flexing in suffering until you relent. You don't need to warn him not to make you repeat yourself again. His reward is a much softer grasp around his manhood. And, with no pain to distract him, it's easy to get Morell to twitch in response, even if his fear is still palpable.

You stroke him until he hardens in your hand, something easy to achieve considering this sick fuck loves making his terrified little piggies worship his cock before he guts them into a dish. There's nothing like a human's touch to many of the workers here, and he's no exception. You can't help lick your lips when he starts silently rocking the slightest amount into your motions, soft sighs leaving his slowly relaxing form. Goading him further into this state of mindless pleasure, you offer him slightly faster friction, until he's properly bucking into your hand, ruffling groans of enjoyment.

He could never have spotted the spare arm sprouting from your back, could never see its dark length extend in the air-

Before it slammed down with enough force to rattle the skeleton out of anyone.

" HHHRK- "

You laugh, loud and jovial, this childish cackle ringing through the kitchen at your Master's impatient and cruel swat. Poor little Morell jolts and groans openly, the growing wave of pleasure interrupted and now intermingled with shock. His confused mind struggles to process the difference between pleasure and pain, lumping both together in a way that has him throbbing.

He seems to still at his own body's response.

Perfection.

You don't cease pumping his cock when the third arm lifts again, forcing the chef to experience both extremes of sensation when he's spanked again. He spasms uselessly, you bet his eyes are bulging by now.

Time to force him to think.

Whack

" What area of The Clergy's Eye have you been assigned to? "

" Tha- Kitchen! " He struggles, huffing.

Whack

" Where shall you stay when working then? "

More confused twitching in your hand. " Kh- Kitchen! "

SMACK

" Are you going to leave it again to do things that don't concern your station? "

" NnNO! "

The pace of your hand quickens, yet so does the your Master's rightful penance. Morell's bruised, indigo-tinted behind starts blooming into shades of abused purple. Tattoos of Krulu's divine hand furnish it nicely. You have no doubt this monster will sleep on his stomach for the following week.

Thwack thwack THWACK

" Will I have to do this again, Morell? "

He sobs, a real ugly sob that he quickly tries to suck back in, making you swiftly lean down to spot... Ah, the first few tears falling on the tiles. Good.

" No- No please- " And yet he still leaks precum like a faucet. What's going through that head right now?

Pleasure, pain, fear, regret, shame that reaches the skies.

Your Lord generously offers.

" You learn fast, I'm sure I won't have to discipline you again, right? "

The chef shakes like a leaf, yet there's no denying he's close to orgasm. His legs flex from more than just pain now. " Y- Yes, ma'am! "

CRACK

" Though I'd say you're enjoying it if I didn't know better. "

He makes a sound somewhere between a whine and a blubbered wail. " No- 'M not, please- " It's the most pathetic thing you've ever heard coming from him.

" Mhm, okay then, I believe you. "

The next set of unrelenting spanks makes even you cringe, Krulu's force jostling not just the fully grown monster but yourself as well. It's actually a little exciting to witness. Spots where Krulu's claws intentionally caught onto the tender flesh turn into depraved welts, droplets of blood flying out with each merciless motion, spraying the snow-tiled ground and even yourself.

Morell screams, wails, shrieks like his arms are getting ripped out their sockets. It's a symphony of panicking pain that hardly lets him breathe in between each tormenting snap and quick pump. He makes the mistake of sucking too much air into his lungs at a time, then starts coughing and hiccupping hopelessly.

The moment your Lord halts is when your fervent motions take the stage, and Morell, tortured, oversensitive and disoriented, lasts less than five seconds before throbbing hard and shooting ropes all over your fingers. You pump his cock throughout the entire orgasm, milking it, making a mess that you then wipe on the inside of his thigh, letting his cum-soaked length rest.

Another pause stretches for a long few moments where everyone is winding down. And, as adrenaline seeps out the mushroom monster's pores, he breaks.

