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#birds of paradise au
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robin and nancy in my birds of paradise au
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ink-blot-thoughts · 5 months
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Okay big brain thought time:
Phantom thief Haikaveh AU.
Kaveh is a phantom thief who loves his dramatics and stealing from rich people. Is still hella in debt cause he gives away everything like the most sopping wet rag version of Robin Hood. Uses mad architecture knowledge to evaluate buildings. His arch nemesis? Detective Alhaitham.
Meanwhile, Dectective Alhaitham is a bored detective who will not be working overtime on this new thief case, thank you very much. Accidentally keeps foiling Kaveh's heists by running into him and Kaveh can't keep himself from arguing with him and getting caught by all the yelling. Hmm? Archnemesis? He has no time for such a ridiculous notion, besides, Kaveh practically catches himself, Alhaitham would much rather spend the time reading a good book.
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bulaklakk · 7 months
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Shapetober 2023
Day 3: Paradise
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hugs!! :3
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archer-world · 1 year
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i hate this man i hate him so so much /keeps drawing him
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jacobmybeloved · 2 years
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[Chapter 1: Introduction] / [Chapter 2: The Wedding] / [Chapter 3: Paradise] / [Chapter 4: Dawn of Lions] / [Chapter 5: The Lion's Sun] / [Chapter 6: Stars In Your Eyes]
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letsgofoletsgo · 5 months
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I like to think that in Star Guardians Rakan, Xayah and Zephyr are referred to as “the flock”, and Zephyr even changes their group chat name to it cause they think it’s funny
Also Zeph has their contacts as 💖borb💖 and 💙borb💙 for Xayah and Rakan respectively
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sarcasticdolphin · 11 months
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Todolf Modern Mafia au “Found”
Roger takes a vacation to Vienna. It ends .... poorly. Cut .... well most of the really bad stuff is off-screen, so to speak. But not all of it.
This is the finale of the modern mafia au.
The drawing is beautiful - a bird, blue and black. Roger can’t say he’s familiar with the blue bird-of-paradise, but the artist’s work is exquisite. Every moment he notices a new detail in the feathers.
“Sir?” 
Roger turns to see the guide. He was alone for this tour - a virtue of the hour, for one.
“I need to take this call. Our resident artist is just up the stairs, so feel free to head up without me. He doesn’t bite.”
Roger nodded, thanking the guide before starting up the stairs. All of the birds were the work of ‘R.T.’ and he for one was quite eager to meet the skilled artist.
The door was partially open, revealing a studio with a single resident. He was trying to keep his footsteps light so as not to disturb the artist at his work.
Roger wasn’t sure what it was that gave it away. Rudolf’s hair was longer, and it had a soft wave to it, but there was something about him - the way he carried his shoulders, perhaps, that made him unmistakable. 
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The surprised and tense shifting of the man’s feet reached Rudolf a moment before the word did.
“Rudolf.”
He would be lying if he said he had ever imagined this moment, imagined anything from his old life following him here. Carefully, he put his pen down, securing it away from the sketch before turning.
“Roger.” The man before him was older, but unmistakable.
“Rudolf, you’re-” Roger didn’t finish his sentence, instead taking a step forward and reaching his hand out before thinking better and pulling it back. “I thought you were-” A little smile comes to Roger’s face and there are the beginnings of tears pricking at his eyes.
A thousand thoughts flew through Rudolf’s head. A movement at the edge of his vision is surely Michael, but however competent the man is, he is only a man. 
“You’re alive.” Roger does finally manage to finish his statement, his tone one of amazement, of joy.
“So it would seem.” Rudolf keeps his own voice even. 
“Rudolf, why-” Roger still seems to barely believe his own eyes. “Why didn’t you come back? Come home?”
Rudolf doesn't answer that one. His home is with Tod, wherever that might be, and has been for well over a decade.
“Rudolf-” Roger took a step forward. “Oh God, he took you, didn’t he? Kidnapped you. Faked your death so we wouldn’t look.”
Rudolf gives a long blink and tilts his head to the side, raising an eyebrow. Obviously.
“Rudolf, I’ll take you home, get you out of here. You don’t have to be his prisoner.”
Rudolf held up his hands, making a show of the lack of manacles. “This is my home. And who said I was his prisoner?”
“Rudolf-” Roger’s tone shifted. He was starting to understand, then. “What did he do to you?” The man before him wiped what had to have been a tear away.
But Rudolf doesn’t have time to answer before Roger is speaking again, rapidly. Apologies are falling from his lips, and Rudolf lets them. 
It continues for a few minutes, but Rudolf doesn’t begin to relax until he catches the movement in the corner of his eye once more. Michael had acquired backup. They drug and subdue Roger with relative ease, taking the man by complete surprise. Rudolf can see betrayal in his eyes for a moment before he passes out.
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Roger’s head hurts terribly when he comes around, his vision swimming for a few moments before it comes back fully into focus. He’s in an office, though calling it that is almost an insult to the term - the room is huge, with a vast window on one side. It was evening now - the sun was dinner, and he could see a great forest beyond the window. There’s a gag in his mouth and his hands are bound.
Rudolf was looking out of the window, or at least in that direction. He was looking slightly down, not at Tod, who was standing there, facing Rudolf side-on. Tod looked no different than Roger remembered, still almost ethereal. One of his hands was on Rudolf’s shoulder blade, and while he was facing Rudolf, Roger didn’t miss the flicker of Tod’s eyes in his direction or the way the man began to shift, moving around Rudolf until he stood before the young man. Tod’s arms went more completely around Rudolf, looking so gentle but holding him close.
It was so tender that Roger wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. The last he’d seen of them had been that horrific security clip, the one where Tod’s fingers had been digging into Rudolf’s neck, his murderous intentions all too clear. But now - this was anything but that. 
Rudolf raised himself up on his toes, pressing a kiss to the corner of Tod’s lips, and Tod’s hand shifted to the middle of Rudolf’s back even as he began to lead Rudolf away, out of the office.
Tod returned alone, some minutes later. He leaned against the edge of the desk and made a gesture with his fingers. The two men who had been holding Roger the entire time hauled him much closer.
“Roger, Roger Roger. Why did it have to be you?” Tod’s voice was musical. “Rudolf is well, in case you were curious. He’s blossomed without all the stress.”
Tod pauses, regarding Roger coldly before nodding to the two men holding him. One of them pulled on something, and the gag fell from Roger’s mouth.
“He’s not yours.” The words were hoarse.
Tod laughed at that. “Oh? Do you think he’s yours, then?”
Another gesture and Roger is gagged again, the two guards at each of his sides, holding him firmly. Tod picked his way around until he was standing behind Roger, and murmured into his ear.
“He’s been mine since the day I laid eyes on him fifteen years ago.”
Roger could do the math. He’d only known Rudolf after he had started at the prosecutor’s office. And that hadn’t been fifteen years ago. Fifteen years ago, Rudolf wouldn’t have even been in law school. He’d still have been in university, and barely twenty. 
Tod had circled around once more, and he seemed to take great delight as it because clear that Roger understood. So then Rudolf- Rudolf had been the mole. Rudolf had been Tod’s all these years. Always. Tod’s smile is entirely unnerving as he pronounces Roger’s sentence - to be disposed of. The two guards are hauling him away soon enough.
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Rudolf is already half-sleeping when the shift in the air tells him that the door to their bedroom has opened. It’s followed by the faint sound of the door shutting and then by the rustling of clothes.
The bed it dipping soon enough, Tod’s hand going to Rudolf’s hip as he slides into bed, pressing kisses to the little raven on Rudolf’s shoulder blade and then to the back of his neck before he spoons Rudolf completely, nuzzling closer.
Sleep comes for Rudolf, then. He’s safe, and home. For Tod’s arms are his home, and there is nowhere safer than in their protective grasp.
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ceilidho · 2 months
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prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 4; ghoap x reader) part 1, part 2, part 3 tags: dubcon/noncon, nsfw
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Much of Ghost’s behaviour is reactive. Oddly passive for the assumptions people often make of him. He doesn’t run from trouble, but certainly he doesn’t seek it out. Aside from a few rare deviations from the norm (running his father out of the city at eighteen, not breaking enough bones to count as restitution, and finally leaving home to enlist), that remains the rule. 
The way Johnny mopes for days after parading his bird around base has Ghost nearly rolling his eyes, already exasperated. He should’ve known his puppy wouldn’t share well. 
It’s worse than he expected though. Johnny mopes for a week straight after the fact, hardly able to meet Ghost’s eyes in briefings. He stares straight down at the floor pathetically, dragging his feet behind him when he’s dismissed. Price notices it right away, raising an eyebrow at Ghost after Johnny leaves the room. 
“Trouble in paradise?” he asks, leaning back in his chair, hands folded over his stomach.
“In the dog house, I reckon. His girl’s pissed at him.”
“Your doing?”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about, sir,” Ghost replies smoothly, face giving away nothing.
Price is hardly convinced. “I’m sure. Nothing to do with you.”
Ghost doesn’t answer that. He waits until he’s dismissed and then takes off down the same hall Johnny just left, curious about wherever his boy’s slunk off to. 
He can’t help the latent sadistic streak in him that curls up in pleasure at the sight of Johnny pouting and squirming whenever he walks into the room. Still, his attitude will need to be rectified soon enough—there’s only so much Ghost will tolerate, only so much disrespect he’ll turn a blind eye to. One day Johnny will look back and reflect on this, and appreciate the extent of Ghost’s magnanimity. 
Still, he doesn’t enjoy being ignored. One week bleeds into the beating heart of the next and Ghost realizes that he’s had enough of the silent treatment. He’s given Johnny more than enough time to come to terms with their new situation. 
He tracks him down to the armoury on a Monday evening after most of the other soldiers have already left for the day, back home or eating supper in the mess hall. It’s empty apart from the two of them, and when Johnny finally notices his presence in the room, his eyes widen almost imperceptibly. He doesn’t flinch at least. Good boy. He’s gotten better at being less reactive, less shaky about being caught off guard. 
“Done for the day, sergeant?” He keeps it light to start, taking a step closer. 
Johnny tenses at the approach. “Yes, sir.” The title would usually satisfy on its own, but it comes strained, polite but removed. 
“Where’d you come from?”
“Layouts and gunners training, sir.”
On any other day, Johnny’s deference might come as a lovely note to end the day on, but not today. It rankles now, the edge of his voice sweetened by a kind of silent dismissal, not giving any more information than what’s required of him. Nothing like the boy who used to open his mouth and sing the world back to him. Ghost has earned his every thought. 
“We have a problem, Soap?”
“No, sir,” Johnny grumbles, still not meeting his eyes. His mouth barely moves when he says the words, teeth all but grit. 
No dealing with this temper tantrum like adults then. For all Johnny must carp and bitch to himself about the hardships that Ghost has put him through, he seems to have no desire to actually deal with the problem. That’s too bad. It would’ve been easy enough to talk it out like grown men.
They’ll have to come to terms some other way.
“Come. We’re fixing this attitude of yours now,” Ghost grunts, turning before Johnny has the opportunity to complain and marching down the hall towards the gym. 
He hears Johnny make a sound like an angry bull before following him down the hall. The loud footfalls against the tile floor betray his simmering anger; it reveals to Ghost what he already knew intuitively. His boy still needs to learn to play well with others. 
In time, this anger will fade into the ether, replaced by Johnny’s old doggish need to please Ghost, but it’s causing too many problems now to be tolerated. He hasn’t gotten to see the bird since the week before. Doesn’t even have a photo of his own to look at when he rubs one out. It would be less aggravating if Johnny were willing to spread his legs and let Ghost rut between his thighs, but they aren’t there yet.
The gym is empty as it usually is around early evening when Ghost opens the door, the lights off from whoever last used it. Johnny follows him sullenly, dragging his feet about it. Ghost’s eye ticks at the show of attitude persisting into this space.
“Lock it behind you,” Ghost says without looking back at him, crossing to where the mats are on the other side of the gym. 
Neither of them are dressed to spar, still clad in their fatigues, but his blood cranks up to boiling when he turns around to watch as Johnny crosses the room angrily, picking up steam now as well. He comes in hot, not even bothering to suss out Ghost’s first move before launching himself at him. 
Ghost staggers back a step at the hit, but he takes it in stride, shifting his weight and using Johnny’s momentum to throw him off, sending him sprawling. He’s quick to get back to his feet, but that moment of carelessness gives Ghost everything he needs. The next time Johnny throws himself at him, Ghost lets him get an arm around his leg and nearly grins to himself when he feels Johnny put all his weight into trying to flip him. 
He knows strength isn’t everything, but there’s something to be said about the several inches and even more kilos he has on Johnny. That plus a decade’s worth of experience. Sparring devolves into a sweat-slicked grapple, Johnny’s shirt coming untucked and rucked up, his hair mussed. He tries to go for the mask, eyes gleaming with a wet, savage glint—forgetting decorum or tact, and just going for the most underhanded maneuver. 
He pays for it when Ghost takes him hard to the floor, catching him with a leg sweep that he might’ve been able to avoid if he were fighting with a clear mind. Anger makes him sloppy though. 
“Fuckin’ bastard—” Johnny grunts when he hits the floor, narrowly avoiding clipping his chin against the mat. 
“Folks never married, so guess you’re right,” Ghost remarks, unbothered. Hardly winded even, only the lightest sheen of sweat on his brow, obscured by the mask. 
His sudden divulgence makes Johnny falter. So rarely does Ghost open even a crack that the momentary honesty catches him off guard, giving Ghost the opportunity to wrangle him into a tight hold. 
Pinning Johnny isn’t an easy task because the kid fights dirty when he feels cornered. Lashes out wildly with his fists when Ghost gets an arm around his neck and holds him in place, less precise than when he’s coolheaded, but still brutal, all raw strength packed behind his punches. He twists Johnny over onto his stomach when the boy tries to buck him off, slamming him down hard enough to knock the wind out of him.
“Gonna tell me what’s got you all riled up now?” Ghost asks, twisting Johnny’s arms behind his back to pin him in place. 
He struggles in Ghost’s hold, trying to find a weak point. The search is fruitless. Ghost’s body weighs him down like a boulder pinning him flush to a dirt-streaked mountainside, forcing the air out of his lungs when he presses down harder. 
“Ye cannae just take her from me—” he spits out, face flushed. He kicks out a foot, trying to free himself, but all Ghost does is shift slightly to press his shin to Johnny’s calf, holding it down. “I told ye she was different and ye had to—and now she willnae even fuckin’ talk to me. Barely texts me, willnae answer my calls. I cannae—I can’…” 
His voice trails off on a hitch. Not quite a sob, but a frustrated, wretched sound. 
“Held that in for a while, didn’t ya?” Ghost murmurs, holding Johnny down with ease when he struggles again, trying to wrench his arms out of Ghost’s hold. 
“I almost fuckin’—almost just fuckin’ gave her to ye,” Johnny says, shame thick in his voice. “Thought maybe it wouldnae be worth…jus’ dinnae want a girl coming between us. But she’s—I told ye, Lt, she’s special, I cannae jus’—I cannae jus’ let her go. And now she doesnae want anythin’ to do with me.”
Ghost doesn’t bother pointing out the absurdity of that statement. As if Johnny could give him something that’s already his. 
“Not trying to steal your bird, Johnny.” He taps Johnny’s cheek, a little reprimand. It makes him blink and scrunch up his nose. “What’d be the point of that?”
He forgets how young Johnny is sometimes, just now nearing the end of his twenties. Still wet behind the ears, all blood flushed and pink cheeked. Green still to the realities of the world and Ghost’s presence in his life (permanent, fixed; unchanging). 
There isn’t a version of him that wants someone who doesn’t also want Johnny. Inconceivable. After everything that they’ve been through together, the root of him and what he wants is inextricably tied with what Johnny wants—at times, Ghost almost wishes he could live inside his head, just a constant stream of Johnny’s thoughts into his. 
Johnny twists his head enough to glare over his shoulder at Ghost. “The fuck are ye on about? Ye grabbed her ass in front of God ‘n everyone, for Christ’s sake. Said your intentions loud ‘n clear.”
“‘Course I did. She’s got a nice arse, doesn’t she?”
“You’re really startin’ to fuck with my head, Ghost, I dinnae understand what ye—”
“You keep running your mouth off about trying to take the girl from you—I don’t need to take anything.” He stresses the word to be clear, forcing Johnny back down when he tries to buck Ghost off again. This time he stays in place, both calves pinned down to the mat, cheek pressed into the fabric when Ghost slots a hand into the scruff of his mohawk, forcing his head down. “Quit struggling—you’re not getting back up. We’re sorting this shit out now so you quit moping around base and giving me a fuckin’ headache.”
“Stop exaggerating—I havenae even opened my mouth around ye in days. I’m no’ doing anything to your head—”
“How the fuck am I supposed to think when you keep running away?”
The air hangs heavy in the wake of his words, the oxygen all but sucked out of the room. 
“The two of you are mine,” Ghost says in a low, harsh voice, the sound making Johnny flinch against the mat. “I’m not asking for just one of you. You’re out of your fuckin’ mind if you think I’d leave you out of this, mutt.”
He’d sooner lose them both, but that’s another scenario that he’d never tolerate. 
With some effort, Ghost tips Johnny over onto his back, holding him down before he can start to struggle again. He keeps his wrists trapped behind his back, forcing Johnny to arch his back off the floor, presenting himself. From his vantage point, it’s easy for Ghost to flick his gaze down and find Johnny’s dick pressed hard against the zipper of his pants, all plumped up from being pinned to the ground. 
“Good, you’re already hard,” Ghost grunts approvingly, rolling his hips down to alleviate some of the pressure building up in his groin. “Haven’t come since she left the other week, I bet.”
Panic flares red hot in Johnny’s eyes, widening when Ghost settles deeper between his legs, his own hard cock unmistakable. “Wait—wait, Ghost—I’m no’—I’m no’—”
It would be a stretch to say that anything softens in him, but a part of Ghost does feel for the boy. He’s been around Johnny long enough to know his persuasion—strictly women with the occasional appreciative glances towards some men. An appreciation he relegates to furtive, guilty glances, holding it inside of him like a nasty secret that he’ll never part with. Too riddled with Catholic guilt and the ease of just playing it straight. 
Ghost has no intention of making it easy on him though. 
He tries to imagine what it might be like if he were on the other end, but for him it’s only ever been cunts and Johnny and the bird. Now just the latter two hold any weight. 
His protests only last as long as it takes Ghost to unfasten their belts and zippers, fishing Johnny’s cock out first. The second his rough hand wraps around Johnny’s length, the words die on the boy’s lips, replaced by a choked off grunt. His balls are full enough to corroborate Ghost’s words—he probably hasn’t come since seeing his girl off the other day, too frustrated and upset to jack off, the ducts shut, working himself up into a frothy mess only for it to slip right out of his hands at the last second. 
Johnny’s eyes roll back when Ghost grips both their cocks in his fist, slicking his hand up with Johnny’s precome. Sweat sluices down the sides of his neck. He looks good with his tongue tied up in knots, thoughts emptying out through his ears in rivulets. 
Even with Ghost’s hand as big as it is, he can’t wrap it all the way around the two of them. Johnny’s come provides a nice glide though, lubricating the underside of his shaft when Ghost grinds up into his fist. 
It spurs him into a kind of ​​protolithic fervour, desperate only to come. The iron rich scent of blood and sweat makes Ghost salivate, eyes drawn to the tender skin of his neck, the flush now riding high, up and over his cheekbones. Lips bitten red, also swollen with blood. In a better mood, Ghost might indulge him, might roll up his mask and lick into the wet mouth hanging open deliciously, teasing him, but there’ll be time for that later. 
He slurs out Ghost’s name when he comes, Simon ripped from his lips like it was dug clean out of his soul. His come splatters across his belly and shirt in thin, watery spurts, the wind knocked out of him again. 