Totally limp upon you, Morell attempts to fruitlessly hide his face behind broad arms while his sniffling and gasping escalates into the most defeated, utterly humiliated sobbing there is. He struggles with breathing properly, scratching his own throat as tears splatter steadily on the ground, keening whines bubbling out of the still shaking man. In his despair, he tries to huddle closer to you, tries to fold himself into a ball even with your legs in the way.

You don't know if it's your Lord's enjoyment or your own, but the view sends a pulse of arousal straight up your cunt, cheeks heating.

" There there... " You murmur, rubbing a comparatively cool hand around the edges of his punished skin. The way he tenses and tries to push his sobbing behind a tightened jaw is adorable. " It's all over now. "

The trembling doesn't stop, but the butcher manages to quiet his own wailing within a few minutes. Tears still drip onto the ground.

A few taps get him to move off your legs, but Morell quickly finds out changing positions is torturous, sharp burning stings eliciting choked grunts and heaves from the monster. He settles, embarrassingly, for laying almost on his stomach, prostrated before you on the ground.

Grinning, so wet you can feel your panties soaking, you push the chair away and sit on the ground next to the recovering monster, pulling his face onto your lap and petting that large cap of his.

Morell chokes, clinging onto your clothes. You didn't think he'd break this hard, but it's a lovely reaction.

" 'M sorry... 'M-... Sorry... "

And, as you study his sorry state, you can't help but smile warmly. Bruised ass darker than night, blood still spilling, half-hard cum-coated dick out, arms and face wet with tears, grasping onto you for dear life...

You wouldn't mind doing this more often.

#Morell oc #mellsfern #terato #monsterfucker #terato tag #yandere monster #yandere teratophilia #monster x reader #monster boyfriend #monster x human #not sfw #minors dni

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delulustateofmind · 1 month

Text

Between Worlds Part IV

A/n: Sorry for the short chapter! I'm going to be really busy this week with work so I won't have another update til next week probably. Next week's update with be part two of "A City of Dreams" and part five for between worlds. Thank you everyone for the love on the last one. Hope you guys enjoy a bit of Azriel's pov. :))

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five: Coming soon!

Summary: Reader wakes up in ACOTAR a year after the war with Hybern. A bunch of events happen that leads to them waking up in a one night stand with Azriel.

Trigger Warnings? None!

Work Count: 1.2k

‎‧₊˚✧ Reader POV ✧˚₊‧

Azriel left nothing but his scent of night-chilled mist and cedar lingering in the air. After he departed, you made your way into the estate, feeling somewhat dazed as you traversed up the steps and through the doorway. give Thoughts of your recent conversation swirled in your mind. How could Azriel be so considerate? He seemed to accept the bargain without too much hesitation, despite gaining nothing from it. Azriel’s unexpected acceptance left you feeling uneasy. Did he have a plan, or was he simply indulging on a whim? It was hard to tell with someone as enigmatic as Azriel. After all, to the fae, three months might feel like a mere blink of an eye.

As soon as you stepped into the hall of the estate, your maid who seemed to be in a frantic mood quickly intercepted you as she caught your eye, her expression tense as she guided you to your bedroom. “Where have you been?” she chided softly, her grip on her apron betraying her nerves. “You’ve never done anything like this before, in all twenty-six years of your life. If your parents found out…why they would never let you leave again.”

“I’m sorry…I stayed the night with Hazel,” The lie seemed to slip out, almost like muscle memory. A few thoughts occurred to you.

But what if you told her the truth? Would she be excited? How long has she been your maid? What even if her name?

A small huff pulled you away from lingering thoughts.

“You smell like a drunken fool, you look like one too. Bath, now” Your maid instructed, her tone firm as she closed the bedroom door behind us.

“Thank you for covering for me” your voice barely above a whisper, as you made your way to the bathroom attached to your bedroom quarters. The words felt hollow on your tongue, weighed down by the guilt of deceiving everyone around you. Yet, somehow beneath the surface, a sliver of relief flickered, knowing that you had someone you could trust somewhat.

Before you began to strip off the dress, you looked over at your maid who was searching your closet for a dress. You simply stated.

“Could you find me a journal? One with a lock or a ward?” Your maid gave you a quizzical look and shrugged with a nod. A wave of her hand ushered you to quickly bathe as there was much to do today.

‎‧₊˚✧ Azriel POV ✧˚₊‧

I winnowed back to the outskirts of the House of Wind, the rush of air exhilarating as I took flight. My wings unfurled to their full span, casting long shadows across the ground as I landed softly in front of the house. As I made my way to my room, a deep sigh escaped my lips, the weight of recent events pressing down on me.

My mate

The realization still felt surreal, after all these years of waiting. Yet, despite my excitement, doubts nagged at the edges of my mind. Was she afraid? Last night, she seemed drawn to me, but today, only fear and concern marred her features.

What was she hiding?

I understand my reputation proceeds me, as I’ve done horrible things. I’ve killed, tortured, and manipulated in more ways than I could count. I know I’m undeserving of a mate, one that seemed so perfect. Yet, somehow, I feel as if she already knows of the horrible things that I’ve done. The way her fingers would brush across my scarred hands as if they weren’t… horrible as if they hadn’t caused pain and hurt to the world.

The shadows… I never expected them to be so soft

You seemed to see his shadows as a part of him, something to be cherished and praised. While others thought of them as something to be feared, something people shunned besides his family. Yet, how often did you think about his shadows, especially since you both have never met before?

The chances of you two meeting were slim, it could have happened in passing. Your father is one of the government officials for Velaris. A kind man, though he had only spoken to him maybe once or twice. Though, I could never forget her if we had met, the way her eyes seemed to gleam up at me like stars. Eyes that made him feel safe as if he could drown in them from the warmness they beheld.

For once, he felt like he could let his guard down, and it was a surreal feeling, one he was hesitant to admit. Perhaps, that’s why he trusts her so much that he made a bargain that didn’t benefit him in the slightest.

Why were you so intoxicating? Occupying his mind like a drug? We had only just met, yet I crave you.

The urge to send a few of his shadows your way to at least know that you’re safe. You seemed so trusting and naive, what if someone used that against you? Though he knew the terms of the bargain as he rubbed the small marking on his wrist. Didn’t mean he liked the terms.

Azirel also knew he didn’t have to wait three months to see you, but you looked desperate for something. As if you lacked time, you’re fae? Privileged fae…you had all the time in the world. Therefore, what was causing that pretty little mind of yours to hesitate to be his mate? What did you need to complete before you both could be mated together?

A distraction is what he needed.

A curse was under his breath as he knew he was behind on reports that he needed to complete before the Starfall event with his family. He couldn’t let himself go crazy thinking of y/n and what she was doing. Perhaps, he would send flowers, maybe even a little shadow, one that he would command not to report to him but just so she knew he was still here…that if she needed him, he was a whisper away.

A deep sigh escaped his lips as he ran his fingers through his raven black hair grabbed a piece of paper and wrote a note. An awful idea really, but how harmful would it be?

My Dearest Y/n,

How you have ensnared me in your spell, I cannot fathom. Your very presence is a symphony of enchantment, weaving its melody through the fibers of my soul. For you, my mate, I offer these flowers to brighten your hangover, accompanied by one of my shadows. Fear not for I have commanded them to honor our bargain, refraining from any prying or divulging of secrets. Should you ever need me, simply whisper to the shadow and I will come to you at a moment’s notice.

In truth, I am not one to resort to poetry or love letters, but for you, I would humble myself before the Mother.

With all my affection,

Azriel, your mate

With a flick of his wrist, a silent command, the shadow obediently trailed off, carrying the letter. Azriel had commanded it to bring flowers from Elain’s garden as well. As he watched the shadow disappear, a deep sigh along with a curse escaped his lips. Despite the tasks awaiting him, his mind remained preoccupied with thoughts of you.