Johnny squirms when Ghost doesn’t let go of their cocks, hand still dragging up and down, mumbling that he’s too sensitive, fuck, lemme go, I cannae—
“I’ll stroke your cock and grab the bird’s ass whenever I feel like it,” Ghost growls down at him, at the end of his patience now. He pants out a ragged breath when his cock throbs at a particularly whorish moan dropping broken from Johnny’s mouth. “I’ll nut in her cunt and make you lick it out if I want. And you’ll fuckin’ thank me for giving you a taste.”
Johnny almost goes nonverbal at that, a leg trying to kick out weakly even though it’s still pinned down under Ghost’s heavy thigh. His dick twitches against Ghost’s, a valiant effort. 
When Ghost comes, it settles in a thick, viscous mess across Johnny’s stomach, pooling around his belly button. It radiates hot down his back, the ache in his lower spine abating momentarily. Can only imagine how much better it would feel balls deep in Johnny’s ass or the bird’s pussy, a wet warmth clutching him tight, legs wrapped around his waist to drag him closer. 
He’ll have that soon enough.
A ragged wheeze is pulled from Johnny’s chest when Ghost drags his cock through it, spreading it over his stomach. It’s worse when Ghost dips his fingers into the mess, a sticky blend of both their come, before bringing his fingers up to Johnny’s mouth, forcing them past his lips and over his teeth and gums. Johnny sputters at the taste, going cross-eyed to look down at Ghost’s hand. 
There’s no time for pillowtalk or soft words though. Even if there were, niceties come out of Ghost’s mouth like a ring of smoke. Still, the thought of the bird not returning Johnny’s calls or texts makes him bristle, his annoyance renewed. His own disinclination to communicate aside—a waste of words as far as Ghost’s concerned, he says more with his actions anyway—none of this works if the girl won’t talk it out. 
Probably pent up, the stubborn thing. He’ll have to sort that out too. It keeps him young at least. 
“C’mon, Johnny,” Ghost says, rising to his feet. He dusts his hands off on his fatigues as if nothing happened, then holds out a hand for Johnny to grab. “Let’s go see our bird.”
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edenesth · 3 months
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The Way to His Heart [8]
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Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader
AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 3.6k
Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.
Part 7 | Fic Masterlist | Part 9
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"Sir, the dressmaker has arrived with the mistress' first batch of clothes. Should I send him directly to the House of Lotus?" Jongho asked tentatively from the entrance of his master's study.
Removing his hands from his head, Seonghwa looked up and shook his head miserably, "Lord, no. Send him to me first," The assistant bowed and went to do as he was told, "Right away, sir."
Hongjoong entered the study without bothering to knock, hands propped on his hip as he stared at your husband, unamused, "Would you mind explaining why I'm here instead of presenting the new clothes to your wife, Park Seonghwa?"
"I need advice, Hongjoong." The general croaked, feeling quite lost for once. He had rarely ever been in such a situation; who knew all it took was one woman to put him in such misery. Not even the most vicious enemies he had fought in war could have ever fazed him this much.
He returned from work the day before, enthusiastically sharing his plans for the grand wedding he wanted to give you. However, things went south when he dropped the bomb about the visit to your old home, foolishly believing you would express joy at the prospect of flaunting your newfound happiness to your wicked family. Instead, you were gripped with fear at the idea. You ended up retiring to your quarters early and refused to come out ever since.
Goddamnit, I'm the biggest moron ever.
The dressmaker raised an amused brow, having never seen Seonghwa like this before. He went over to sit down across from his friend, "Hmm, I didn't think you'd be having trouble in paradise this soon. Let's hear it; we'll see if there's anything I can do for you and that lovely wife of yours."
Taking a deep breath, your husband started from the beginning, recounting every single thing that happened from the start of your arranged marriage until the present.
"Wait, you're taking her back to that wretched place? No wonder she's upset, you idiot! You said it yourself; she suffered so badly being caged in there all her life. I mean, sure, your cause is very noble—wanting to make her family pay for what they've done with this plan of yours. But you'd been so focused on that, you forgot how traumatising it could be for her, huh? You really didn't think that one through, my friend."
Letting out a groan, the general pulled at his hair, "Yes, thank you for repeating it all to me like I didn't already know what I did wrong. Now, tell me what exactly it is that I can do to make it all better."
"You're welcome. Oh, I'll tell you what to do, all right. You best keep your dumbass seated here while I talk to her," instructed Hongjoong, watching expectantly as your husband frowned, "What? Why should you talk to her? It's my mess; I should be the one to clean it up."
Sighing, the dressmaker explained, "Look, we all know the only way for you to make things better is to not take her back to the damn house at all. But you do have a point, okay? You've come this far with your plan, and as much as it sucks, she must go there with you in order for this to work out. So, you stay put, and let me convince her to go willingly with you, got it?"
Seonghwa nodded reluctantly, realising his friend was right. As much as he hated how charming Hongjoong was and how persuasive he could be, he would have to rely on those skills to help you see things in the bigger picture. Sure, you were not privy to any details about the revenge, but hopefully, he will be able to make you at least want to stand up to your family for once.
"Lady Park, it's Hongjoong. I've brought your first batch of clothing. May I have permission to enter?" Blinking in surprise, you straightened up, not expecting to hear the dressmaker's voice, "O-okay, please come in."
Despite the anxious state you'd been in since the revelation your husband had dropped upon you the night before, you couldn't help but smile at the unusually colourful outfit of your visitor. Eunsook followed behind him with a group of servants filing in to deliver the precious cargo into your quarters.
The head maid felt relieved to see you smiling again, even if it was only a little. She had been concerned about you after witnessing your retreat into your old shell the previous night, as the fear you demonstrated reminded everyone of your initial arrival.
In an effort to distract you from your upsetting thoughts, the dressmaker quickly pulled out a few designs he thought you'd love, "Come, take a look at this! I made it the way you preferred and added a little touch of my magic. What do you think?"
Fortunately, his strategy worked like a charm, and you immediately moved over to him with sparkly eyes, marvelling at some of the most beautiful hanboks you'd ever seen, even prettier than the ones he had displayed in his shop.
As you admired the clothes in front of you, Hongjoong exchanged a knowing look with the elderly woman. Nodding, she quietly exited your room along with the rest of the servants, leaving you alone with your husband's old friend.
But you weren't entirely alone, of course.
Unbeknownst to you, Seonghwa was right outside, listening intently. He didn't spare any of his servants a glance as they all passed by him with a deep bow, waving his hand carelessly in a gesture to ask them to leave quickly.
"Hey, you haven't answered me. Do you like them, Lady Park?" The dressmaker asked, a teasing smile on his face as he found your endearing shyness adorable.
You nodded quickly, "Yes, I do. I love them. They're all perfect. I just... don't know if I deserve to wear any of these." The general felt his heart clench at your response, realising you were still far from being able to love yourself.
With a scoff, Hongjoong moved to stand beside you, "I'll have you know I only make dresses for people I deem worthy of them. Not just anyone can wear my designs, you know. And you, by far, are probably my favourite client. So that says a lot."
Your husband silently agreed with those words, resisting the urge to rush in there and hold you tight, to tell you that you deserved only the best, that you deserved everything good in the world.
Lowering your head, you fiddled with your fingers before replying in a small voice, "You're only saying that because I'm the general's wife..."
Sighing lightly, the dressmaker turned to face you, "You're not wrong... but that's exactly because not just anyone can be Lady Park. Many women before you tried to be in your position. Regardless of their efforts, he never would have given them the time of day. Yet, he wholeheartedly accepted you."
Recognising the doubt in your eyes, he further explained, "I understand if you think these are just words. But that's probably because you don't know the general like I do. We've known each other since joining the military in our teens. Back then, the Seonghwa I knew would never bat an eyelash at any woman."
As you slowly looked up to meet his kind eyes, intrigued to learn more about your husband's past, he continued, "Those rumours about him being the cold-blooded general were not lies. He really was as merciless as they say. He still is, just not to you. When I saw him again for the first time after years that day, I couldn't believe the man in front of me was the same friend I once knew. He's different around you; he's different because of you."
"It's evident that you're special to him, that you mean something to him. He cares so much about you; do you realise that?"
Tears welled up in your eyes, and you hurriedly blinked them back. The thought of someone genuinely caring for you still seemed surreal despite the amount of care that had been shown to you since living here. However, you were starting to understand that he was right.
Hongjoong grinned, seeing the effectiveness of his words, "You're the first and only woman who can tame Park Seonghwa, so you are beyond worthy of my dresses."
Before you could even attempt to protest, he held up a hand, "And don't bother telling me I'm wrong because I'm never wrong."
You couldn't help but giggle at his sassy words, and he smiled sincerely at you, saying, "So don't you dare question whether you deserve these clothes. You're the only one who deserves them because these are made only for you, do you understand?"
This time, you nodded with a wide smile.
"I want you to wear my dresses proudly and show the world who you are: the great Lady Park, the only woman General Park wants as his wife. No one will dare disrespect or look down on you again."
Feeling as if he knew exactly what had been worrying you, you felt touched. He was right; you were not who you used to be. You had no reason to cower from your family, recalling their belittling assumptions about your survival in this marriage. Now was your chance to prove them wrong.
With newfound determination, you nodded firmly, "You're right, I will. Thank you, Hongjoong. You're a good friend; Seonghwa is lucky to have you."
He crossed his arms over his chest cheekily, "I sure am. That fool hasn't a clue how fortunate he is."
Mission accomplished.
Pumping his fists in victory, your husband silently cheered outside, brushing off the playful taunts from his friend. Just this once, he would forgive Kim Hongjoong.
"Are you ready, my dear?"
The general turned to you as your carriage came to a stop, marking your arrival at what you assumed to be the Jang estate, your former prison. With a resolute nod, you smiled up at him, "I am."
As you moved to exit the vehicle, your husband halted you. Cupping your face in his hands, he gazed reassuringly into your eyes, "Remember, whatever happens, I'm here with you. You're not alone from now on; I'll always be here to protect you."
"I know, Seonghwa. I believe in you."
His heart melted at those words, and he couldn't resist pressing a lingering kiss onto your forehead. You fluttered your eyes closed, holding onto his wrists, cherishing the warmth he was providing.
"Alright, let's go." Leaving one final peck on your cheek, he got out of the carriage and swiftly helped you down, his strong arm securely wrapped around your waist. Eunsook stood there, mouth agape, that was initially meant to be her responsibility but she realised her assistance was no longer needed at the moment.
Jongho grinned, nudging the elderly woman on the shoulder as they followed their master and mistress into the minister's estate, "Come on, we've got work to do."
Taking a deep breath, you surveyed the familiar surroundings that once made you feel small. Feeling a reassuring squeeze on your hand, you found comfort in your husband's presence.
Yes, he's here with you now.
Nothing bad will happen.
His grip on your hand tightened, and his warm smile, reserved only for you, vanished when a few of your father's servants nervously stumbled out, bowing deeply before both of you, "Good morning, General Park. Welcome to the Jang estate."
The brave front you had put on seemed to falter slightly as you realised the servants here remained the same, showing no acknowledgement despite you no longer being their prisoner. Seonghwa, glaring at the maids in front of him, growled in a low voice, "You've left out Lady Park. Will you not greet my wife?"
Gulping on behalf of the servants, you witnessed the return of the general's intimidating demeanour. Hongjoong was right; he was still terrifying, just not to you.
The maids bowed deeper, "B-but sir—"
"What is going on here?" That voice resonated across the courtyard, causing your heart to plummet to the lowest pit of your stomach. Perhaps you weren't ready to face them at all. Your father emerged from the main hall, wearing an expression that was far from pleased.
You pressed closer to your husband, and instinctively, he wrapped an arm around your back, pulling you close. The minister's eyebrow raised in surprise at your refined appearance; he nearly did not recognise you. You were even more stunning than on the day you left this place, seemingly given a complete makeover.
Aside from that, he realised the general had meant his words when he had spoken so highly of you during assembly. Witnessing the intimacy between the two of you, there was undeniable evidence of shared affection. Your father began to question whether marrying you to his enemy was a mistake in the first place.
Seonghwa smirked, "Ahh, Minister Jang, it seems your servants do not know proper manners. They did not greet my wife, and that, to me, is punishable."
The old man felt his eye twitch at the general's satisfied grin before responding, "Well, I'm their master, so I decide what is punishable, General Park."
"Right, well, I'm just looking out for you. Wouldn't want people to find out what rotten-mannered staff my father-in-law has in his estate, not knowing how to show respect to even the general's wife."
"You do realise that before she became your wife, she's my daughter first." Your father sneered, and you felt sick at that, to be called his daughter when you've never once been treated as such.
Remaining unfazed, your husband retorted, "All the more reasons for them to show respect to their eldest miss then, no?"
Jongho and Eunsook bowed their heads in an effort to hide their snickers at the minister's red face flushing in embarrassment. He should have known better than to think he could win the general in an argument, "R-right. What are you fools standing around for? Show Lady Park some bloody respect!"
The line of servants bowed all the way down pathetically, "Yes, master! Good morning, General Park and Lady Park! Welcome to the Jang estate!" They chanted loudly, enough to bring about the rest of your family, coming out to witness what all the fuss was about.
"Very well, let us head in then." With a bored expression, Seonghwa walked into the hall with you, moving right past your stepmother and stepsisters intentionally, paying them no mind as he helped you into a seat before settling down beside you.
All four of the women standing in the main hall were rooted to their spots, eyes bulging as they took in the sight of you and your husband. First of all, you were nearly unrecognisable. If they thought you looked pretty on the day you got married, you were now almost a hundred times more beautiful, though they would rather die than ever admit it out loud.
Beyond your enhanced appearance, they were more taken aback by the general's beauty. He was nothing like they had imagined; he must have been one of the most attractive men ever, or at least the most handsome one they had seen so far.
Suddenly, your stepsisters were even angrier than they were upon learning about your stupid grand wedding. They were now furious with their father for never having told them about how good-looking General Park truly was. If only they knew, they would have volunteered to marry him themselves.
But what if there was still hope for them?
What if they had a chance?
After all, you hadn't officially wed Seonghwa yet and were merely here to discuss plans for the upcoming ceremony. Perhaps, with enough effort, they could still win him over. If a peasant like you could seduce the general, why couldn't any of them? With this determination in mind, the three stepsisters promptly began adjusting their appearances as you all gathered around the main hall.
You didn't appreciate the way your stepsisters were eyeing your husband, although you understood their motives. Sensing your discomfort, Seonghwa moved closer to you in his seat, whispering in your ear, "Are you feeling alright, my dear?"
Nodding lightly, you looked up with a small smile, "I am, as long as you're with me," He couldn't resist smiling at your words as he gave you a gentle peck on the head, "Good."
That should be me!
The three stepsisters clenched their fists, their fury intensifying as they witnessed the handsome general being affectionate with you. It should have been them; the title of the general's wife was more befitting a noblewoman like them, not a rat like you. How dare you sit there in their place as if you deserved it?
In an attempt to break the silence, Jinah cleared her throat and made her move, "Have you been well, unnie? I missed you so much! Did you know how worried I was about you? You must have had such a hard time, especially after you adamantly refused to marry General Park."
Seonghwa raised a brow in amusement, while you remained quiet, unsure how to respond to such a blatant lie. Jinjoo scoffed at your lack of response, "Unnie! Will you really not answer Jinah at all? You've always been like that, so ungrateful when we care so much about you!"
"Really? My wife being ungrateful? That's wild. I cannot imagine her like that at all." Your husband chuckled, holding you close when he felt you begin to tremble.
Jinhee's fists shook with envy as she nodded pitifully, "Yes, that's because you haven't known her well enough, my lord. She can be so scary when she's mad, you know how the eldest usually are."
Minister Jang rubbed a tired hand over his head when he realised what his stepdaughters were trying to do. Of course, these foolish girls would easily be blinded by the general's appearance. Even his own wife, seated beside him, found it difficult to take her eyes off the gorgeous young man.
Jongho and Eunsook, positioned behind you and their master, were making every effort to contain the irritation they felt. The audacity of these women to feign innocence after what they've put you through all these years. They were once again thankful not to have any of these conniving foxes as their mistress.
Rubbing his thumbs over your hands, Seonghwa laughed sarcastically in disbelief, "I'm sorry, I just find that so hard to believe. Are you sure you're not all talking about yourselves?" In an instant, his smile dropped, and he sent your stepsisters a death stare as if daring them to continue spouting more ridiculous lies about you.
Left in stunned silence, they blinked nervously and avoided his eyes, unprepared for his questioning. It was clear that they hadn't planned their silly little act thoroughly.
Damn it, how did that worthless thing manage to gain his favour?
"That's enough." The minister declared firmly, not wanting his stepdaughters to continue embarrassing themselves. All he wanted was to get the general out of his house as soon as possible. Every moment that Seonghwa remained felt like a threat; your father was walking on eggshells around him.
Pushing himself off his seat, the old man addressed your husband, "You mentioned wanting to see the environment your wife grew up in, right? Let's proceed with that before we delve into discussions about your wedding arrangements. I don't have all day."
"Sure, can't wait." Seonghwa responded smugly, standing up with your hand securely in his. A sense of unease washed over you as you wondered what kind of deception your father would employ. Surely, they wouldn't be stupid enough to reveal your actual room to the general. Dread filled you, and you longed to return home.
Your real home, not this nightmare.
« Preview of Part 9 »
As you all followed the minister around the estate while he showed the general what was supposed to be your old room, Jongho exchanged a glance with the private investigator who was still posing as a staff member in the estate.
"This is unnie's room; she has the biggest and nicest one out of all of us. She's so lucky and doesn't even know it. I'm the youngest and I have the smallest room; I'd honestly be happy to have anything at all." Jinjoo said innocently, playing with a strand of hair as she batted her eyelashes at Seonghwa.
You stared blankly at the room supposedly designated as yours. It was merely a guest room rearranged with some of your stepsisters' belongings to create the illusion of long-term habitation. Sensing Jinah and Jinhee's intense gazes on you, you turned to find them glaring daggers at you as if daring you to speak up and disclose the truth to your husband.
If you voiced your denial, who would believe you? It was your entire family against you alone. Would there even be a point in trying?
Just as doubt started to creep in, Seonghwa wrapped an arm around you, reminding you of his support, "Is that true, my dear? Is this your room? It doesn't really seem to be your style at all."
Everyone held their breath, awaiting your response, but you remained silent, fixing your gaze on the familiar space where you spent your entire life, now masquerading as a storeroom.
"What is it that you're staring at so intently, hm? Let's go take a look."
Oh, crap.
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Shit will go down in the next part, I assure you. Patience, my dearest readers, patience HAHA this part was focused more on setting the stage for the main event.😈
Also, I've created a mood board for this fic. If you haven't already checked it out, go take a look! I might consider making another one that depicts Seonghwa's estate if I'm able to find the right images.
As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3
Tag list (1/3): @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo @sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @thunderous-wolf @itstheghostofmypast @professormingisglasses @deltamoon666 @avantalem @famishalll @yungilia @soobiverse @joongified @scuzmunkie @http-gyu @mentoslol @atinyreads @angel-hyuckie @anxiousskylar @onedumbho3 @narashii @ddaeing @sanstreasure0305 @sohnfile @scarfac3 @dreamingofyeo @puppyminnnie @tinyteezer @vantediary @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @aliona124754 @bts-army380 @lilactangerine @atinyniki @pay13 @1117promises @xoxkii @st4rcig4r @hikarii02 @nescaffei @xdolls-crownx @ashrocker123 @skzline @minkiflwr @starssongs98 @baeksofty @skz1-4-3 @kawaiikels @madnpan @maoyueze @en-happiness @cheolliehugs @persnyako @startinystay @chngbnwf @fatspecimen @christinerose380 @stfu-rina @kyukyustar @taytayy178
Tag list (cont.): see comment/reply section
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All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.