Taglist: @mybestfriendmademe, @why4anne, @impossibelle, @lilah-asteria

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel #acotar azriel #shadowsinger #oh to receive a love letter from a little shadow <3

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saturncoyote · 8 months

Text

Hope's extended family reveal, aka the Twirling Planets local group

None of them are really important to the overarching story as Hope cut ties with them very early on, though their influence is still there under the surface

design notes + ramblings under the cut, trust me there's a lot

The Twirling Planets local group follows a strict hierarchy based on the age of each member, the group's senior of course being at the very top followed by their assigned supporting eldest, then comes the rest of the members and at the very bottom sits the juniors.

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

Cultivated Devotion is a proud iterator and a stern senior who takes her position very seriously, she believes that all iterators must follow their purpose as given by their creators and anything that does not progress their search for the solution is a waste of time. - She does not have any facial features, not only was it seen as a unnecessary use of resources by their creators but is also meant to be a symbol of emotional detachment. - Has 14 pearls tied to their antennae, which one representing a member of the local group - Represents Neptune

Teller Of Bitter Truths is not much of a talker, prefering to show it's opinions with actions instead, it is a close follower of Devotion's word and does not take it's position lightly. - Has 7 pearls tied to it's antennae - Represents Uranus

One Hundred Wind Gusts however is much more laid-back than their partner, being quite the talkative fellow, though is not afraid to put on a more serious face when the need arises. - Has 3 pearls tied to his antennae - Represents Saturn

Countless Wheat Field would be the most curious of the group, they believe that their existence is a precious one for they were tasked with the search of the most important question of all. - Eyed are painted on and purely there for aesthetic purposes, cannot actually move pupils - Represents Venus

Untold Murmurs is a mysterious one, only showing up in broadcasts if absolutely necessary, prefering to keep an emotional distance from all members of the group. - Has a screen instead of the standard iterator eyes, has the ability to project anything on it to help with communication but refuses to change it from the two small dots - Represents Mercury

Steadily Flowing Cycles is a iterator of few words, prefering to be as blunt and direct as possible when talking to her fellow members, not exactly caring if they are being rude while doing so. - Puppet is heavy and clunky, built to last with as little check-ups as possible - Represents Jupiter

Scorching Sea is a extremelly stubborn and hot-headed iterator, prefering to do her own thing when possible and (not so kindly) urging the other members of the group to do the same. - Represents Mars

#rain world #rainworld #iterator #iterator oc #scopophobia #my ocs #saturn art

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scribble-dribble-writes · 8 months

Text

Trapeze

<<<Prev(Tattooed kisses) (Silly Jester)Next>>>

Pairing: Buggy x female mermaid!reader

Word count: 2000

Warnings: none

Content: All is fair in love and war?

I guess why Buggy has won over the women of the Internet is because he's got pretty eyes, makes you laugh and just wants to be loved. So he will be given all the love in the world 😩

---

The dark water concealed your form, your tail masked in a dark fabric as you swam towards the location of where the circus was docked. The information you now carried filled you with dread, because if you didn’t reach your crew on time. They will all be gone. Buggy will be taken away. Arlong wanted to deal with the circus but for what?

You dreaded his presence. He ruled the part of the seas you were familiar with. His affection for his people only extended to those who looked like him, the same prejudice the fish men received he circulated that amongst other fish people. In his mind, your kind were more human than fish because of your facial features. And in the eyes of human beings, you only belonged to the ocean. So it was quite clear that the message for you was that you belonged nowhere, now the only place that housed you was in trouble.

But your racing heart was also because of the other rumors you had picked up. Ones you didn’t want to believe. That Buggy’s true intent was to capture the new crew, to get the map. He would have told if that was the case.

If he was going after the coveted one piece, he would have let you in on his plans. Wouldn’t he?

You pushed it aside, your loud intuition telling you that you were a fool, the last night you spent with him coming into your thoughts filling you with comforting memories. His easy jokes making you laugh, his eyes that held affection but now all that was marred by doubt.

Did he really look at you like that? Or was it something you just believed because you craved it.

What if after all this time, he had double crossed you too?

You broke to the surface, the ship with the carousel still docked by the edge, the circus tent still having its flag flutter in the wind. You heaved a sigh, he was here just like he said he would be and you were on time. But the smell of charred wood over powered your sense of smell, the heat from the earth still fresh, when the dead town loomed ahead of you, you felt like throwing up.