706 notes · View notes
lesbiannancytruther · 2 years
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okay so @sorry-i-panicked accidentally reminded me wing aus exist so this one is inspired by them💪
anyways u know i have to make a ronance wing au like they’re practically made for it
switching things up by going with robin first! now: i know what you’re thinking. and NO. im not making her wings robin wings. i’m going with one of the smartest birds in the world- the kea parrot! :) they’re very curious and aren’t afraid of pissing people off lol. they’re also known for solving puzzles! their wings are so pretty and they’re known for their problem solving and though they can’t talk, they communicate effectively :)
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LISTEN IK WHAT UR GONNA SAY
yeah yeah gay wings BUT im thinking robin has a pretty impressive wingspan! wider than usual and definitely long. she’s still clumsy in the air, but i like to think that sometimes, when she’s really in the groove, she looks pretty graceful. absolutely the type to wrap nancy up in her wings <3
they also move forward by hopping sideways?😭 insert robin having weird coordination joke here
okay onto nancy! a lot of this is biased by the fact that i want nancy to have pink in her wings so bad😩 so im going with the intelligent galah cockatoo! very intelligent and has a knack for picking up on speech and vocab, like a good journalist. while i don’t usually describe nancy as friendly she definitely CAN be and this is an au where people have wings so im not 1:1 comparison ok </3
also female galah’s have pink eyes u better BET ur ass im applying that to miss wheeler
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look at this its so pretty😩
im thinking nancy’s wings are a bit big for her but nothing crazy! i like to think nancy is a talented flier bc she did it so much as a kid, really one of the only ways she felt free. galah’s are fast and known for acrobatics. she takes good care of her wings, making sure her feathers are neat and cared for
im thinking robin actually neglects to care for her own wings pretty often with her feathers always uncomfortably disorganized and messy, which gets her pretty frustrated with her wings. based on rebel robin her parents aren’t abusive they’re just really weird in a not so great way, so i can see her not really knowing how? nancy gets one look at them and is like “if you don’t sit down so i can FIX THESE”
nancy makes it a habit well into their friendship and eventual relationship, teaching robin how to herself but doing it often anyways because it’s relaxing and a bonding moment okay
the first time nancy see’s robin’s wings she’s awestruck bc they’re so pretty, especially when robin takes care of them, she always compliments them
robin also loves nancy’s wings, they’re so her and they’re very soft, especially near the inside by where they attach to her back, which nancy is super hesitant to let robin touch at first but eventually she’s welcome to, because she trusts her and especially because it feels good
firm believer in bird traits affecting them. nancy, following galah traits of nesting in tree hollows, always feels safe completely surrounded, always being fond of those kid princess tents because they surrounded her on all sides and were comfy! she also loves the smell of eucalyptus.
robin feels most comfortable in a nest of pillows and blankets on the floor, usually up against a wall, as following kea nesting habits of setting up nests in between tree roots!
the two of them team up and build the best blanket forts on the floor and they cuddle! it’s something special for the two of them and they try to do it often.
they both love fruit sm😩 for breakfast they eat fruit all the time. nancy cuts the fruit as the one of the two of them that is allowed to handle a knife (learned the hard way w an er trip) and robin arranges them into fun displays that make nancy laugh and kiss her on the cheek. nancy can’t handle meat well/just doesn’t like it as galahs are strictly herbivores so they like to try a ton of new stuff with vegetarian spins
feathers are often exchanged between the two, nancy wears a cluster of robin’s feathers on a necklace (made by robin) and robin keeps nancy’s softest feathers as a sensory thing, they’re really easy to run her her fingers over and keep her grounded, you can usually see pink feathers in her hand or in her pocket.
im thinking their first kiss happens mid air bc they’re going on a flying date that’s definitely not a date but is a date and robin sees nancy do this little spin and just laugh and robin just dives for her, cups her face and kisses her. nancy is only a little surprised before she eagerly returns it, going to wrap her arms around robin’s shoulders before quickly going to her waist to keep robin from falling and she has to remind robin through breathless giggles to “keep flapping birdie i can’t hold both of us” and robin quickly adjusts so that they can continue and
AGH
i love them so bad
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merakiui · 10 months
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[✎] twisted wonderland masterlist
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✿ = nsfw ❀ = sfw ⭑ = yandere ✼ = brain rot (often short drabbles)
a collection of my written works. it will be updated frequently.
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ʜᴇᴀʀᴛꜱʟᴀʙʏᴜʟ
riddle ➳ love me not ⭑❀ ➳ tutor riddle ⭑✿✼ ➳ riddle hits you with his car ⭑✼ ➳ goldfish mer ⭑✼ ➳ more goldfish mer ⭑✿✼ ➳ accidental pregnancy ✼✿ ➳ boyfriend ⭑✿ ➳ getting off to your notes ⭑✿ ➳ fairy-tale felicity ⭑✿ ➳ the birds and the bees ⭑✿
trey ➳ single father ⭑✼ ➳ everything is going to be okay ⭑
cater ➳ step-brother cater ⭑✼
ace  ➳ to be added.
deuce ➳ to be added.
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ꜱᴀᴠᴀɴᴀᴄʟᴀᴡ
leona ➳ to be added.
ruggie ➳ accidental pregnancy ✼✿
jack ➳ to be added.
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ᴏᴄᴛᴀᴠɪɴᴇʟʟᴇ
azul ➳ sea glass ⭑❀ ➳ childhood crush ⭑❀ ➳ princess au ⭑✿ ➳ ceo azul ⭑✿ ➳ contractual fwb ⭑✿ ➳ preferences ✼✿ ➳ magicord mod ⭑✿✼ ➳ stalker ex ⭑✼ ➳ maid outfit ⭑✿ ➳ vampire ⭑✼ ➳ clingy, codependent boyfriend ⭑✼ ➳ professor ashengrotto ⭑✿ ➳ ob-gyn azul ⭑✿ ➳ camboy azul ⭑✿ ➳ in captivity ⭑✿ ➳ his blueberry eyes (anagapesis in paradise) ⭑ ➳ long-distance love ⭑✿ ➳ simply business ⭑✿ ➳ maybe, i'm afraid ✿ ➳ タコの花嫁 ⭑✿ ➳ risky rascality (tsum sex) ✿ ➳ perverse phantasmagoria: a tentacular theatre for the timid ⭑✿ ➳ angels in tibet ⭑✿
jade ➳ sea glass ⭑❀ ➳ obsessive fan ⭑✿ ➳ preferences ✼✿ ➳ alpha stalker ⭑✿ ➳ android ⭑✿ ➳ stalker ex ⭑✼ ➳ maid outfit ⭑✿ ➳ in captivity ⭑✿ ➳ non-con thoughts ⭑✿ ➳ death row undertow ⭑✿ ➳ monops's reflection ⭑✿ ➳ the most dangerous game [1] [2] ⭑✿ ➳ RABU ⭑✿
floyd ➳ sea glass ⭑❀ ➳ obsessive fan ⭑✿ ➳ preferences ✼✿ ➳ stalker ex ⭑✼ ➳ alpha prince ✿ ➳ serial killer ⭑ ➳ maid outfit ⭑✿ ➳ fluffy floyd & captivity ⭑ ➳ scummy, sleazy floyd ✿ ➳ in captivity ⭑✿ ➳ in captivity (omegaverse) ⭑✿ ➳ ebb and flow ⭑✿
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ꜱᴄᴀʀᴀʙɪᴀ
kalim ➳ to be added.
jamil ➳ to be added.
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ᴘᴏᴍᴇꜰɪᴏʀᴇ
vil ➳ to be added.
rook ➳ 11:11 — sugar dew sewn anew ⭑
epel ➳ to be added.
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ɪɢɴɪʜʏᴅᴇ
idia ➳ changing alpha to omega ⭑✿ ➳ conditioning ⭑✿ ➳ magic dildo ✿
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ᴅɪᴀꜱᴏᴍɴɪᴀ
malleus ➳ 100% ⭑ ➳ never-ending noctuary; love forevermore ⭑✿
lilia ➳ general & his spoil of war ⭑✼
silver ➳ to be added.
sebek ➳ to be added.
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miscellaneous writings ➳ incubus au ⭑✼ ➳ reverse isekai ⭑✼ ➳ apocalypse au ⭑ other writings for this au can be found under the tag twst apocalypse au. ➳ apocalypse au index ⭑ ➳ yandere tsum tsums ⭑ ➳ virginification concepts ✿
rollo flamme ➳ eden ⭑✿ ➳ crow & goat in courtship ⭑✿
918 notes · View notes
dragon-ascent · 9 months
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Zhongli plays Animal Crossing - some headcanons.
★彡modern au of course, Zhongli is silly
Lending Zhongli your Animal Crossing copy was honestly one of the best decisions ever made, honestly:
“So, am I to help these animals cross the road?"
"You don't, my love."
"Then why is it titled 'Animal Crossing?'"
He's pleasantly surprised when he finds out he needs to build an island paradise for a bunch of furry friends, as he calls them. He already has a few ideas in mind, he says.
He names his island "Liyuef"... he meant to put Liyue but didn't know how to backspace.
Zhongli...dear, sweet Zhongli treats all of his villagers like real people. When he accidentally bonks one on the head with his net, he gets SO sad. "Oh, please pardon me, Sprinkle...I did not mean to...oh! I did it again. It was not my intention, I assure you, miss Sprinkle. Please do not be angry..."
He also gets sad when a villager asks to move out, but he accepts it with grace. "Who am I to deny their wishes?" he'd say, as he lets his beloved Wolfgang go.
"Zhongli, they're literally fictional..."
Gulliver is an interesting character to him. "This bird washed up on my island...he'd been drinking, no doubt. He reminds me of a certain bard." And when Gulliver gifts him something after he locates all his phone parts, Zhongli says "Ah, thank you Barbatos...I mean Gulliver."
And when Redd visits, he doesn't even need an online art guide...he knows real from fake because he's just that knowledgeable about art. That sly fox's got nothing on this old man.
Zhongli also eagerly listens to everything Blathers has to say, fascinated by all the wildlife that can be caught around the island. Sometimes at dinner he'd relay these facts to you. "Darling, today the owl friend told me that sturgeons can.."
Zhongli’s used to having other people pay for his stuff. So when he finds out he needs to pay off his loans, bridges and stairs by himself, he’s a little put off, but works hard to accumulate enough bells to pay everything off himself.
Speaking of bells…man has NO fiscal responsibility at. All. He buys out the shop and boutique on a regular basis even if he has no need for what they’re selling, simply because “Ah, but the little raccoon children have worked hard to procure these items for me, so it is only fair that I thank them, yes?”
TERRAFORMING is his absolute favourite thing to do! He likes to make random chunks of land all over Liyuef because they remind him of how he can harness Geo energy :)
And honestly, he has such an eye for design and detail. Liyuef is soon well-adorned with beautiful pathways, tastefully-placed monuments and flowers, and an artfully arranged neighbourhood, almost reminiscent of the real-life Liyue it was meant to mimic. “Darling, miss Isabelle has given my land a rating of five stars!”
Soon, Liyuef becomes a thriving paradise, and he's happy :) he thanks you for showing him the crossing of the animals <3
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mint-yooxgi · 9 months
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{14} - Paradise Gardens - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader
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Yandere AU & Demon AU - Book Two to Hotel California
Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humour, Smut
Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on Seonghwa near the end, Slight Hongjoong)
Words: 16,125
Warnings: Brief mentions of anxiety and PTSD (not OC), mentions of blood, weapons. Smut: Oral (m. rec.), subby!Hwa, minor knife play and begging, I think that's it. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.
A/n: I'm glad I split this into two parts. I knew it was going to be long! And boy oh boy, who's excited for the next chapter? I'm excited for the next chapter! iykyk ;)) As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~
Also, gentle reminder that I don’t do tag lists.
Mini Masterlist - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten - Part Eleven - Part Twelve - Part Thirteen
There’s an eager spring to your step as Yeosang leads you over to a side door, of which he’s just made materialize in front of your eyes. Not even the grumbling of the other seven males behind you can bring down your mood, excitement coursing through your veins as he opens the door, holding it open for you to step through in the next second.
“I’m still not used to you all being able to do that.” You comment, smiling at Yeosang in thanks as you step into the new room.
It’s a bit dark, so you can’t quite see much, but you can feel them all stepping in behind you.
“It’s great for hiding things in plain sight.” San comments, attempting to step in beside you, only for Yeosang to take his place in an instant.
“I can imagine- holy shit!” The moment the lights come on, you’re greeted by a room full of bows and arrows of various shapes and sizes.
Your jaw drops, eyes going wide as you take in the grand space before you. It’s a simple room in all aspects, square in design with mounts and racks to hold all of the various weapons that you can just tell all belong to Yeosang. Not that you would doubt that for even a minute.
Softly, you hear the sound of the door shutting behind you.
Pure excitement thrums through your veins, your body practically vibrating as you take in the space around you. Still, you keep your distance, not wanting to touch anything and risk damaging or breaking any of the various weapons lining the room. The urge to touch everything in sight is quite strong, and you cannot help the way your fingers twitch, almost subconsciously, at your sides.
“Go ahead, Dearest,” Yeosang smiles gently at you, a small nod to his head. “Don’t hold back.”
You do not need to be told twice.
Almost as soon as the words have left his mouth, you’re zipping over to the wall in front of you and inspecting all the different styles of bows. There’s a giddiness to your movements as you look over some more traditional, simplistic bows made of various materials such as metal and wood, to more intricately designed ones. Each weapon varies in colour, some curving in a singular arch, while others curve like stereotypical ‘m’ shaped birds in children’s drawings. Even the strings vary in colour, some being a pure white, while others are a dark red.
One bow in particular catches your eyes, and before you realize what you’re doing, you reach out to it. However, before you can so much as lay a single finger on the intricate carvings, you catch yourself.
Slowly, almost reluctantly, you retract your hand.
A low chuckle sounds right behind you.
“It’s okay, Dearest,” Yeosang steps up to you, pressing himself against your back so that he can lean into you. His breath ghosts over the shell of your ear as his hands settle against your waist. “What’s mine is yours.”
A shiver caresses your spine, and you can practically feel him smirk against the skin of your neck.
“I just don’t want to damage anything,” you mutter, still unsure of if you should reach out and touch the gorgeous bow resting before you.
“Believe us, Darling,” Jongho comments, and you can just hear the affectionate smile that he wears in his voice as he speaks. “You don’t have to worry about damaging anything. Our weapons are made with the strongest materials available to us. You couldn’t put a scratch on them, even if you tried.”
“Not to mention the magic we imbue them with for extra protection,” Yunho hums.
Understanding flashes across your features, nodding your head almost subconsciously. Still, your eyes briefly dart over to Yeosang one last time, who’s head rests just beside your own. As soon as you see him smile and nod, you take that intricately carved bow into your hands.
Vines appear to wrap themselves around the shaft of the bow, leaves branching out in intricate designs over the wood. The string is a solid white, while the colour of the bow itself is an almost faded grey, appearing a misty green in the light. It’s not very heavy by any means, but just from merely looking at the bow, you can tell that it’s strong.
Carefully, your fingers trace over the carvings, nothing but pure wonder shining in your eyes. “Did you carve this yourself?”
You feel Yeosang nod against your shoulder, and your lips part in awe as a low gasp escapes you.
“Wow.”
“We make all of our own weapons, My Divine.” Seonghwa makes sure to keep his tone soft as he informs you of this, not wanting to disturb the moment that’s settled around you all. “Have been since the beginning.”
“That’s incredible.” You breathe out, turning to face the other seven males with that bow still in your hands. “You’re all incredible!”
The way they all smile shyly in response says it all.
“Seriously, is there anything you all can’t do?” You turn your attention back to the bow in your hands, heart thundering as you stroke a hand down the shaft of the bow.
Mingi’s lips part in response, but at the quick jab of San’s elbow to his ribs, he’s closing it.
You quirk a brow in amusement, not needing to be able to read his mind to know he was about to remind you all that he can’t cook once again.
Sparing another glance around the room, your eyes catch on another intricately carved bow. Another gasp is escaping your lips as you waddle over to it excitedly, noticing how the two tips seem to be shaped like serpents which appear to intertwine intricately with one another to make the body of the bow.
“Literally, these are so beautiful.” You say, eyes scanning over every detail that you can.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, My Dear,” Yeosang chuckles, his one hand settling onto the small of your back as you walk around the room.
“This is one of the best days of my life,” you reply honestly, walking over to the wall of arrows across from you.
In no time at all, Yeosang launches into an explanation of all the different types of arrows he uses. The majority, he’s made himself, while others have been a collaboration between him and his brothers. Wooyoung more than happily chimes in when the different poison arrows are mentioned, the two of them detailing how each poison is administered depending on the arrow. Some are injected through the shaft, while other arrows are coated in the poison which gets administered through point of contact.
The whole time, you listen intently. Your eyes never lose that shine of wonder, lips pulling upwards in a radiant smile as they all observe you taking this all in. The fact that you appear so interested, and ecstatic to learn about all of this is making their hearts sing, and their souls come alight.
Finally, they can share this with you, too.
“So,” you turn back to Yeosang after he’s finished describing how his shattering arrows work. “Which one is your favourite?”
The way his eyes light up even further at your inquiry says it all.
“Design wise,” immediately, he’s pointing at the bow carved to resemble those two intertwined snakes. “Functionality, though, is a different story.”
Leading you back over to the main wall that you had grabbed the intricately carved bow with the vines from, he’s quick to grab another off of a hook. It’s quite simplistic in design, smooth black edges greeting your vision. The bow appears to be made out of some sort of thin metal, the edges sharp in the light of the room.
Ever so carefully, Yeosang trades the bow in your hand which you have yet to let go of with this new one. He’s quick to place the wooden one back on the wall as you marvel at how light this new bow is, holding it in the air slightly beside your head.
“The edges can cut through steel.” He comments casually.
“More like anything that you can imagine.” San chuckles, crossing his arms lightly.
Anticipation claws at his chest. Really, anticipation claws at all of their chests. If this is how you’re reacting to Yeosang’s weapons, then they each cannot wait for you to see their own collections. The wonder and awe alone is enough to satiate their original burning jealousy that had arisen at the fact that it was Yeosang who managed to both get you to use his weapon with him first, as well as show you his collection.
“What’s it made out of?” You ask, nothing but curiosity to your tone as you inspect the bow. You know better than to run your fingers along the sharp edges, but that does not stop you from turning it over slightly in your hands while gripping the handle.
“It’s a special kind of metal found only in our realm.” Mingi tells you. “Most of our weapons are made out of it, since it’s the lightest material we have, while also being the most durable.”
“So, it’s like vibranium from the marvel universe?” You quirk a brow at all of them, somewhat knowingly.
“You could say that.” Seonghwa chuckles, nodding his head lightly in response to your words.
“We call it Sage Metal,” Hongjoong says. “It’s the only thing strong enough to cut itself.”
“Wow,” you repeat your awe filled exhalation from earlier. “Can it be worked like any other metal, or is there a special process you have to use while forging it?”
“It can be worked like any other metal.” Seonghwa confirms, a sort of pride shining in his eyes as he watches you with a smile. “It’s got an insanely high boiling point though, so San and Mingi have the easiest time out of all of us working with it.”
At this, your brow quirks.
“We each have materials we work best with.” Mingi shrugs. “Just like we have preferred weapons we like to use.”
“That’s really cool!” You say, handing Yeosang back his bow.
“You should have seen the amount of times our workshops caught fire in the early days.” San jokes, the slightest of upturns to the corner of his lips. “Good thing we’re quick learners.”
“Yeah, that, and you didn’t want to singe all of your hair off again.” Wooyoung laughs, leading to him soon being chased around the small space by the elder male.
You laugh, “I take it that that happened more than once?”
“To all of us.” Seonghwa confirms, voice suddenly a bit strained as he seems to be recalling the memories right this very instant. Subconsciously, he runs his fingers through his hair. “Multiple times.”
A snort of laughter escapes you this time, and you quickly slap a hand over your mouth to stifle your giggles.
Amused quirks of their brows greet you in response, and you find yourself waving your free hand in front of yourself. “Sorry, sorry. It’s just really funny to imagine. I like knowing you guys weren’t always this composed.”
This time, it’s Wooyoung’s turn to snort out a laugh, “Angel, when have you ever known us to be composed around you?”
You take a moment to consider his words, even going so far as to lift a finger in protest as your lips part. Then, you’re nodding, eyebrows raising in agreement, “A good point.”
“Speak for yourself,” Jongho rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as a huff escapes him.
You simply quirk a brow in amusement at him, your one hand coming up to rub almost teasingly at the side of your neck where he bit you all those weeks ago.
Subtly, red begins to creep up his neck.
“Right, well,” he clears his throat, “Shall we move on to the next room?”
A few side-eyed looks are sent the youngest’s way in response, and you swear you see both Mingi’s and Hongjoong’s eyes flash black for the briefest of moments. However, before you can think too much on it, San is practically grabbing your hand and dragging you away from Yeosang. All too eagerly, the younger male leads you back over to the door you entered into the room from. A second later, he’s opening it and guiding you through.
Your eyes immediately light up at seeing all of the different spears, tridents, and javelins lining the walls, amongst other pole based weapons. Again, they’re all made form a range of materials in a variety of colours, and each design manages to take your breath away.
“Go wild,” San leans in to whisper in your ear, just as you hear the door fall shut behind you.
A large, giddy smile pulls onto your lips as you immediately race over to the one wall. There’s a specific spear that’s caught your eye, and the closer you get to the tip, the more detail work you can see carved into it. There seems to be a pattern of sorts etched into the metal, unfamiliar to you with all its swirls and shapes, but beautiful nonetheless.
The entire room is silent as you stand there, observing the intricate detailing of the spear’s tip. Each male watches you fondly, enjoying this moment for as long as they possibly can. Seeing your wonder and marvel at all of the designs makes their hearts race, and knowing that you’re enjoying yourself currently means the world to each and every single one of them.
Finally, you begin to move around the room, San right beside you the whole time.
“I feel like I’m in an art museum or something.” You admit lowly, voice airy and full of awe.
“Well, designing and forging weapons is simply another form of art.” Yunho nods his agreement.
“And you’ve all been making these your whole lives?” You turn to glance at the others from over your shoulder.
Small nods of confirmation greet you in response, subtle smiles pulling at all of their features.
“It’s why we take such great lengths to store them.” Yeosang adds. “Only we can access these rooms, for they are intricately linked, and can only be entered through this one door.”
Nothing but awe shines in your eyes as your lips part. A breathless ‘wow’ escapes you once more, turning lightly in a circle as you take in the whole room.
“Then, there are eight rooms?” You turn back to face them.
“Eight main ones, yes.” San says. “We have many storage rooms, and way too many weapons we no longer use.”
“That’s not to mention each of our own forges which are connected to our storehouses.” Seonghwa comments casually, leaning against the wall right beside the door.
“So, the rooms are almost like a labyrinth of sorts?” You tilt your head slightly in inquiry.
“You could say that.” Hongjoong chuckles. “It’s more of individual blocks of rooms floating in limbo within our domain until we summon the rooms to this door.”
“Ah,” you nod slowly in understanding. “I see.” The corner of your lips quirk upwards. “That’s still really cool.”
Little do you see the small, bashful smiles that tug at their features as you look away for the moment.
Turning back to face the tridents, you take in the various styles lining the wall. Some are placed vertically, while others sit horizontally, displaying the many pikes on each.
Two in particular - one silver with five prongs, and one gold with three prongs - catch your eye. Both are shiny, appearing as if they might be the newest to his collection as they are displayed side by side on a slight angle. It’s as if he purposely hung them like this; to emphasize the set they seem to make together. They’re quite familiar, and as you get closer, you realize why.
The silver one is a perfect replica of Queen Atlanna’s trident from the Aquaman film, while the gold is a perfect replica of Arthur’s own.
The way San is staring at you, his eyes shining with nothing but affection with just a hint of nervousness, says it all.
You smile, grabbing his hand in your own. Softly, you squeeze, warmth flooding your chest as you understand exactly what his intentions are. He made these for you, and him. He means for the two of you to use these together. The set never meant to be separated, or be without the other in battle.
For a brief moment, you allow him passed your void.
My Aquaman. You hum, squeezing his hand once more. Thank you.
My Queen, He mirrors your smile, his shoulders relaxing the slightest bit as he squeezes your hand back. I’m just glad you like them.
Like them? You reply, rather eagerly. Sannie, I love them.
The soft giggle he lets out fills the room, his eyes crinkling in the corners with the weight of his happiness. I’m glad.
Softly, you wiggle your intertwined hands in the space between your bodies. Not even a moment later, you’re turning back to the wall of tridents, lifting your gaze to take in the ones near the top of the wall. That’s when another, near the corner of the room, catches your attention.
A gasp escapes you. “No way.”
Rushing over to the trident, you end up half dragging, half pulling San along with you. You’ve closed your void to him now, so he cannot get a sense of what it truly is that’s caught your attention. That is, until you’re speaking once more.
“So, when were you going to tell me that you have an exact replica of Finnick’s trident from Catching Fire?” You quirk a brow, glancing at him briefly.
San grins, lifting said object off of the wall. “I figured it would be a nice surprise.”
“You seem to be full of nice surprises today, Pretty Boy.” You grin right back, watching as he handles that trident carefully before you.
“So, that’s what you ran off to make that one day,” Jongho mumbles, understanding painting his features. “I was wondering why you were asking me all those questions about her favourite book series.”
“I do love The Hunger Games.” You nod, eyes widening in excitement as San hands you the trident. “Finnick is my favourite character.” Then, a moment’s pause as you look over the weapon in your hands. “Him and Annie deserved better.”
Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Jongho nodding solemnly along with your words.
“I thought it was that set he made that day,” Hongjoong motions back to the Aquaman tridents proudly on display.
“I had to start with something easier,” San replies, sparing a look at all of his brothers.
“You count this design as easy?” You voice, incredulously, as the fingers of your one hand come up to trace the pole gently.
San only chuckles in response, offering you a small shrug of his shoulders.
“I don’t blame him.” Mingi hums, glancing from Jongho to Seonghwa. “There seems to be a recurring theme of making replicas of weapons belonging to your favourite characters and series, Starlight.”
“Speaking from experience, Min?” You place the trident back in its spot, moving over to where the others are standing after having your fill of looking around.
“You’ll see.” He chuckles, moving to wrap his arm around your shoulders.
Only, the youngest placing his hand onto the small of your back beats him to it. You nearly shiver from the contact, the tips of his fingers pressing lightly into your bare skin. 
That’s when you remember: you’re still only in your sport’s bra for the moment.
A glare is sent Jongho’s way, not just from Mingi, but from San as well. Your time in his weapon’s hold was far too short for his liking, but at least you enjoyed yourself. A bonus? You’re still beaming as Jongho leads you back through the door.
The moment you step through the threshold to be surrounded by axes of every size, shape, and colour, your lips part in a gasp, “Oh my.”
On one wall, throwing axes and hatchets are displayed. The opposite, everything ranging from a typical fireman’s axe, to the most intricately designed single bladed axes reside. On the final wall, double bladed axes reside, one sticking out more than the rest.
Your eyes widen, practically running out of Jongho’s hold as you see the axe resting in the centre display. It’s dual blades are familiar to you, the metal smooth before giving way to two sets of three triangles hollowed out on either side of the shaft. There, detailed rune work resides, and you find you can only place your hand over your heart in attempts to quell its beating.
“I see what you mean.” You swallow thickly, nearly jumping as you feel Jongho’s hand return to the small of your back.
“It’s quite effective in battle,” Jongho mentions casually, leading you over to the wall of hatches to show you the two other small axes that Gimli has in his arsenal that he’s also taken the liberty to make.
“You’ve already used Gimli’s axe in battle?” There’s nothing but wonder in your voice as you look at him, your whole body practically vibrating in excitement.
“Not yet, technically.” He chuckles at your enthusiasm. “But the simulations have all run smoothly.”
You turn back to the weapons before you, nothing but wonder in your eyes, “Wow.”
You’re starting to notice a slight pattern to the rooms now. All of them seem to be about the same size, with their weapons all lining the walls. Some of them even have a few extra racks to hold certain designs, but for the most part, the main wall houses what you assume to be the favourites, while the other side walls hold the smaller designs. They’re all organized quite well, and from the gleam you can see coming from each polished weapon, you can tell that they are all well taken care of, and maintained regularly.
Something they seem to have in common for all of the things that they care for - a great sense of both responsibility, and attention to detail when looking after them.
“Come, there’s another one I want to show you.” Jongho gently guides you to the opposite wall.
Sticking out his hand, an axe comes flying off of the wall from higher up. It spins in the air as it travels the short distance to his hand, the dark silver of the single edged blade glinting in the light. There seems to be a smaller blade protruding from the opposite side of the handle, acting as a continuation of the main blade on the other side.
The instant it touches Jongho’s hand, your eyes are widening as another gasp escapes you. The veins of gold carved into the blade stand out starkly against the darkness of the silver. The wooden handle is slightly curved, the blade itself covering almost half of the length of the wood.
“No way you made Kratos’ Leviathan Axe.” Your voice holds nothing but awed disbelief as you look over every inch of that axe Jongho holds out for you. “And you can summon it to your hands like he can in the game?”
“We can summon all of our weapons to our hands like that, My Love.��� Hongjoong chuckles, eyebrows raising in amusement as he sees the glare Jongho sends him for stealing his thunder.
“How does it work?” You spare a glance at all of them around the room.
“Usually just requires a drop of our blood and a binding spell.” Seonghwa explains.
“So, that’s how you can make your weapons appear out of thin air?” You ask, wonderstruck. “Not cause you’re doing something like reaching through realms, or into a pocket of space?”
Yunho chuckles, along with Wooyoung, Seonghwa, and Mingi.
“No, Petal,” he grins fondly at your curious expression. “Unfortunately we cannot do that, but it is how we are able to summon our weapons to us instantly.”
“Does it work on other things, too?” You inquire, nearly dropping the axe in your excitement as Jongho hands it to you.
“It works on anything we bind ourselves to in that way.” Mingi confirms.
“So, if you wanted to summon each other?” You tilt your head slightly as you finally get a good grip on the handle of the axe. “It’d be different than your transportation thingy?”
“Slightly.” Hongjoong confirms. “Think of it as a mere aspect of our teleportation.”
“But still different than a proper summoning spell.” Yeosang adds.
You nod, spinning that axe slowly in your hands as you look over the detail work.
“Would it work in battle?” You glance upwards. “If you ever needed to save each other from a killing blow? Or if one of you needed back up?”
“Normally, we’d just use our teleportation for that.” Mingi shrugs, leaning against an open part of the wall.
“That’s fair,” you hum, eyes shifting their focus back to the axe in your hands.
Where the gems would normally reside, you’ve noticed two other small jewels in their place. One is an opal, and the other is your own birthstone. A fact of which makes you smile, for you know both are meant to represent you and Jongho.
“With this summoning thing, is it automatic if you think of the item?” You hand Jongho the axe back, not wanting to risk damaging it right now as your curiosity is getting the better of you.
“It’s practically second nature to us now.” Wooyoung confirms with a nod. “The closer the object, the easier it is to summon it.”
“That makes sense.” You nod, eyes catching on another intricately carved axe for the moment. “Oh!”
The blade is hollowed in some areas, giving a sort of skeleton design to the metal. It’s intricately carved, the design looking more for style than functionality. However, you know that it’s more than likely made out of that Sage Metal that they told you about earlier. The axe is more than durable, and certainly functional.
“This is beautiful,” you breathe, tracing the spaces in the metal lightly with your index finger. Of course, you make sure not to touch the edges of the metal, not wanting to cut yourself on accident. Who knows how they would react to that.
“Not as beautiful as you.” Jongho whispers lowly into your ear as he steps up behind you, wrapping you in his arms.
A snort of laughter escapes you, lips parting in disbelief.
“Oh, Baby Bear,” you chuckle lowly, shaking your head. “Please don’t say such cringy things to me. You’re more suave than that.”
You don’t have to look at him to see the giant pout Jongho now wears on his features, only deepened by the laughter of his brothers.
“Oh, can it.” He turns to them, a frown on his features. “You were all thinking it, too.”
Again, you shake your head, lovingly this time. “What am I going to do with all of you?”
Wooyoung slides right up to your side, pulling you out of Jongho’s embrace and into his own. Carefully, he begins leading you back to the door.
“Love us unconditionally for all eternity?” There’s a hint of hope in his eyes, swirling within that all too familiar admiration and adoration you’ve become so used to from him. 
From all of them.
You hum, pretending to think about it for a moment. You stop just before the closed door, sparing a glance around at all of them briefly.
You smile lovingly, “That can be arranged.”
Low hums of content greet your ears as you reach forward to open the door. You do not need to look at them to know that they are gazing at you with nothing but a tender fondness in their eyes right now. You can feel it surrounding you as you step through the door, flooding your veins and comforting you right down to your very core.
Their unspoken response rings loud and clear through your mind, despite your void still being up. There is no doubt in your mind that they will do the same: love you unconditionally for all eternity. They’ve already proven, in more ways than one, that they do.
The moment you refocus in on the room surrounding you, your eyes catch on bottles upon bottles lining the shelves built into every free inch of the walls of this room. Various colourful liquids reside inside, some even appearing to glow with how vibrantly they shine beneath the lights. Small vials rest beside them, and you think you know what rests inside those.
Understanding flashes across your features and you turn to Wooyoung who practically shakes in excitement beside you.
“So, which one is the deadliest?” You quirk a brow, the corner of your lips twitching upwards.
A giddy smile stretches across his features, which then slowly morphs into a sly smirk, “No hesitation, huh, Angel?”
“I’m curious,” You shrug, nonchalantly.
He hums, “It’s just over here.”
Leading you over to a wall with the darkest liquids residing on the shelves, Wooyoung lifts his free hand. Instantly, a bottle of the blackest void comes rushing to his fingers, thick in texture and hardly sloshing around inside its container. Faintly, you swear you can hear hissing coming from his hand.
“There is no toxin more deadly than my own creations.” He tells you. “This one, though, is the worst.”
“Are you immune?” You glance up at him, a curious glint in your eyes.
“I’m immune to every poison you can imagine, and then some.” He hums, that grin still tugging at his features as he hands you the bottle of that thick black liquid. “But I always have antidotes close at hand.”
He motions around him to the small vials resting beside the bottles.
“We’re not as immune as he is to some of his creations.” Jongho grumbles, his arms crossed over his chest.
“But most of them, you are?” You spare a glance at the rest of them standing over by the door.
“That would be correct, My Love.” Hongjoong nods. “His most deadly, he’s made sure we’re immune to.”
“It’s considerate, considering the amount of times he’s used us as guinea pigs for new concoctions.” San grumbles, narrowing his eyes pointedly at Wooyoung.
You turn your head back to the aforementioned male who seemingly shrinks slightly in his spot.
“You guys volunteer.” He mumbles.
“Yeah,” Yunho rolls his eyes playfully. “That’s cause we never actually know what we’re signing up for.”
“It’s not my fault you all have different side effects than what I intend sometimes!” Wooyoung counters, a large pout pulling at his features. “It’s not like it’s intentional.”
“Sometimes, I feel like it is.” Yeosang states, rather pointedly.
“I don’t know,” you hum. “Isn’t the point of vaccines to inject some of the original virus or disease into your body so you know how to fight off the living cells, were they to enter your system?”
“See. At least My Angel understands my methods!” Wooyoung perks back up, tightening the hold of his one arm that rests around your waist. “There’s a whole process! You can’t just be immune. It’s not in your blood!”
“And it’s in yours?” San’s brow quirks knowingly.
“Actually, yes. It is.” Wooyoung states, rather proudly. “Most of my poisons contain some aspect of my blood in them, whether diluted or pure. That’s why they can be so toxic.”
“That’s really cool!” You chime in, having way too much fun watching the thick liquid slide around in the bottle every time you tip it upside down.
“So, there!” Wooyoung sticks his tongue out playfully at his brothers.
“Are there any kinds of toxins you’ve made that have a different effect than just poisoning the victim?” You turn your attention back to Wooyoung. “You know, like paralysis, or something?”
“Do I ever!” Wooyoung practically bounces on his feet as he leads you to the opposite wall. “This one-“ he points to a bright pink liquid, “is similar to a sleeping drought, but too much will cause the heart to stop for any living thing.”
You nod, staring intently at the bottle in front of you.
“This one-“ he points to an almost transparent green liquid, “causes your muscles to seize and inflicts unbearable pain throughout the body. Great for immobilizing people, but not quite paralysis in it’s literal sense.”
“Oh, wow.” You observe said liquid carefully.
“I also have certain tonics that effect emotions, a person’s state of mind or being, as well as ones that can essentially put people into either a comatose state, or loosen their tongue if we need a ‘physical’ way to gather information for assassinations.” He explains.
“So, you have truth telling serums?” Your brow quirks, the corner of your lips twitching upwards.
“I have any and every type of tonic you can think of.” Wooyoung nods, quite proudly at that.
You nod, eyes never leaving that shelf in front of you.
“So, then,” you begin. “Which is a stronger aphrodisiac? Your blood, or one of your tonics?”
The sound of shattering glass sounds behind you, and you turn to see Seonghwa and Mingi both cursing to themselves. Bottles, or what’s left of them, lay broken at their feet, the sound of hissing greeting your ears as liquid seeps over the ground.
“Careful with those,” Wooyoung waves his hand, cleaning the mess in an instant. “Some mixtures are deadly, even to us, if cross contaminated with each other.”
“We’ll just make sure to knock into the non-fragile glass bottles, next time.” Seonghwa grumbles, wiping off the front of his shirt rather harshly.
“Glass bottles are the most effective containers for acidic poisons, especially if reinforced by magic.” Wooyoung states, matter of factly.
“But they can still shatter on impact with the floor.” Jongho quirks a brow, matter of factly.
“You win some, you lose some.” Wooyoung shrugs, before turning his attention back to you for the moment. “To answer your question, Angel, it would be this one right here.” A bottle with a liquid as clear as day is instantly in his one hand. “This is the strongest aphrodisiac we own, besides our blood.”
“Oh?” Your lips twitch upwards in the corner, brow quirking. “So, they’re on par with one another, then?”
“Not quite,” Wooyoung’s eyes begin to swirl with that all too familiar darkness. “This is just a little stronger, since it’s undiluted in that sense.”
You hum, “Interesting.”
“Why?” San’s voice, low and gravelly reaches your ears as his hooded gaze meets your own. “Want to give it a try?”
All eight sets of eyes are on you in an instant, darkness swirling within.
You smirk, “Perhaps some other time.”
Eight low growls reach your ears as you walk back over to the door. You can feel the weight of their heated stares on you, even as you glance towards them from over your shoulder.
“Shall we?” You drawl out, a teasing flick to your brows.
Yunho seems to be the first to recompose himself, quickly moving over to you and placing his hand onto the skin of your upper back. Gently, he guides you through the door, clearing his throat all the while.
“I don’t tend to use many weapons, so my storehouse is a bit of the miscellaneous designs we keep for the occasional use.” He explains. “I do tend to like shredding things, whether physical, or mental, though.”
Again, your eyes light up as you take in the various unconventional designs around you. You can tell they’ve experimented with multiple angles and materials, each weapon given certain liberties over the rest. Everything from large hammers to thin whips with metal spikes attached to them line the walls, allowing you to see the various techniques they all know how to use in battle depending on the weapon.
Serrated blades, tools, saws, and even some scythes and rifles also line the walls.
Your brow quirks at the cage of guns off to the side.
“For our assassinations, mainly.” Yunho is quick to tell you, to which you’re immediately nodding your head in understanding.
“Who’s the best sniper?” You turn to them, looking over each male individually.
“Seonghwa and Hongjoong are amazing.” Wooyoung immediately boasts, a proud smile tugging at his lips.
“Really, we’ve got nothing on Mingi, though.” Hongjoong says, averting his gaze somewhat bashfully as red creeps up his neck.