It can’t be. He had promised. He had promised you he would raid another town.

You walked through the town gates to see that the people were weeping, some bringing supplies for hungry kids while a few others began to rebuild what had been burnt down. Their eyes fell on you and all you received were scowls. The very same expression that you received as an abandoned child, when you became a nightmarish story the townsfolk would tell their kids so they would beware the sea. You began to run as you pulled down your hood, what had happened here in your absence?

He knew well about your past and yet he was doing the same thing your captors had done to your home. Your heart began to swirl with every emotion you had kept bottled up, the love you felt for him now had to be locked up as your trust felt sabotaged. You wanted to jump to conclusions but you had to know for certain from him, so you navigated towards the circus tents.

It was too quiet. No music was playing, no rehearsals were being conducted. No one was working on their craft, the circus looked more still than the town. You walked in, the crunchy soil beneath your feet announcing your presence when you heard a mumbling voice in the corner. The only one you wanted to know was safe above all the others. His head wrapped in that bandana of his with his back turned to you as he sat above a crate, only half of him put together.

“Buggy.”, you called for him but it was mostly worry. Your nightmares had almost come true, of him being taken away from you. You were relieved and yet cautious as your mind tried to put together the facts you had collected.

His head snapped towards you, his eyes filling up with a sense of ease as you approached him.

“You’re back early.”, he perked up, his mask falling as he looked up at you. You took in his presence, the crates around him bobbing as though it had an animal locked up. Putting it all together, it was clear someone had trapped parts of his legs in different crates.

“Where are the others?”, you questioned. You couldn’t sink into his sweet devotion till you knew what had occurred. Till you knew the truth.

“The others? Oh just dismissed for a break. They’ll be back.”, he waved his hands about but the twitch in smile was further proof he was lying.

You pursed your lips as you unsheathed your dagger, his eyes growing serious upon witnessing your action. But you turned towards the crates to prop the lid open to free his legs. Your silence and lack of a reaction was beginning to unnerve him, as he tapped his fingers nervously, his eyes darting from your face to your hands as he thought of ways to know what was on your mind.

“What news do you have about the new pirate crew?”, he chirped again and it began to frustrate you. He was still adamant with keeping up appearances.

“Recent reports stated they were kidnapped by a bunch of pirates.”, you spoke, refraining to look at him, testing to see if he was going to catch your trick.

“What did I tell you, everyone’s after them.”, he shrugged his shoulders as he dusted his pants to get up.

“Are you after them?”, you cut to the point, his eyes flashed steel blue as he gauged your expression.

“Why would I be after them?”, he asked in return. His hat now sitting perfectly over his head. Now it was his turn to try and read your mind.

You took a step away from him and he grew tense, an anxious smile spreading across his face.

“Why did you send me away on all those missions?”, you asked, folding your arms defensively.

“You know why.”, he took a step towards you and you retreated from him. Pain flashed across his face as he withdrew his outstretched arm. His gloved hand making it more symbolic for all the schemes he had kept hidden from you.

“I don’t know. Enlighten me.”, you said, furrowing your brows as reality began to set in.

He grew quiet, there was no way of escaping from this now.

“I was just another pawn in you game, wasn’t I?”, you asked, your voice breaking to even think about all of it.

“No.”, he said quickly. His eyes catching yours and in the fog of all the illusion, this answer somehow felt earnest. But you weren’t sure if you could believe it.

“You were never just a pawn.”, he said as he stood taller but it wasn’t going to make up for all the damage that had been done.

“You sent me away so you could go after them yourself. To get that map.”, you stated and his face broke into despair.

“It's not what you think it is.”, he held up his hands, his fingers craving to hold you.

“Don’t play me for a fool, Boss.”, you raged as you got close to him.

“Don’t call me your Boss.”, his eyes narrowed as anger simmered in his tone. He only ever wanted to hear his name on your lips, nothing else.

“Oh yeah, what else should I call a man who conveniently tasked me with work just so he can go after what he wants?”, you were close to his face, you could hear his hurried breaths and notice the way his eyes slid to your lips.