At Seonghwa’s nod in agreement, you turn to the aforementioned male. Lightly, a grin pulls at the corner of your lips.
You let Mingi in.
I always knew you were way cooler than James Bond. You meet his gaze with an affectionate look of your own. Definitely proves it.
Mingi giggles, brushing tenderly against your mind with his own as his eyes crinkle at the sides.
You turn back to the main wall of weapons. “You all contribute to this stockade, or is it more trial and error?”
“A little bit of both.” San says, the others nodding in agreement. “Sometimes we even get certain materials from our friends that we play around with when creating weapons.”
At this, your brow quirks.
“Well, sometimes we aren’t simply given things.” Wooyoung chuckles. “Like when Jongho used the teeth from the snakes of the last gorgon leader to make a tiny mace.”
Jongho simply glares at Wooyoung in response.
“Not going to lie, that’s pretty cool.” You reply, nonchalantly. “Do you guys have any transforming weapons?”
“Mingi made the Beastcutter from Bloodborne.” Seonghwa comments casually.
Your jaw drops. “You did not.”
The second Mingi sticks his hand out, a weapon flies off of the wall. Sure enough, holding it out to you reveals it to be a life-size replica of the Beastcutter from Bloodborne.
“Holy shit.” There is no hiding the awe in your eyes as he passes it to you, you giggling like a maniac soon after.
“If I recall, Mingi’s made a lot of replicas of From Soft weapons.” Yeosang adds, humming lightly to himself.
“You have?” That awe filled gaze of yours is back on Mingi, who’s neck begins to turn bright red as he nods. “That’s incredible!”
He lifts a hand up to scratch at the back of his neck. “It’s nothing.”
“Moonlight, I wish you wouldn’t downplay your skills sometimes.” You comment, patting his arm affectionately. Then, you’re practically bouncing on your feet as the Beastcutter is returned to its original spot. “Now, show me, show me, show me!”
Mingi chuckles lowly, “Of course, Starlight.” He leads you back to the door, his arm gently finding purchase around your waist. “Right this way.”
Carefully, Mingi guides you through the door and into his own storehouse of weapons, his brothers following closely behind. The sound of the door shutting is synonymous with your gasp, your eyes practically shining as you take in the sets of weapons lining the walls, mainly consisting of dual blades.
At one particular set that is bright red, the edges of the blades artfully chipped, a dramatic gasp escapes you.
“No way!” You point at the blades, scurrying over to them while hopping around on your feet. “You made the Rivers of Blood from Elden Ring into a two sword set?”
“I had to compromise a bit on length, but the design is the same.” He shrugs, plucking them off of the wall and giving them each a spin in his hands.
You practically swoon as a result. “Somebody pinch me, I’m in heaven.”
Low chuckles resound around the room, each male loving how your excitement never seems to cease for even one moment. The fact that Mingi continues to captivate you currently by performing small tricks with the blades has them beaming. Though, a few, such as Hongjoong, Jongho, and Seonghwa, all wish it were them that were impressing you in such a way instead.
Again, Mingi chuckles, placing the Rivers of Blood back in their spot before pulling two other katanas off of the wall. They also seem familiar to you, though you can’t seem to figure out why.
“I dubbed these ones my Deadpool set.” Mingi explains with a grin, giving them each a spin in his hands.
“I was wondering why they looked so familiar,” You hum, nodding slightly. “If you pull out the Blades of Chaos next, I might need to sit down.”
The grin Mingi wears is nothing short of gleeful as he replaces the katanas on the wall. In a blink, he holds out his hands, chains wrapping around his forearms before a dual set of particularly carved blades appear held in his grip.
You physically feel your legs give out beneath you, a hand coming up to press against your forehead as you fall backwards.
Luckily, Yunho appears just in time to catch you.
“I’m dreaming.” You mutter lowly, nothing but awe in your voice. “This is a dream, and I’m in heaven.”
More fond chuckles greet your ears.
“It’s a shame the blades are more for show than anything,” Mingi somewhat pouts. “Still worth seeing every one of your reactions, though, Starlight.”
“Oh, yeah, I heard something about them being impractical in real life cause of the chains or something.” You manage to right yourself on your feet, affectionately patting Yunho’s hands which he keeps wrapped around your waist. “The blades could still be effective on their own, though. Can they not?”
The grin that stretches across Mingi’s face says it all.
“Now, if you go around bathing them in fire as you use them, I might faint for real.” You comment casually.
His eyebrow quirks, “Promise?”
“You want me to faint?” You snort out a laugh.
“If it’s from something cool that I’ve done,” Mingi shrugs, storing the blades back in their place. “Why not?”
“Touché.” You hum, sparing another glance around the room. Your eyes catch briefly on a set of blades, curved to resemble human spines. You smile. “Seriously guys, this is incredible.”
“We’re just glad you’re enjoying yourself, Dearest.” Yeosang smiles, nothing but tender fondness reflected in his eyes.
“Like I said, this is one of the best days of my life.” You breathe out. “I’ve always had a fascination with different types of weapons since I was small. It’s nice not having to hide my excitement about them anymore. Especially about ones that I long since thought could only be used in fictional settings, or for cosplay.”
“Hearing you rant and rave about certain styles of weapons when we watch those…” Jongho grimaces slightly, irritation shining briefly on his features, “Let’s Players, sticks with us, you know.”
“Don’t tell me you’re jealous of Jacksepticeye, Baby Bear.” You quirk a brow.
At the few grumbles you hear, you begin to laugh.
“You seem to be overtly fond of him.” Hongjoong mutters lowly.
You shrug. “He’s funny.”
Low growls sound from Yeosang, Mingi, San, and Seonghwa.
“Again, just because you don’t like him, doesn’t mean I don’t.” You remind them.
“That’s the problem, Angel.” Wooyoung mumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.
“The fact I find him entertaining?” You quirk a brow, noticing how they remain quiet for the most part. “Wait, is this why you all started playing God of War and Bloodborne? So, I wouldn’t watch his play-throughs anymore?”
“No.” Jongho answers, much too quickly.
“We also needed to get better insight of the weapons when making them.” Mingi says, matter of factly.
A smack is given to the elder male from the youngest as you stare at them knowingly. Then, your eyes seemingly glaze over, deep in thought.
“You said you make weapons out of materials sometimes gifted to you from others, right?” Your brow is furrowed as you step out of Yunho’s embrace, much to the male’s discontent.
“That’s correct.” Yeosang confirms.
You hum to yourself, beginning to pace back and forth as your mind reels.
“How strong are dragon teeth?” You pause, lifting your head to spare a glance at all of them.
Understanding flashes behind their eyes.
“They are extremely durable and versatile, My Divine.” Seonghwa replies, a knowing glint in his eyes. “Some of the strongest bones in all the realms. Other than their horns, of course.”
“And baby dragon’s teeth?” You quirk a brow.
“Not as durable, but strong all the same.” Yunho confirms.
Again, you hum, shifting to face Hongjoong. “Can I see Mon’s teeth for a moment?”
By the time you’ve extended your hands, Hongjoong has that green cloth placed upon your palms. You turn just in time to see a wooden table appear beside you, the guys all moving in to stand around it as you work.
Carefully, you unwrap the package that is Mon’s baby teeth. Once you have that cloth covering the main portion of the table, you begin arranging them in a particular pattern. Slowly, a triangle begins to form, Mon’s teeth outlining the shape.
“Our conversation just now gave me an idea,” you begin, righting yourself so you’re no longer hunched over the table. “A bit literal for serrated teeth, but I think it works well.”
A gentle hand is placed onto your lower spine curtesy of Mingi. Sparing a glance at him reveals his lips to be tugging upwards into a proud smile.
“I don’t know how the logistics will work, but if you can make the Beastcutter, then I’m sure you can make a Saw Spear,” You meet Mingi’s gaze. “No?”
A pride swirls behind his gaze, his chest puffing out the slightest bit. “I think that can be arranged.”
The smile that takes over your features lights up the entire room, excitement pouring off of you in waves. “Really?”
“Most definitely.” San confirms with a nod. “We can all help with this one.”
“You’d all really do this for me?” You spare a glance at all of them, noticing how tenderly they look at you.
“Of course!” Wooyoung confirms eagerly. “It’s not every day Our Queen asks us to make her her own weapon.”
You share an excited giggle.
“Listen, I want to be able to have something to call my own,” you grin. “Preferably not just a bat. I’m not sure how intimidating our enemies will find me only wielding a weapon like that.”
“Believe me, Baby,” San chuckles. “You’re plenty intimidating with a bat.”
“So I’ve heard.” You smile slyly.
“We could make you a personalized bat, too, Dearest.” Yeosang offers. “Anything and everything your heart desires, know that it’s yours.”
Lifting your head to meet his gaze, your eyes crinkle as your smile morphs into a loving one. 
“How about we start with this for now?” You say softly. “I’m sure I’ll think of more when the time comes. Believe me when I say there’s no shortages of weapon’s designs in my mind. But for now, there’s still two more main storehouses to see, and I’d also love to see a forge if there’s time. I am getting hungry.”
“Well then,” Yunho nods, noticing how his brothers all wear the same look of affection spreading across his face in this moment. “What are we waiting for?”
Leaving Mon’s teeth laid out on the table at their request, you walk back over to the door. This time, it’s Hongjoong that opens it, stepping through to hold it as you follow shortly behind.
If you’re being honest with yourself, his and Seonghwa’s rooms are the ones you’re most anticipating. Long since have you fantasized about what their own blades will look like, and now, you find your whole body shaking with excitement as you step through the threshold.
The instant you see the wall of daggers before you, a loud gasp escapes you. Your hands come up to cover your mouth, eyes flitting all over the weapons on display before you. Everything from ceremonial daggers, to jewelled blades rest before you in an array of designs. There even seems to be a small display case in front of the main wall with a dagger inside, resting upon a cushion. It looks familiar to you, and as you get closer, you realize why.
There seems to be a blade missing from the set, but you say nothing. Still, you cannot help but to zero in on that cushion, noting the slight indent where the second dagger should reside.
Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Hongjoong stiffen, but you opt to say nothing for now.
Sets of throwing knives line the one wall, some collections housing upwards of twenty blades. You take the time to observe everything, walking slowly around the room and taking it all in. Each blade manages to take your breath away, your heart racing erratically in your chest as excitement courses through your veins.
Hongjoong, you notice, still remains unusually quiet. In fact, if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looks nervous, especially when you glance towards that display case in front of the main wall every now and again.
Turning to the others, you smile lightly, “Do you mind giving us a minute?”
A few quirked brows are sent your way in response, but they comply, nonetheless.
“We’ll meet you in your storeroom, okay, Mars?” You catch his gaze, noticing how he nods in understanding as soon as the words escape you.
Slowly, you watch as they all step through the door, and only once you see it fall shut, the small click resounding throughout the room, do you turn back to face Hongjoong.
There’s an almost reserved look in his eyes as he avoids your gaze. Slowly, he shifts from foot to foot, his hands clasped in front of himself.
Your expression falls.
Silently, you approach him, gently lifting his hands into your own.
“What’s wrong, My Love?” Your inquiry is soft, giving his hands a small squeeze in order to coax him to meet your eyes.
He’s unusually silent as he shakes his head, staring intently at your intertwined hands.
Normally, this room is a huge sense of pride for him. However, as soon as he saw you glance the display case with only the one dagger inside, his heart plummeted. Selfishly, he kept it there in its spot because he could not bring himself to get rid of it. Now though, he fears he made the wrong call, for that pillar acts as a stark reminder of every misdeed he’s ever performed. That case stands almost mockingly; a tombstone that could have been yours.
“Hongjoong,” Worry pulls at your brow as you lift a hand up to guide his gaze to yours. Tenderly, your thumb brushes against his cheek. “You’re unusually quiet right now, and I’m extremely concerned. I thought you’d be ecstatic to show me your collection today.”
He purses his lips, and you can see a hint of fear flash behind his eyes.
“Is this about the set of daggers in that case?” Your tone is nothing but gentle.
The way he stiffens beneath your touch says it all.
The way that you can tell that this is affecting him negatively has your heart squeezing painfully in your chest. It’s clear to you that Miyeon still has her claws buried deep within his guilt, and all you want to do is reassure him as best you can in this moment. Only, you’re not quite sure how.
“They were-“ he clears his throat of the roughness that resides in his voice, “They were meant to be ours.”
Your gaze shifts to the small display case where that lone blade sits.
“The daggers,” You breathe.
He nods. “I made them for us.”
You squeeze his one hand once more, gently guiding him over to the display case so you can get a closer look.
Still, he refuses to so much as glance at that singular dagger.
“I wanted that one to be yours, and the other to be mine, but she-“ his voice hitches, and he squeezes his eyes shut. “I don’t think I could ever look at my dagger the same way again. Not after what she did to you with it. Yet, I can’t bring myself to destroy the set. It held so much meaning to me when I made them, that I just-”
He doesn’t finish his thought. Instead, his shoulders droop and he turns the slightest bit away from you.
Shame weighs heavy on his shoulders, regret adding its toll.
You take a moment to observe the dagger in the case. It’s certainly familiar, but you notice slight discrepancies to the one you’ve already seen. This dagger’s blade is slightly thinner, the handle carved in the opposite direction to its matching pair. You can tell that they’re meant to be put together. A set, never to be separated.
“I’m glad you didn’t.” You turn to him, and your words finally draw a reaction from him. “Destroy them, I mean.”
“My Love?” There’s clear surprise on his features, not having expected you to say anything along those lines.
If Hongjoong is being honest with himself, he expected you to start cursing him out for not getting rid of the very weapon that caused you such harm. He was certain that you’d be screaming at him, asking him why he would keep such vile weapons around after what they did to you.
To say your tender look of affection shocks him would be a great understatement.
“You still have the other dagger, then?” You ask him softly, rubbing your thumb tenderly over the back of his hand.
Slowly, albeit hesitantly, he nods.
“May I see it?” The question is gentle in all meaning of the sense, making sure to keep your voice low as you look at him with kind eyes.
A moment’s hesitation before he nods. Then, he has the other dagger in his free hand, holding the handle out for you to take.
Meeting his gaze, you smile assuringly at him. Maintaining eye contact, you gently slip that dagger out of his hold, gripping it firmly in your one hand. Only then do you spare a glance down at one of the weapons that had caused you such pain all those long weeks ago.
Just as you thought, this one is slightly bigger, the blade both a little thicker and longer in length.
“This one was meant to be yours?” You lift your gaze to his, noticing how intently he watches you in this very moment.
He nods.
You let your intertwined hands fall to rest in the space between your bodies, letting them sway gently back and forth.
“Will you hold onto mine?” There’s nothing but a hopeful gleam to your eyes as you watch him nod.
Slowly, he unlocks the case. Once the glass is opened, he lifts your dagger out with the utmost of care, holding it delicately in his hand. The way that he’s standing perfectly mirrors you in every way, and you cannot help the small upturn of your lips at that fact.
“Hongjoong, I wish to keep these daggers together,” you begin. At the way you see his lips part in protest, you’re quick to continue, “She was the one who used it to hurt me, not you. I know for a fact that you would rather carve out your own heart than bring me any harm. Your dagger didn’t hurt me. She did.”
The hitch in his breath is audible, even to you.
“I know you may not have intended it this way, but I wish to keep this one as my own.” You lift the dagger in your hand slightly. “And I wish for you to use that one. Let me reclaim the weapon that was used to hurt me, and know that it is meant to symbolize your undying loyalty and protection. Let me wield you in battle, just as you will wield me when the time comes.”
The way your eyes flash over to that dagger held in his hand as you speak those words says it all.
“These daggers are for us, meant to protect each other.” You state, rather firmly. “I think it’s time we allow them the proper use. Don’t you?”
He swallows thickly, his lips parting as tears line his eyes. He squeezes your hand.
“Yes,” he breathes, nodding his head once quite firmly. He blinks, and the first of his tears begin to fall down his cheeks. “Yes, My Queen. Always.”
Softly, you smile at him, guiding him into your embrace as he buries his face into the side of your neck. You can feel his sobs wracking his body as he holds onto you tightly, clinging to you both for dear life, but also in gratitude for what this moment means to the both of you. No longer will you allow Miyeon to control either of you. It’s time to reclaim that which has been stolen. All of it.
Pulling away from him slightly, you stare deeply into his eyes. The corners of your lips tug upwards in a loving smile, and you manage to brush some stray hairs out of his eyes.
“I am so deeply in love with you, My King.” There is no waver in your voice as you say this, pouring every ounce of sincerity that you can into your words. “Know that nothing will ever change that.”
“My Queen,” The words are but a whisper on his lips as he pulls you tighter against him. “Thank you, for believing in me.”
The smile you offer him says it all, nothing but tender love and affection shining within your gaze as you lean forward to kiss him gently. A kiss which he is all too eager to reciprocate, letting the movement of his lips over your own tell you of all the ways in which he loves you. The ways in which he will always love you, and appreciate all that you mean to him.
All too soon, you’re pulling away in order to rest your forehead on his.
“The daggers are beautiful, My Love,” Your words are but a soft caress against his lips. “Thank you for keeping them as one.”
Hongjoong manages a small smile in response. “I am simply happy you like them, My Queen.”
“I love them, Joongie.” Your reply is immediate, pulling the slightest bit back from him to admire the detailing on the handles once more. “It means a lot to me that you made them for us.”
“Of course, My Love,” Gently, he returns them both to their spots on top of the cushion inside the display. He’s quiet for a moment before he speaks again. In a soft voice, he admits, “I made them the day I knew I wanted you to become Our Queen.” He turns to you, eyes holding nothing but love for you swirling within that familiar darkness. “My Queen.”
Your expression softens, “All the more reason to keep them, and use them as you’ve always intended.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” He chuckles lowly, offering you his hand as he steps in beside you.
Without any hesitation, you place your hand in his.
“I am curious, though,” you hum. “Did you keep the other one? The jewelled one from David’s shop?”
A blink, and that familiar dagger is in his free hand.
Your eyes go wide, a thrum of excitement going through you.
“I think it’s time it was given back to the woman who always deserved it,” He grins, a knowing glint in his eyes as he holds out the handle for you to take. “Don’t you?”
Eagerly, you nod your head, reaching out to take that dagger into your free hand.
You take a moment to look it over, twirling that blade in your grip lightly. A small smile rests on your features, eyes sparkling as you finally grasp the handle firmly in your hand.
Little do you see how fondly Hongjoong watches over you in this very moment. Though, from the way you lift your head to meet his gaze, you manage to catch the very look resting on his features.
“Thank you, Joongie,” You lean in to place an affectionate kiss upon his cheek. “This truly means a lot to me.”
“Your happiness means the world to me, My Love.” Hongjoong smiles, giving your one hand still held in his a small squeeze. “I’m simply glad you can finally have everything you’ve always desired.”
“It’s because of you, you know.” You turn to face him just as you reach the door. “I’ve only been able to achieve this because of you. Because of all of you.”
Hongjoong’s heart warms, and he leans in to place a lingering kiss upon your forehead. “Then, how wonderful it will be to spend the rest of eternity with one another.”
Your own heart swells with nothing but happiness, “How wonderful indeed.”
With a final squeeze of your intwined hands, you exit the room.
The moment you step into Seonghwa’s own weapon’s hold, you’re greeted by chaos. Both him and Mingi appear to be sparring with some of his swords, while Yeosang chases both San and Wooyoung around with a sword of his own. Yunho stands off to the side with Jongho, both males shaking their heads with their arms crossed over their chests.
“Did I miss something?” You quirk a brow playfully, successfully drawing their attention to both you and Hongjoong standing just inside the threshold of the door.
“Wooyoung and San were being smartasses, as usual.” Jongho shakes his head once more.
“Hey!” Said males whine at the same time.
“Then, why was Yeosang chasing you with- oh my god, is that Major General Armstrong’s sword?” You practically shove Wooyoung out of the way to take the sword from Yeosang’s grip. 
Unfortunately, you fail to miss the large pout that now pulls onto Hongjoong’s features as you essentially leave him in the dust in order to observe this new sword. Nor do you see the pout that Wooyoung wears as he looks to you with large, pleading eyes.
With your dagger held in your one hand, and the sword in the other, you take in the detailing of the metal. The floral design engraved on the length of the blade takes your breath away, and you begin shaking in excitement once more.
Then, you’re nodding to yourself almost subconsciously, “Very beautiful. Very powerful.”
“I’m glad you like it, My Divine.” Seonghwa chuckles affectionately, coming to stand beside you as the others return to their respective spots near the door. “Come, there’s plenty more where that came from.”
Lifting your gaze, Seonghwa cannot deny the hitch in his breath as he sees your wondrous expression light up your features. The awe alone he can see says it all.
He swallows thickly.
Handing him the sword back, you finally take in the other blades residing on the surrounding walls.
“No way you have a wall full of just katanas- are those Zoro’s?” Another squeal leaves you as you rush over, gazing intently at the multiple swords lined up in a row.
Sure enough, upon closer inspection, the katanas in front of you correspond to the multiple ones Zoro has used throughout the course of One Piece.
“Seriously, I’m in heaven.” You sigh, dreamily.
Low chuckles sound from behind you, and you can feel all of their fond gaze on you as you dart around the room.
“No way!” A dramatic gasp escapes you as a particular blade catches your eye from across the room. “You made Sting?”
Just as you did with Yeosang’s bow in the first room, you go to reach out for it. Only, you hesitate, not sure if you should actually touch these weapons or not.
“Go ahead, My Divine,” Seonghwa chuckles, stepping in right beside you and placing a loving hand onto the skin of your lower back. “Please, don’t hold back.”
Practically shoving the dagger in your hands in his direction, you silently tell him to hold onto the jewelled blade while you lift Sting carefully off its display. Nothing but wonder resides in your gaze as you take in the detail work of the craftsmanship. The blade is unusually light, too, just as described in the book.
“If you tell me that this blade can also glow blue, I can and will faint right now.” You lift your gaze to his own, excitement pouring off of you in waves.
A soft chuckle falls from Seonghwa’s lips, “We’ll have to go visit some orcs, then.”
Your lips part, eyes widening as you visibly begin to shake. Not even a moment later, you’re zooming around the room, muttering to yourself about this being the best day of your life once more.
Hopping around the storehouse, you take in the rest of the swords lining the walls. You cannot keep the smile off of your face, almost subconsciously muttering a tune to yourself as you browse the selection of weapons before you.
“Oh, the wonders of weapons,” you hum, no longer paying any mind to the eight other males in the room, of whom watch you fondly. “The wonders of weapons of Kings.” You giggle. “My Lovely Kings.” 
They smile.
“My lovers are eight powerful, demonic Kings.” Your voice is low, but they still hear you loud and clear. A fact of which sets their hearts racing inside of their chests. “And I’m their One and Only Queen.”
Eight low growls of approval sound from behind you. Sparingly, you glance over your shoulder, offering them each a blissful smile.
“Today is a most wonderful day.” You continue to hum to yourself, bouncing around on the soles of your feet from one spot to another. “Spending it with the people I love.”
Rumbles of content fill the room, and you bound over to the eight of them with a vibrant smile lighting up your face. You take the time to give each one of them a kiss on the cheek, muttering how much you love them each time you do. A sentiment which is immediately echoed by each male as soon as you address them individually.
Still, you cannot prevent yourself from rocking excitedly on your feet as you see the large, dopey grins they offer you in return.
“Thank you.” You take the time to meet all of their gazes. “For today. For everything.” Your heart swells in your chest. “You all seriously don’t know how happy you make me.”
“The feeling is very much mutual, Petal.” Yunho hums, the same warmth that is currently flooding his chest heard clearly in his voice as he addresses you.
“We’re just glad you’re enjoying yourself, Dearest.” Yeosang adds, clasping his hands almost lovingly in front of himself as he gazes at you fondly.
You nod, vigorously at that. “Can I see one of your forges, now?”
“Of course, My Divine.” Seonghwa extends his free hand out to you, your dagger still held tightly in his opposite hand.
“Oh, thanks for holding onto that for me, Mars.” You reach over, taking your dagger back from him as he walks you both over to the door. “I-“
Your words die in your throat as the door opens to reveal a grandiose space. There’s a large wooden table that lines the one wall, the forge worked into the opposite corner. A floor to ceiling window resides near the forge itself, displaying a beautiful field with mountains in the distance. Hardly any clouds line the sky, the sun shining and illuminating the space all around.
Various weapons line the room, stacked on top of each other or resting against the wall where various tools and materials hang. There even seems to be a closet off to the side, which you would bet anything houses even more weapons that are currently being worked on, or have even been finished.
“Wow,” You breathe out, nothing but wonder on your features as you take it all in.
Carefully, you place your dagger onto the top of the wooden table off to the side, spinning around a few times to take in the full room around you. Seonghwa, of course, gives you enough space to do so, watching you with such a tender look in his eyes.
“Do all of your workshops look the same?” You turn to face them.
“More, or less.” Jongho tilts his head slightly from side to side. “Some of our tools vary due to the types of weapons we forge, but the setup is pretty much identical.”
“That’s so cool!” You say, awe clear in your voice.
“If you peek through the window, you can actually see the outlines of all of our forges in the hills.” Yunho motions with his head for you to take a look.
Instantly, you’re at the window, eyes scanning the area to see multiple windows buried seemingly inside the hills just outside.
“Woah,” You turn back around to face them. “That must come in handy when you need to borrow things from each other while welding.”
“It is quite convenient.” Mingi nods in confirmation. “Especially if one of the others has a material you need while crafting.”
“I can imagine.” You hum, eyes flitting over the table and taking in all of the little trinkets scattered about.
There seems to be a whetting stone placed near the corner, some scraps of black leather cut into pieces along the top. Some tools rest here and there, but for the most part, the space is clean.
Out of the corner of your eyes, you see Hongjoong nudge Seonghwa with his elbow.
You quirk a brow.
Seonghwa clears his throat.,“Actually, I have two things I wish to give you, My Divine.”
“You do?” There’s nothing but wonder in your tone as you watch him move around his workspace.
For a brief moment, Seonghwa enters that little closet at the side of the room. When he comes back, both of his hands are held behind his back.
You blink, curiosity getting the better of you as you attempt to see what he could be hiding.
“This one, we all agreed on a long time ago.” He says, sharing a brief look around the room at his brothers who all smile softly at you in response. “I reinforced it, so it no longer has to be simply decorative. Unless you desire it to be.”
In one swift movement, Seonghwa pulls his right hand out from behind his back. A familiar silver sword rests there, jewels glinting in the light.
The gasp that escapes you is immediate as you see the matching sword to that dagger you had placed on his work table resting in his hand.
Ever so carefully, you reach forward, taking that sword from his grip as your eyes shine with nothing but love.
“My Kings?” You glance around at all of them, noticing how they all stare at you the exact same way you’re looking at them.
“Anything and everything your heart could ever desire, Angel,” Wooyoung whispers. “It’s yours.”
“I-“ you swallow thickly, admiring that sword now held in your hands. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything, My Love,” Hongjoong smiles assuringly at you. “Know that we will always provide for you, in whatever ways that we can.”
“We love spoiling you, Baby,” San adds softly. “Knowing these are things that you’ve always wanted… well… it means a lot to us to see you happy; to make you happy.”
Your lips part, but no words escape you.
“Just let us take care of you.” Yeosang voices lowly, all seven of them nodding along to his words.
Again, you swallow the emotions building in your throat. Your grip tightens on that pommel in your hands, and you manage to blink away your building tears of joy.
“Thank you.” You take your time to meet each of their gazes. “I mean it. You all never fail to go above and beyond for me, and I will always cherish these moments, these gifts, more than you’ll ever know.”
Their smiles widen, hearts beating erratically in their chests.
“We’re just love seeing you happy, Starlight.” Mingi repeats San’s words from only moments ago, nothing but sincerity shining within all of their eyes.
“I still have one more sword to gift you, today, My Divine.” Suddenly, Seonghwa looks the slightest bit more nervous as he stands before you. “That is, if you’ll have it.”
“My Mars,” you hum, affection dripping from your gaze, “You could gift me a wooden sword, and I would cherish it until the end of time.”
Teasingly, Seonghwa’s eyes narrow as he spares a glance around the room. “Alright, who told?”
Almost instantly, Jongho starts whistling inconspicuously while San, Wooyoung, and Mingi all avoid Seonghwa’s gaze.
You giggle, and like every time before, it is music to every single one of their ears.
“It took me quite a few tries,” he begins, keeping his voice low and tone steady, “But I had to make sure it was perfect.”
In the blink of an eye, Seonghwa presents you with the other sword he had been holding behind his back this whole time. He rests it carefully over his palms, holding it out to you with loving eyes as he watches your every reaction carefully.
The sheath is easily recognizable to you, the leather strap wrapped meticulously around it just as it is when the sword gets presented in the movie. The handle is every bit as gorgeous as you remember, the black leather wrapping around the pommel perfectly placed as the worked silver glints in the light.
Without taking your eyes off of that sword, you pass the one currently in your hands to the closest person beside you. Easily, Mingi takes it from you as you step in closer to Seonghwa.
You swallow your building emotions.
With shaking hands, you reach out to grasp that sword. You take one small step back before you’re unsheathing it in one fluid movement, the etchings in the metal bringing tears to your eyes.
Before you, held in your very grip, is an exact replica of Andúril.
“You made this for me?” Your voice comes out small, your overwhelming emotions threatening to choke you out at any second.
Briefly, your gaze flits from the markings on the blade to Seonghwa’s face, noting how he nods softly.
The whole time, his gaze never leaves you for a moment. Never does he want to miss even a single second of the wondrous expression you wear on your face. The fact that he can hear your heart racing says it all.
“Seonghwa, I-“ Your grip tightens around the handle of the sword, meeting his gaze once more. “When?”
He shuffles slightly from foot to foot, the others remaining silent out of respect for the moment being shared between the both of you right now.
“I started that day we got back from the mall.” His honest reply nearly sends you to your knees.
Again, your eyes trail over every inch of that sword before you. Your heart swells with nothing but love, feeling as if it’s close to bursting as you take in every minuscule detail of the blade. You can tell that he put in a tremendous amount of effort into forging this weapon for you, and given its meaning to you in its entirety, you know that he spoke true when he said that he wanted to make it perfect.
For you. 
He made this for you.
Something within your eyes flash, and you’re quick to sheathe that sword. The whole time, you never break eye contact with the male across from you, and despite the pounding of your heart that you can hear in your ears, a sense of complete calm washes over you.
“You seven,” you don’t even spare them so much as a glance of acknowledgement. “Out. Now.”
Words of protest die on Wooyoung’s lips as he gets pushed out of the room by both Jongho and Yeosang. Of course, just before the door closes, Seonghwa does not fail to miss the wink Yunho sends his way.
The sound of the door clicking shut is synonymous with the movement of Seonghwa’s Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.
“You made this for me,” you begin lowly. “After hearing me say once that I have long since desired a replica of my own.”
He nods. Slowly.
“You didn’t hesitate for one moment to make this for me, did you?” Your inquiry is soft, despite the heated stare you wear.
He shakes his head.
You motion for him to come forward with your finger, backing yourself towards that wooden table as he begins stalking towards you. Not once does he break eye contact, obeying your every command without hesitation.
“Of all of the grandiose gesture you could make for me, this is the one that means the most.” You tell him honestly, your voice near breathless as you finally hit that table. Resting the sword against its side, you motion him closer. “There are no words to describe what this means to me; no gift more significant than that which you have just given.”
The moment he steps into you, your arms are around his shoulders, pulling him in closer. Softly, your fingers thread through the hair at the base of his neck, and you notice how his suddenly hooded eyes continuously spare fleeting glances down to your lips. You smirk.
“A simple ‘thank you’ is not enough to convey what this means to me.” You whisper lowly, surprising him by flipping your positions so that he’s the one pressed against the table. “What you mean to me, Seonghwa.”
One of your hands sneaks down his torso, sending a shiver up his spine as he feels you caressing his side. Then, you pull him even closer, hoisting his thigh up so that his leg wraps around your waist.
“How about it, My King?” You hum, voice nothing but sultry as your lips barely ghost over the skin of his own. “Will you allow me to demonstrate my gratitude for you?”
“Yes,” The nod of his head is immediate as he all but whimpers out a response. “Please.”
The corner of your lips twitches faintly upwards before you’re closing the rest of the distance between your two bodies. The way you hold onto him, and he to you, is nothing short of desperate, kissing one another like you are the very air you both need to breathe.
Carefully, you help him sit on top of the table, allowing for him to fully wrap his legs around your waist. Unashamedly, his hands roam over your body, pulling you in closer as his fingers dance across your skin.
The moan he lets out as you take his bottom lip between your teeth sets your heart fluttering inside of your chest.
“You are incredible, Seonghwa,” you mumble out against the skin of his lips. “And so, unbelievably beautiful.”
He moans, legs tightening around your waist as his stomach twists pleasantly.
“Shouldn’t-“ he gasps as you begin trailing your lips over his jaw, soon moving to bite at the skin of his neck, “Shouldn’t I be telling you this.”
“Some other time,” you promise, placing a lingering kiss over his racing pulse. “Right now, I want to worship you.”
The shudder that wracks his entire body does not go unnoticed by you. The fact that you can physically feel his skin heating beneath your touch says it all.
“My Queen-“
“Shhh,” you’re quick to cut him off with a peck to his lips. “Just let me take care of you.”
You pull away only the slightest bit to stare deeply into his eyes. Silently, you check in with him, brushing against that familiar blue string in your mind to make sure that he’s okay.
“Please,” he swallows. “Don’t stop.”
The tender smile that pulls at your lips says it all.
Instantly, you move back in to continue biting and sucking at his neck, your hands sneaking up his shirt and eliciting another moan from his lips. The desperate way he clings to you has a pleasant feeling building within your core, spreading outwards and warming your entire body.
To know that he wants you, that he needs you in this moment means the world to you. 
You wouldn’t have it any any other way.
Bringing your lips back to his, you swallow all of his sounds, enjoying every small whimper and moan he gives you. The way he gasps as your one hand slides up his thigh to pull him flush against you by his ass is like music to your ears.
“My Seonghwa,” you hum, slowly grinding your hips against his own.
A choked moan of your name slips passed his lips, “Yours.”
“That’s right, My Dove,” you nip lightly at his ear, feeling how he shudders once more in your hold. “You’re mine.”
“All yours,” he whimpers, burying his face into the side of your neck.
Slowly, you bring your one hand between your two bodies, beginning to palm his semi-hard cock over his jeans. The fact that he seems to desperately grind against your hand in time with your movements makes you smirk.
“My Beautiful Dove,” you hum, adding the slightest bit more pressure to your palm as you move over his clothed cock. “Do you have any idea what you mean to me?”
Softly, he shakes his head against the skin of your shoulder.
“No?” The corner of your lips tug upwards in a small grin as you pull away to meet his wide eyes. “Then, I guess I’ll have to show you.”
Your lips are back on his in an instant, pulling him flush against you. Carefully, you begin to lean him back, hovering over him as you lay him down on that table. His hands cling desperately to your back, tilting his head to give you better access to his neck every time you move to bite your marks into his skin. Marks which you know he will wear proudly for as long as he can.
“My Divine,” the whimper that escapes him goes straight to your core, feeling yourself clench around nothing.
“My Beautiful Seonghwa,” you rest your forehead gently against his own. “As if you didn’t know that forging me Andúril would be considered the grandest romantic gesture you could ever make for me.”
His chest is heaving, hips desperately seeking your own. Only, you pin him to that table, retracting your hand from over his cock and eliciting the sweetest of whines from his throat.
“As if you wouldn’t have known that I would immediately have to satisfy My King as a reward for always taking such good care of His Queen.” You continue, reaching out slightly to the side to grasp a particular object in your hand. Once you feel that cool metal of the dagger against your palm, you smirk. “Since My King has shown me nothing but a loving patience and dedication to his craft, I shall show him the same.”
Again, you lean over him, pecking his lips tenderly.
“I wish to take my time savouring you right now, Seonghwa,” you tell him gently. “As long as you’ll let me.”
At the vigorous nod of his head, along with the breathless ‘yes’ that falls from his lips, you have your answer.
You smile, eyes crinkling at the sides as your heart warms.
Slowly, carefully, you bring that dagger up his body. Gently, you tug his shirt forward, the tip of the blade kissing the material. Cautiously, you hook the blade beneath the neckline of his shirt, watching him carefully for any signs of discomfort.
You find none.
The sound of tearing fabric reaches your ears, the dagger getting tossed beside you on that table as you help him sit up once more. His lips are on yours as you strip Seonghwa of his now cut shirt, the planes of his chest on full display. The way he shivers beneath your touch as your hands roam down his bare chest has you smiling into the kiss.
Without wasting another moment, you part from him only to begin trailing your lips down his chest. You take your time, biting and sucking marks into his skin as your hands grip his waist firmly. The fact that Seonghwa arches into your touch, eyes fluttering as he feels your tongue come out to lave over his burning skin says it all.
Another moan of your name slips passed his lips.
“That’s it, My Dove,” you coo, sliding him the slightest bit forward, and back onto the edge of the table. “I want to hear how good I’m making you feel.”
Slowly, you begin to sink to your knees, allowing your fingers to trail over his thighs as you do so.
Seonghwa’s head is spinning, and with each breath, his chest heaves. He can hardly believe that this is happening right now, his hands desperately gripping at the side of his work table for dear life. The image alone of you on top of him like that, and now, with you resting on your knees between his legs, is making his cock ache for your touch once more. He needs you, and he’s sure to tell you that.
The smirk that pulls at your lips is nothing short of devious, “Patience, My Dove. I told you that I wish to take my time with you right now.”
A small whimper escapes him.
“You’re not the only one who wants my lips wrapped around you cock right now, Seonghwa.” Your eyes flash dangerously as you look up at him through your lashes. “Be patient, and I will reward you, My King.”
Seonghwa’s breath hitches in his throat, whole body stilling as your words settle over him. He can feel his cock throbbing, becoming almost painful the longer he goes with you no longer touching him.
The second you begin to undo his belt, his thighs begin to shake.
Soothingly, you rub your hands over his upper thighs, staring up at him with wide eyes. As you meet his gaze, your hands still, finger sinking into the material of his jeans as his lips part with another moan.
“Look at you,” you hum, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. “I’ve barely even done anything to you yet, and you’re ready to fall apart.”
“I’m surprised I haven’t come yet from your touches alone,” he admits lowly, voice a little rough as he clears his throat.
Your eyebrow quirks, “Oh?”
“My Divine, the feeling of your hands on me is one of the greatest sensations I’ve ever felt in my entire life.” He breathes, thighs tensing as you begin to undo the zipper of his jeans. “You already know how little self-control I seem to have around you.”
Slowly, you begin to slide the material of his jeans down his thighs as you chuckle once more. A moment later, you help him step out of them, tossing both his jeans and his boxers off to the side.
“That, I do know,” you smile knowingly. “And yet, you’re being such a good boy for me.”
His cock visibly twitches from your words, and you smirk.
“Oh?” Your brow quirks, a devious look shining behind your eyes as you look up at him. “You like it when I call you My Good Boy, don’t you.”
His grip tightens on the edges of the table, and you wonder at how the wood hasn’t cracked beneath the pressure yet.
“Yes,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut for the briefest of moments. “Fuck- I love it, My Queen.”
The giggle you let out is music to his ears.
You meet his gaze through your lashes once more, “Good boy.”
Again, his cock visibly twitches from your words. You can see how desperately he restrains himself from reaching out to you right now, his hands tense as he grips the table for dear life.
Teasingly, you trail your hands back up his thighs. Only, when you get close to his hips, you stop, dragging them back down and ensuring your nails scratch lightly over his skin.
He shudders.