“I did it for us.”, he said quietly. His eyes coming back up to hold your gaze again.

“We find the One piece and we can forget about the sea for the rest of our lives.”, he spoke but it wasn’t going to convince you, just as it struck you.

“You want to be king of the pirates.”, the statement felt foreign to even say it but as realization dawned and it shocked you.

His eyes widened and you stayed still. He didn’t deny it because that was the truth he was hiding from you. His gloved hand caught you wrist gently as he held you next to him.

“Yes.”, he said finally and you wanted to push away from him. He too had taken advantage of you.

You held the dagger up to his neck knowing well that it wasn’t a threat to him but the tears began to blur your eyes, you fought against his hold but he wouldn’t let you go.

“You can be my Queen.”, he smiled honestly, his eyes flitting between yours, the edges glistening as you fought against him, trying hopelessly to get you to see the possibilities in the vision he had.

“I don’t want to be Queen, I don’t want to be a prop in your act.”, you said as you stood still and watched your words pierce his heart. It was only fair, if he finally spoke the truth, then you could too.

“Do you think the world will uphold you as King after you’ve burned down their homes, kidnapped a few kids and caused for people to fear you when in the end you crave their admiration and validation?”, you asked and his grip on your wrist loosened, his eyes looking away from you to the gravel beneath.

“You can’t cheat your way into love, Bug.”, you sniffled as you said finally, your heart now turning into sea foam.

You let him to be, not willing to progress this fight any longer as he stood there in the silence, in the after math of his actions as you turned to leave, to dive into the ocean because you couldn’t let go of this sadness in the form of tears. As much you tried to lie to yourself, the truth had revealed itself.

“I wanted to win you your freedom.”, he yelled after you.

“but I guess it would have just been better for the both of us if I had never found you by that cove.”, he continued and you stopped in your tracks.

“Do you really mean that?”, you asked as you faced him. Tear stains leaking through the paint on his face. His hands clenched together in pain. His pale blue eyes glimmered even from this distance. He could make up for your tears by shedding your portion of it too.

His upturned lip and nonchalant shrug was part of the act, he stood here as the Captain of this dismantled crew. He had sent you away on those trips all in the hopes that even if he was caught in the execution of his schemes, you would be safe, away from all this.

His heart was broken in two, one the belonged only to you and the other that wanted the victory of discovery that treasure. To get back at Shanks and every other being that had looked down on him. The only way to do it was by winning that crown. But he couldn’t lose you in the process. So he reworked his plans endlessly and spent his sleepless nights trying to make sure nothing could go wrong but this plan of his had too many strings that now he was caught in this net.

So maybe this was for the best, that the inevitable had occured. To cut you lose, to make you believe his words as much as it killed him to say it.

“Being with you was all the freedom I needed, Buggy.”, he heard you say and he was sure he was going break away into pieces again.

It was becoming difficult to play an maniacal clown when deep down he wanted those nights with you. Where he felt loved and seen without any additional drama and flair. He wanted to have an easy and quiet life but now his whole world was complicated. He was in middle of it all, to get the map, to truly make himself into someone worthy. Worthy of respect and your love.

“Maybe you are the mask that you wear. After all these years, you’ve become the act itself.”, you scoffed as you gripped the slash of your satchel to spit out these words. He had betrayed you, the one person you had stuck around this crew for so long.

“And I fell for it.”, you shook your head, a mistake you could never recover from because he gave you a home. He was your home. Now you were a vagabond again.

You turned away to continue down the path to the docks, to hitch a ride to another island or figure out a way to get far from here, to put as much distance as you could between the two of you.

But in the few seconds you had turned away he yelled your name in desperation. You ignored him and his attempt at faking agony but then he called your name again and this time told you to run.

You turned back to see him when you caught sight of his body on the floor, knocked out cold as a fish man stood over him. Panic filled your system when you remembered why you had to find him, the news about Arlong coming for him. Your legs wanted to run but you couldn’t.

Not when you felt a hit on your forehead and your head hit the ground.

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