The whole time you rest before him, Seonghwa keeps his gaze locked on you. Not once does he allow his eyes to fall shut, and he swears to himself that he’ll do whatever he can to engrain this memory in his mind for as long as possible. He’ll be damned if he misses even one second of you pleasing him, for you appear just as eager as he does in this moment.
He wouldn’t want it any other way.
Trailing your hands back up his thighs, you give them both another appreciative squeeze. Then, finally, you lean into him, bringing your lips to the skin of his inner thigh as your one hand wraps delicately around his cock.
The moment your fingers close around him, he moans. His lips remain parted, breaths coming in uneven pants as he feels you gently nipping at the skin of his inner thigh. The way your hand begins to move over him has his whole body twitching beneath your touch.
The closer your lips get to his aching cock, the harder it becomes for him to control himself. Desperately, Seonghwa clings onto whatever shreds of his sanity that he has left, taking in the beautiful sight that is you, on your knees, pleasing him right now.
Just when he thinks you’ll free him from your teasing licks and kisses on his one thigh, you move to the other, repeating the same actions over his skin almost lovingly.
At one particularly firm bite against his thigh, his stomach clenches. He can feel himself twitch in your hand, a low groan escaping him as he leans further back on the table for support.
You chuckle, looking up at him innocently from between his spread legs.
“My King?” 
He hums, almost absentmindedly.
“One more thing,” A devious gleam is shining behind your eyes. One which his blissed out state manages to ignore for the moment.
“Anything, My Queen.” He breathes out, breath hitching in his throat as he sees you lick your lips.
“Hands to yourself until I say so.”
As soon as those words escape you, your lips are around him. Gently, you suckle on the tip, tongue flicking over his slit a few times as you maintain eye contact with him.
A choked moan escapes him, his right hand automatically reaching out to you. Only, he catches himself, fingers twitching in midair right by your head. Slowly, reluctantly, he retracts his hand, gripping onto that table desperately for support.
The chuckle you let out reverberates along his cock, sending pleasant shivers up his spine and causing his stomach to clench. The way your tongue feels, beginning to swirl around his head as you take more of him into your mouth is making his head spin. Never before has Seonghwa been this hard in his life, and the fact that it’s all because of you is only adding to the intensity of the pleasure that he’s currently feeling.
Low, guttural groans escape him as he watches you sink further down on his cock. Languidly, your tongue strokes along his shaft, pleasant hums escaping you as you watch his every reaction carefully. The fact that his whole body trembles, fingers digging into the wood of the table has you chuckling lowly once more.
Slowly, you begin bobbing your head. What you can’t fit into your mouth, you use your one hand to stroke over, squeezing at his base a few times as you hollow your cheeks over him.
Seonghwa nearly collapses right then and there. As much as he tries, he cannot prevent the way his eyes flutter closed, tossing his head back as a moan of your name slips passed his lips.
“Just like that, My Divine,” he smiles, blinking his vision open once more to see the glorious sight that is you, on your knees before him, with his cock in your mouth. A low growl escapes him, eyes flashing black. “Fuck- just like that.”
Desperately, he does whatever he can to keep his hips from bucking further into your mouth. The wet heat of your mouth is overwhelming, nothing but pure pleasure coursing through his veins as he feels you suckling at the tip of his cock once more.
Pulling away from him for just a moment, you let your hand pump over his length a few times. Again, you lick your lips, gaze darting up to meet his own as you move in closer.
Another growl escapes him as he watches you suck one of his balls into your mouth. His whole body shudders as you slowly let it pop back out of your mouth only for you to begin placing wet, open mouthed kisses up along the bottom of his shaft. The way your tongue comes out to trace along the path shortly afterwards has him twitching in your hand.
“Oh, fuck-“ His breath catches in his throat, eyes bleeding black once more. “Again. Please, do that again.”
The way your lips are currently pressed against his cock lets Seonghwa feel every inch of the smile that pulls at your features. To his utmost pleasure, you’re almost instantly repeating your actions, taking even more time to caress your tongue along the underside of his shaft, tracing over a prominent vein.
“My Divine, please-“ he chokes out, every breath escaping him now but a mere whimper on his lips.
You spare a glance upwards and into his eyes as you tighten your hold around the base of his cock.
“I love you, My Seonghwa.”
Your lips are around him as soon as the words finish escaping you, moving over him with a newfound vigour. You barely even begin to lave your tongue over his cock when you feel him twitching within your mouth, the sound of shattering wood greeting your ears.
Whimpers and whines escape him, along with desperate cries of your name as his orgasm washes over him. His body hunches the slightest bit forward, releasing down your throat as you help to ride him through his high.
Every last drop he offers you, you swallow, humming contently around him as you lick him clean.
Your name falls like a mantra from his lips, whole body shaking as he leans against the table for support. Two chunks seem to have been torn from the wood where his hands had been gripping the table so firmly, the shattered remains littering the ground around you.
Slowly, you release him from your mouth, hearing as another guttural groan escapes him as you do so. When you spare a glance up, you notice his chest heaving, his lips parted as he stares down at you with nothing but love and pure, unfiltered awe in his gaze.
Tenderly, your hands come up to stroke over his thighs. “Good?”
“Good?” He smiles, voice deep and rough. A soft chuckle falls from his lips as he runs a hand through his disheveled hair. “I’m great. Never been better, in fact.”
You giggle, standing carefully back to your feet with a little help from him. His one hand comes up to cup the side of your face, kissing you deeply as he flips your positions so that he can push you back against his worktable now.
“Seonghwa,” you giggle against his lips. “What are you doing?”
“Returning the favour,” he growls lowly, pressing you a bit firmer into the wood behind you.
Softly, your fingers begin to thread through the hair at the back of his neck. “Some other time, yeah?”
A whine of protest escapes him, pulling away from you to look into your eyes with round, pleading ones of his own.
“Later. I promise.” You bring your hands around to cup his face tenderly in your palms. “For now, let’s go get something to eat.”
The playful quirk of his brow informs you of what it is, exactly, that he intends to eat.
“Next time.” You say, a little more firmly.
He pouts, but listens nonetheless as he begins to pull his pants back on.
“Come on, Mars.” You smile lovingly at him, grabbing his hand in yours after he’s finished putting on his belt. 
You lick your lips, taking the time to admire him for the nth time this day as he stands before you.
“My Divine, if you keep staring at me like that…” He lets his words trail off, but the darkness you see swirling behind his eyes says it all.
“What?” You chuckle, a playful smirk pulling at your lips. “I said I was hungry.”
446 notes · View notes
aseaofyoongi · 7 months
Text
where feelings bloom | kth
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kim taehyung x reader (f)
genre: fluff | smut | bffs to lovers
rating: mature audiences only (strictly 18+)
summary: vacations are the time of self reflections and revelations. so, what happens when your last day in paradise involves you trying to decipher the feelings that you’ve had blooming for your best friend kim taehyung.
warnings: where do i begin lol; post college universe; suppressed feelings; overthinking; crush culture; foul language; vag fingering; overstimulation; clitoral stimulation; pentrative sex; protected sex (wrap it up friends); non-idol au; praise; dirty talk; tae is focused on oc’s pleasure only; unlabeled relationships; no plans for a part two; out of season au (happy beginning of fall) ; not edited
word count: ~ 5.6 thousand words
posted: tuesday october 4, 2023
notable songs: ivy - frank ocean | are we still friends - tyler, the creator | todo cambio - camila | a drop in the ocean - ron pope
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Mornings were your favorite part of the day. Although, not many people agree with that ideology you couldn’t help but be enamored by the way day the birds chirped their peaceful melody awakening you right up from your slumber, the glare of the beaming sun highlighting its waves of heat right into your face, the song of the crashing of waves against the shore. . but most of all you loved that for the last eight nights you have been waking up in an island paradise and you got to share it with your absolute favorite person in the entire world. Your best friend, Taehyung. 
Your soulmate, well platonic soulmate; your other half; your light in the darkest of tunnels. That’s who he was and honestly you couldn’t even recall a minute or even a second in the course of your life when Taehyung hadn’t been there with you. 
You met Taehyung long ago. Twenty-one years ago to be precise—marking the very moment you came out of your mother’s womb. Your mother’s had been best friends for years (still are), so your birth marked the day when you would meet your mother and father; but it also marked the day when you met Taehyung. He was already a couple of weeks older than you but your mother’s paired you up and built a friendship among the two of you long before you ran around in diapers together, bathed in kiddie pools with your favorite toys, before you took your first steps or even uttered your very first words. 
By definition, you were meant to be in Taehyung’s life and Taehyung was meant to be in yours. There was no re-writing that bit of history and besides you’d never do it even if you could. The constellations of your stars align and are guided right into each other’s path. 
Truly. He is going to be your person today, tomorrow and hopefully an eternity after that. You’ll always be there for him even after the sun dims and the oceans dry. There is no one you’d rather call your best friend and no one else who you would rather have invading every inch of your life. 
The door to the connecting room swung open and surely enough there he was leaning against the door frame. The blonde streaks of his wet hair fell past his dark brown eyes and thick eyebrows covering their entirety. On the same note you finally registered that he only wore a pair of gray sweat shorts that hung low on his hips; all while he remained bare on the top half of his body showing off his lean physique and although Taehyung didn’t have abs he was still fit—very awe striking. 
“Whatever happened to ceasing the day?” he exclaimed, his eyes turned to fiery pits as he likely replayed whatever crazy scenario he had planned for the day back in his head, “it’s nine in the morning. What are you still doing in bed. .  Why are you still in your pajamas?” 
“I was too lazy to get up,” you looked at the digital clock on the night stand beside you blinking its bright red numbers back at your sleep-riddled eyes. 
“Tonight is our last night on this slice of paradise heaven so get your ass up and let’s go let’s go let’s go,” he snapped his fingers before ripping the covers off of your body. 
“We have over twenty-four hours before we gotta head back home,” you patted the empty spot on the bed next to you and he jumped right in, cozying up under the covers, “just let me lay here for like ten more more. Is that okay with you, mom?” 
He groaned, “Fine but we better be up in ten minutes or I plan to carry you right down to the beach, pajamas and all.” 
“Yeah, sure,” you pulled the white duvet over your head signaling you were ready to drift back into the remnant of tiredness that lingered behind from all the activities you had partook in for the past week, “just ten more minutes. Just ten,” you mumbled, your eyes felt heavy as you drifted back into a deep slumber. 
“Just ten,” you heard his voice from a distance, so far away. Yet his body heat lingered close by and the apricity was easily welcomed against the skin of your back. 
Ten minutes turned into four hours and by the time your eyes fluttered open it was just after four in the afternoon. The sun still beamed bright through the drawn blinds heating up your body as the rays met your skin. You stretched carefully and rubbed sleep off your eyes before turning around to face Taehyung. He remained sound asleep—eyes shut tightly, mouth slightly ajar, and soft snores sounding like the steady, peaceful melody of lullabies.
Taehyung is truly beautiful. So beautiful, in-fact that it kind of made you stop in your tracks every so often and you couldn’t help but just look at him. Drinking in his striking features; his big brown eyes, his hair soft like silk, and his raucous voice so deep and soothing. 
Taehyung is truly a work of art. So much so that every candid moment captured behind the pixels of his pictures belonged in art galleries around the world. 
You noticed you were attracted to your best friend the summer after your sophomore year of high school. The two of you had spent the entire summer together—inseparable as usual. But towards the end of the summer as the first day of school approached, you and Taehyung engaged in a short adventure to the lake on the outskirts of town. You’d had truly an amazing time and you ended up inside a small diner having greasy food and chocolate shakes. You hadn’t processed it back then but looking back now you remember the way your heart was pounding, the way your palms were sweaty and the way all of your butterflies flapped their wings against the pit of your stomach. 
It’s so obvious looking back now—how much you truly liked him while you sat in that booth in the back of that diner. There, it felt like no one else inhabited the establishment. Just the two of you and the secret that took root in your heart. 
A secret so taboo you buried it somewhere deep in the back of your mind, but every time your eyes caught a glimpse of him there it all was. Everything, all over again, causing a daze in your mind and making your chest ache. 
“Wake up, Tae Tae,” you shook him slightly, pushing all of those thoughts aside. 
“Huh?” he groaned, twisting and turning mindlessly in the ocean of sheets. 
“We have gone against your beloved schedule for the day and I’m afraid I was the culprit,” you sat up against the headboard and he followed along laying his head on your shoulder. 
“We didn’t just sleep for ten minutes did we?” 
You shook my head, “it’s around four o’clock right now.” 
“That chopped off half of my itinerary,” his voice was soothing—gruff with hints of exhaustion lingering behind. 
“Oh, come one,” you cooed, “what’s left?” 
“The beach is just across the street, the pool’s downstairs or we can go out to get something to eat.” 
“What do you really wanna do?” you asked. 
He yawned widely mimicking a cub; so cute.
“Maybe we can lounge around by the pool for a bit and come back up here to order food,” he suggests, “I know I had hours planned of things to do for the day but I’m kind of exhausted.” 
“It’s not like you to skip out on the beach. . are you sure you wanna just go to the pool?” 
“Actually. .” he continued in his smooth voice, “I don’t even think I have the energy for that.” 
“Impossible!” you exclaimed, “you don’t get to be lazy, that’s my thing.” 
“It’s contagious,” Taehyung whined, snuggling closer to your side.  His cheeks felt like fire on your shoulder and you swore having him that close caused your breath to hitch at your throat. 
“So what—what, uh,” you cleared your throat, “what do you wanna do instead? Do we stay in for our last day here?” 
He nodded, “I think so. I mean, we’ve done a lot of things for the past few days.” 
“Do you wanna pick the movie or the food for us tonight?” 
“I refuse to watch a horror movie tonight so I’m in charge of picking the movie,” he reached for the remote control on the table next to his side of the bed. 
You rolled your eyes, picking up the phone and looking through the booklet the hotel provided with a number of different restaurant chains and their menus. After a bit of back and forth between you and Tae as you tried to settle on things, you decided on pizza and a random rom-com on one of the dozen streaming apps provided on the television. 
Fifteen minutes later, the food had arrived and Taehyung sat beside you once again, your elbows dangerously close. Your mind, barely on the movie that’s been playing for approximately thirty minutes now, your pizza sat cold on your plastic plate and your thoughts assimilate a busy intersection. 
There are so many things you could do but every single one also sat dangerously close to being the end of your friendship with Kim Taehyung. 
“Are you okay?” Taehyung closed the pizza box sitting in front of his crossed legs. 
You reeled yourself back from your thoughts, “yeah, I’m okay.” 
“You’ve been mindlessly staring at your slice of pizza for the past thirty minutes,” he added, placing his hand on your shoulder, “are you sure you’re okay?” 
This is how it’s been for some time now. Taehyung remained as soon as ever engaging in the sweetest gestures of comfort a best friend could engage in while your stupid, stupid mind developed its own reality of translating his platonic touches into something more—something it’ll never be. 
“I’m okay really. I guess I’m just uh, not that hungry,” you forced a smile on your lips, it actually hurt, “I’m gonna get some fresh air.” 
You opened the glass sliding door and walked out onto the balcony, the briny aroma from cerulean waves just ahead became your aromatherapy—easing your nerves. Allowing you to bury every insipid thought you’d birthed as a cause of your delusions. 
Your stupid mind and its delusions. 
Your hands landed on the black metal railing, closing your eyes and you began softly inhaling through your nose and then out your mouth. You did that over and over until you imagined yourself alone, somewhere peaceful where Taehyung was a long way from invading your thoughts in the best and worst way possible. 
“I know being here for so long has made us both homesick but I didn’t think you’d be the one most affected by all of this,” his voice sounded dangerously close. God, all you wanted was a moment alone—a moment to yourself. . To halt all your thoughts. All of them. 
“Yeah, I guess I’ve been pretty homesick,” but you weren’t homesick at all. 
“Don’t worry, tomorrow we’ll set foot back home and you’ll be back on your bed relaxing,” you hadn’t looked at him just yet but you could tell he was smiling. 
“Yeah, I suppose that’s all I’ve wanted.” 
“I knew it,” his hand landed on yours on top of the railing, his thumb rubbed circles on your wrist, “I know you, you know. You’re like the only person on earth who can’t seem to enjoy a vacation.” 
He was wrong—you have enjoyed this vacation; his company. It’s only solidified everything you’ve ever felt for him and that was the problem. But how could you say that without actually saying that? 
You chuckled, “I have enjoyed this vacation. It’s been quite reflective. . Eye opening.” 
“Hopefully, the fun kind of eye opening,” he began, “you need to learn to have fun. Let loose.” 
“Your party ways have definitely been contagious,” you looked into his eyes, the way you never have before and for a minute you became lost in their darkness—but surprisingly, you were at ease, “I’ve definitely learned all the ropes to having fun.” 
“After years of trying I’m glad you’ve finally learned something from your best friend. I’m proud,” Taehyung walked towards one of the lounge chairs and sat. 
“Yeah, I guess I’ve learned everything from you these past couple days,” you mumbled. 
“See? You could’ve just skipped college just as I did.” 
“That,” you sat on the chair beside his, “my parents would’ve killed me for.” 
He scoffed, “that’s another thing I gotta teach you now that we’re twenty-one. Bravery is crucial. Learn to speak your mind unapologetically.” 
Easier said than fucking done when your mind, heart and body scream out for him. His attention, his touch and his love. 
“Bravery.” 
“Exactly,” he encouraged, “bravery is a passage so securing everything you want in life. Hold on to that; embrace it. Thread towards everything head on.” 
“Well, in that case I hated college. I really really did. And I don’t even fucking like science I don’t know why I majored in Biology. I miss high school and the days we used to chill on the rooftop of the abandoned bowling alley after school when we had nothing better to do.” 
He laughed, likely reminiscing on the good time, “I miss that too and nobody said we had to stop. We’re adults but our customs shouldn’t have to die, right?” 
“Right.” 
“So, we have a date on top of the abandoned bowling alley as soon as we get back.” 
“A date,” you mumbled, the word causing your skin to prickle up with goosebumps. 
“A date. That’s right.” 
Surely, Taehyung didn’t know the effect. . The implication that the word had on you and your emotions. He couldn’t know about the way your hands began to sweat and the way your heart beat erratically as he kept referring to your late afternoon escapes in that exact way. A date. 
“A date with you,” you began, your tongue did all the work while your mind ceased all control, “you don’t even know what those words do to me.” 
His voice was low, “what does it do to you?” 
Your eyes steered in his direction and Taehyung was still sitting right beside you, but closer. His eyebrows were furrowed together inquisitively, his intent gaze was set on your figure disregarding all of his surroundings entirely—as if he didn’t want to overlook a single detail about you ever again. 
You shook your head feeling like maybe you’d said a little too much already, “just. . Forget it.” 
“Impossible,” he said, “bravery, remember? Penny for your thoughts.” 
“Trust me, Tae. You don’t wanna know.”
“I do.” 
You exhaled softly, “please don’t make me say it.” 
“Say it,” his voice grew deeper and still it felt as softest as velvet would against your skin. 
You closed your eyes trying to unscramble the words in your mind, to unravel your mangled feelings and decipher exactly how much of yourself you wanted to strip bare in front of him. 
“I—“ it was so hard to let it out. To just say it. 
“You?” 
“Taehyung,” you breathed, “I just have these feelings I just can’t seem to ever shake off.” 
“Are they good feelings or bad feelings?” he asked. 
“I’m not too sure,” you shrugged looking off into the clear sky dusted off in orange tones as the sun began migrating down towards the horizon, “—but they’re definitely confusing feelings if I had to say for sure.” 
“Confusing?” 
“Confusing,” well not so much confusing but rather—hard to decipher, impossible to act on, forbidden, off limits, what else? 
It’s you.  
“Come on,” he scoffed, “I’m your best friend. Surely, you can tell me what’s gotten into your head.” 
But that’s the problem. . You’re my best friend and you’ll only ever be my best friend. It’s both the twist between a blessing and a curse. 
It’s you. It’s you. It’s you. 
You’ve gotten into my head. 
It’s you. It’s you. It’s you. 
It’s you. It’s you. It’s you. 
The voice kept on and on no matter how hard you worked to block it out. It was a reminder that he navigated your thoughts and made you giddy in love, one you didn’t need or want. It’s you. It’s you. It’s you, “it’s you.” 
“What?” He asked. Did you say something? You hadn’t said anything. You hadn’t. 
“What?” you repeated. 
“You said it’s me. .” His stare was blank; hard to read but his eyes were golden under the rays of the departing sun. 
You stared back at him without saying a single word. 
“You said it was me,” he stuttered, “You you said. . What do you mean, it’s me?” 
In that moment you stood before a crossroad unbeknownst to the righteous path to take. Jungling the implications of your two options and how they would affect your relationship with Taehyung from that day. Of course, on one side you had the lie, your very own cloak of invisibility. The same one you’d been hiding behind for years and the same one you’d continue to hide behind—down that road your feelings would be stomped on and you’d watch Taehyung behind a soundproof glass always dwelling on what ifs and what could’ve beens. 
On the other side, there was the truth, the road where you would be stripping yourself bare with every step forward you took. Taehyung would finally be aware of your deepest secret—the one where he occupied your thoughts from the earliest hours of the morning to the latest hours of the night. He would know that your mind often lingered off into vivid daydreams where your imagination ran wild creating scenarios where he was finally yours; he would know the way your balms grew balmy and your heartbeat every time he came near. There would be no more hiding, but here you ran the risk of rejection and the destruction of your friendship. 
So you stood in front of the two avenues unsure of which direction to head towards in order to begin your journey. But Taehyung waited for an answer while you made a safe haven at your pit stop cocooned by fear and indecisiveness. 
The late afternoon breeze rustled the palm tree fronds, swaying them back and forth lightly. You and Taehyung were twenty stories up so that swishing sound was the only thing filling the silence between the two of you. Still, you swallowed your words hoping that he would somehow forget that you said anything. 
“Hey!” he rested his warm hand on your thigh calling out for your attention and finally you looked at him. There was no longer a blank gaze lingering in his eyes, now, he seemed worried, “did I do something?” 
Oh, this is spiraling out of control so fast. All because you couldn’t keep your fucking mouth shut. 
Say something. . ANYTHING! 
“No—“ you cleared your throat, “no it’s not that at all, trust me.” 
“Then, what is it?” 
“It’s not important.” 
He shook his head, “whatever it is, it seems to be bothering you a lot so it is important.” 
There was no getting out of this. Not anymore. 
“I guess I just don’t know how to say it,” you jumped over a million hurdles in your mind trying to decipher the best way to just say it. Finally, you took a deep breath allowing your lips to move at their own leisure, “I like you.” 
You were so dizzy and enveloped within your own scrambled thoughts. Even though you tried to keep your eyes off of him you couldn’t help but glance at him from the corner of your eyes.  And Taehyung just sat there with wide eyes and his mouth slightly parted. 
“You like me?” he asked, pausing in-between each word, “like you like me or you like like me?” 
You closed your eyes, “I like like you.” 
“Like more than just best friends?” 
Did you really have to spell it out? Admitting your feelings out loud had you in a state of intense bashfulness, “yes, Taehyung. I like you as more than just a best friend. I have for some time now but it’s okay if you don’t think of me that way. I didn’t even really want to tell you because I was always too scared to ruin our friendship.” 
“Come over here,” Taehyung patted the spot right beside him and you moved to sit next to him. He stared deep into your eyes before continuing, “nothing can ever come in between us or our friendship, okay?” 
“Okay. .” You felt like a massive weight had been lifted off your chest allowing you to inhale and exhale once again. 
“Beside,” Taehyung caressed your cheek softly using the pads of his tender fingers. Quickly, you began feeling at ease as a result of his touch. Then, his fingers migrated lower tracing the outline of your round cheeks until they reached your chin and slowly he began guiding your face towards his so much so that his lips sat just inches away from yours, “I never said I didn’t feel the same way.” 
“You can’t just say things like that,” you placed your hands over his as they still held you close. 
“I’m not just saying it,” he argued. 
“You are,” you shook your head, “you’re just saying it to spare my feelings but I’ll be okay, Tarhyung. I’m a big girl. I can take a little rejection.” 
“We’ve been friends long enough for you to know that I wouldn’t just say something like that.” 
That was true, “but why didn’t you say anything before?”
“Same as you, I suppose,” he shrugged as his eyes remained intently on yours, “I feared that you wouldn’t feel the same and I didn’t want that to drive you away.” 
It’s astonishing how the only thing standing between the two of you and your happiness—and love was yourselves. Doubt and the fear of rejection steered your lives in opposite directions although the gravitational forces stringing your hearts together worked diligently to drive the two of you towards each other despite your cowardice. 
“I wouldn’t leave you.” 
Taehyung flashed his signature boxy smile, so warm and comforting you felt like he wrapped around you in a warm hug. 
“I wouldn’t leave you either,” his eyes focused on your mouth tracing every line and crevice before he met your eyes once again. 
The lingering doubt gnawed at your already splintered confidence so despite your treasurous thoughts screamed that he wanted to kiss you in that very moment, your body remained frozen in place—incapable of emitting an appropriate response, too nervous to react in any way and way too scared to make the wrong move. 
“Can—” he looked at your lips once again, “can I confess something else?” 
“What?” he leaned closer, your nose brushed against his and you couldn’t help closing your eyes. You were feeling too much at once. 
“I really want to kiss you right now.” 
“So kiss me,” you whispered. 
Taehyung laid back on the chair before pulling you onto his lap as your legs straddled his lap. His hands traveled mindlessly along your body until they finally found their destination on your neck—his method of saying you were simply too far because immediately he began pushing you towards him. Your heart was erratic, your hands were sweating and there were about a million scenarios playing in your head depicting every single way you could probably fuck this up. 
But all of that flew right out of your head as soon as your lips met his. Kissing you so passionately you felt grounded, as if he was your home and this is exactly where you were meant to be; where you belonged. 
Noone had kissed you like that before and you liked how his kisses were the words on endless pages of his love confession while his tongue sealed the envelope before sending you off into daydreams depicting scenes such as this one and so much more. 
Taehyung pulled away; heaving; attempting to catch his breath, “I think—I think we should move inside. It’s getting late.” 
Before you knew it your back crashed against the ocean of bed sheets and Taehyung followed right behind picking up where he left off. While his kisses worked to leave you breathless, his hand raked down the fabric of your top before stopping at the waistband of your sweat shorts. 
“Can I?” 
You nodded frantically anticipating all of the lustrous desires that had sparked up in your mind in the latest hours of the night, “yes.” 
Taehyung moved past the waistband and lower down where only the thin layer of your panties stood between his fingers and your cunt but he did not touch you—not yet, you shuddered in anticipation, wondering how he’d render his concupiscent touch. You grew stupefied and your thoughts came to a halt as his teeth tucked at your lower lip, sweeping into your mouth. Everything he did worked to satiate the hunger growing within you, the very one crying out for him to devour you entirely once and for all. 
He pulled away from your lips you felt his hands move under the fabric of your shorts, moving your panties to the side lining up two fingers at your entrance, you gasped once before Taehyung slated his mouth over yours swallowing every whimper and every moan to escape your lips as he pumped into you slowly. 
It was a vicious repetition that already had you soaked, you uttered low whimpers but it seems he was only fueled by your sensitivity moving quicker and quicker by the second. 
He parted away from your lips, whispering in your ear, “you're so wet and warm baby. Fuck, you feel so good, so tight around my fingers. So fucking good.”  
“Ah, fuck. Oh, Taehyung please, please don’t stop. Okay? Don’t stop,” you whimpered as you moved to meet his quicken movements fucking yourself on his fingers so sweetly. 
“I won’t stop. I promise you I won’t,” his voice was hoarse as he continued, the lewd promises he whispered sent glacial shivers down your spine and you felt the way your legs began shaving. 
“Taehyung,” you moaned. 
“Say my name like that again,” he groaned. 
You snaked your hand around your neck twisting the blonde locs draped on the back of his neck before whispering his name once again he smirked going on and on. There was a flame igniting in the pit of your stomach and there was nothing more potent; nothing you could devote your attention to. The only thing you crave was to put that fire out. So you moved quicker against him until your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you reached that high and finally the fire ceased. 
Taehyung left a peck on your cheek before aiding you in removing all of the pesky fabrics standing between him and the vulnerability of your nude body, then, he took off his own leaving only his briefs on. He kneeled in front of your stretched out legs and his finger burned streaks on your skin as they caressed your inner thigh, continuing to devote his attention everywhere but where you actually needed him most. 
“Please. .” you begged. 
“Please?”
“Please,” you said sternly. 
“What do you want?” he questioned with a smug look painted on his features, the little bitch was teasing you. 
“You know what I want.” 
“I want to hear you say it,” you gasped as he grazed your enterance coating his digits in the combination of your juices and cum before shoving them in his mouth, licking them clean, “you taste so good, you know.” 
“Eat me out Taehyung, please,” you cried out. 
“I thought you’d never ask.” 
He sunk deeper in his place until his face was no longer in your line of vision, beads of sweat rolled down your temples and you ached with fervidity. His breath fanned against your core and at that moment you knew he was near but it wasn’t until he wrapped his hands around your thighs pulling you closer to his face that you truly felt exposed. Taehyung brushed his lips over your slit leaving a trail of gentle kisses behind. 
Using his tongue he separated his lips before gravitating towards your clit. He enveloped the sensitive bud between his lips quickly beginning his attack in the form of ravenous sucks and licks.  
You gasped clutching onto the sheets to release the tension building within you. Everything you wanted to say out loud died in the back of your throat but you didn’t care about the words you couldn’t say. Your mind was too focused on the way your legs shuddered and your pelvis lifted into the air. 
“I’m—“ you cried out, “I’m so so close.” 
His fingers found themselves pushing past your entrance once again, pumping into you at a quickened pace. It was almost too much but you focused on the overstimulation of his tongue and touch. That inferno you felt once before burned brightly, this time you couldn’t map out a way to extinguish in its entirety. It would always burn and Kim Taehyung would always be the cause of it. 
Whoever said playing with fire was a bad thing was a fucking liar because these flames warmed you up so good like an addiction you just would not want to ever shake off. 
You reached down, raking your fingers through his blonde strands pushing him closer to you, doing so until trembled uncontrollably, spilling over on his fingers. 
Taehyung emerged with swollen lips, his disheveled hair and his spit mixed with your juices on his chin. His fucked-out look was one that would live in your mind like an art work hung in a gallery. 
“Unbeknownst to you, I’ve been yours for a while now,” he stopped to catch his breath, “but after tonight I want you to know that I am yours.” 
Your eyes remained shut but you grinned nevertheless, “I believe that’s the post sex bliss talking.” 
“I’m not the type to just say anything because of the moment at hand. I mean everything I say.” 
“Okay,” you smiled, “can you say you’ll fuck me then or do I have to wish for it when I spot a shooting star for it to come true.” 
He chuckled, it was low and thunderous so soothing and calming. It was always peaceful and eased your nerves even now as you laid completely naked. 
“I’m sorry, were you planning to fuck someone on a vacation?” you asked ogling, as he fetched a golden packet from his discarded pant pocket, removed his briefs and slipped the condom around his cock. 
“Only you,” he said, pressing the tip against your entrance far enough to have your mouth agape as a result but never enough to satisfy your craving to have him fucking you against the mattress, “I promise.” 
“Taehyung, if you don’t fuck me right now I might actually loose my mind.” 
He didn’t say anything else, you just felt him sliding in slowly giving you the time to adjust before he began moving in and out of you gradually. The air circulating the gray walls around the two of you became humid, hot enough to coat your body in a thin layer of sweat. You didn’t care though, you were enraptured in the feeling of him inside of you, in the echoing sounds of his skin slapping against your skin and his guttural grunts every time he drove into you. 
Reality was you’d imagined this moment many many times in your head before but nothing, none of your dreams or your wildest fantasies could’ve prepared you for how much better this felt in person.  
There were goosebumps running rampant on your arms, your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your moans and whimpers only increased in volume but you couldn’t help it. 
“Harder—harder, please,” your nails drug into his back leaving bright red scratches behind. 
“Harder,” he repeated that very word over and over, quickly moving to execute your request. 
You felt all of the air being punched out of you everytime he buried himself deep in you, “Oh, yes, like that.” 
Taehyung hugged your waist listing your lower half up from the mattress and continued slamming into you. 
“I’m,”  he thrust into you.  
“—yours,”again.  
“—to take,” again.
“Use me,” and again. 
“Use me.” 
You clenched around him continuously, your vision blurred and you felt waves of the scorching heat in the pit of your stomach burning brighter and hotter than they ever had that night until finally you let go. 
Taehyung collapsed beside you, the two of you heaved in attempts to catch your breath. 
“Fuck,” was all you said. 
“Fuck, is right,” he laughed, “I’ll get a warm bath started for us.” 
He placed a kiss on your forehead then one on your lips before disappearing into the bathroom. 
Taehyung is your best friend but he is also the man who’s taken over your heart in a way that exceeds your platonic bond. 
There were no labels attached to what the two of you were but you didn’t need them for now because you knew that Taehyung would always be there for you no matter what the situation looked like. 
“Hey, are you ready to clean up?” he kneeled down next to the bed looking into your eyes.
“Of course.” 
-
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a/n: out of season au cause im a slow writter but i hope everyone had a good summer and is looking forward to the fall 🍂🍁🍃
what will you miss most about summer?
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Twisted Monsterland: Sleepy Birds
So…let’s talk harpies.
Without going into details about the overall species (I’ll save that for the baby monster bestiary I’m working on), I will say that harpies can be based on all species of birds. Falcons, eagles, and vultures? Sure, they’re more commonly known as the base foundation for the species, but they’re not the only ones! Crowley is a good example as a corvid harpy, and some of Rook’s siblings are based on birds of paradise like parrots and macaws! Some can even be based on delicate birds like the hummingbird~
Oof…just thinking about having to flap my arms that fast as a harpy makes me tired! 0.0
Now, you’re probably wondering, “That’s neat! But…where are you going with this?” And that’s a good question! Because we’re gonna talk about birbs~!
I’ve never owned a bird as a pet before, but my grandparents had one when we used to visit in my childhood. One thing I learned about birds (aside from the fact that we had to clap whenever their bird performed a trick on her own and someone saw it) is that one common thing bird owners do to calm down their feathery companions:
The “sleepy-time blanket”!
When the blanket goes over the cage, it’s supposed to mimic night time so the bird thinks it’s time to sleep. And when the cover is removed? It’s time to sing good morning~! Granted, it seems like this varies from bird-to-bird, but considering how often I’ve struggled to stay awake in school whenever the teachers used powerpoint slides in a dark room? Yeah, I get very sleepy in those cases. 😅
Now…imagine if Yuu discovered this by complete accident in the Monster!AU. >v>
////
Yuu: *hanging laundry out to dry on a bright, sunny day* “Hey, Grim? I need another clothes peg. The middle is sagging too much.”
Grim: “Yeah, yeah, here.” *flaps wings to hover next to Yuu, holding a bag in his paws* “Are we done yet? I’m bored…”
Yuu: “We’d be done sooner if someone hadn’t taken one of the bedsheets while the ghosts were collecting laundry and added one more load to wash and dry.” *unaware of a large shadow on the other side of the sheet, Yuu frowning as they go to take the sheet down and redo the arrangement*
???: “Bonjour, little Trickster~!”
Yuu/Grim: “Ack-!?!”
Crash!! Fwomp!
Grim: *pinned under Yuu* “Get…off! You’re heavy!”
Yuu: “Ow…sorry!” *climbs to their feet with a wince before turning to face the visitor now covered under the sheet* “Rook! You scared us half-to-death!”
*Rook doesn’t move, eerily silent as he stands there*
Grim: “Hm? Hey, wazza matter? You usually start talkin’ funny by now!” *huffs when he doesn’t get a response and goes to peek under the sheet* “Hey! Are you listenin’ to m…eh? Wait a minute…he’s asleep!?"
Yuu: “Huh??”
Grim: “He fell asleep standing! See?!” *yanks off blanket, pulling off Rook’s hat at the same time*
Rook: *straightens up with a blink, fluttering his wings before feathers settle down and he smiles* “Oh, there you are, Trickster. How are you faring this morning?”
Grim: “Mrah!? I thought you were asleep! What gives?”
Rook: “Hm? I was asleep? I don’t recall…”
Grim: “Yes you were! You were practically snorin’!”
Yuu: *picks up the sheet again, looking between it and Rook before slowly climbing back on the stepladder near Rook*
Rook: “Non, non, I promise you that I did not fall aslee-”
Yuu: *throws sheet over Rook’s head again*
Rook: “Mon di-!?” *freezes before slumping, standing in place in silence again*
Yuu: “…holy crap…I wonder if this’ll work on Ace or Cater?”
Grim: “What’s going on?!”
////
Needless to say, Rook was thoroughly confused by this until Yuu told him what happened. This also leads to a discussion on harpy parents using their wings to settle down rowdy chicks and restless hatchlings. Suffice to say, Yuu decided to run their own experiment on their fellow winged students. The results were…interesting to say the least.
Ace: Froze in place but was wide awake.
Cater: Fell asleep but collapsed on his side.
Leona: Blanket was torn to shreds from manticore quills. Hiding out in Diasomnia until he cools down.
Kalim: Normal blanket activates the zoomies. Introduced weighted blanket. Instant calm and Jamil is left baffled and grateful at the same time by this discovery!
Crowley: Fell asleep instantly. Sheets have been weaponized by the staff on occasion, so now he flies away at the sight of anyone carrying one towards him.
Seeing these results makes Yuu question what other animal reactions the students can possibly have. Meanwhile, their fellow students are warily watching the human scribble down notes in a notepad while carrying a jar of peanut butter.
Jack: “…why do you need me to be in beast form?”
Yuu: “I wanted to see something.”
Jack: “Okay…but what’s with the peanut butter?”
Yuu: “This? It’s just a tasty snack.” *opens it and scoops out a large spoonful* “See? Just regular peanut butter.”
Jack: “…alright.” *shifts into Fu dog form, nearly eye-to-eye with Yuu now* “Okay. What did you want to se—mfph!?!” *scrambles back after Yuu shoves the spoonful of peanut butter in his mouth, licking and trying to chew at the same time* “Blamph! Namf-nif-thaths?!”
Yuu: *scribbling notes* “Fu dogs react to peanut butter like dogs. Fascinating…I wonder if catnip affects manticore too?”
Ruggie: “Do you have some sort of death wish???”
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fanaticsnail · 13 days
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Ohh, Snail, now I can't stop thinking about you writing that Corazon x AussiReader idea from the fanart you rebloged. Poor sweet baby 🥺 dealing with giant spiders and cute feral angry koalas, nooo, Cora, don't try to hug them, they may look cute, but they will eat your face 😱
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Rosinante's Trip Down Under
Masterlist Here
Oh my goodness, Miss Vita! How gorgeous is it, though? Art by @rainnartt (CHECK OUT THEIR OTHER ART, IT'S AMAZING!!)
Synopsis: Modern AU, Rosinante visiting your hometown in Queensland Australia. He is overwhelmed by the cultural differences, but loves to learn the slang.
I did go a little crazy in the tags, definitely ran away with me a little here.
Could you imagine, though? As an Australian, I can confirm: if it looks like it can kill you, it can kill you. If it looks like it can’t kill you, it absolutely can kill you. Our poor, clumsy man never stood much of a chance, did he?
In this picture, he looks like could be in Bondi, the Gold Coast or Surfers Paradise by the looks of it. I am going to put him in the Queensland region for the sake of the plot. This is how I see it going. 
Drabble Fic Word Count: 1,800+
Themes: rosinante x gn!reader, platonic fic, crack fic, modern au, reader is Australian, Rosinante is Spanish, Au he lives.
Tag list: @since-im-already-here @i-am-vita @feral-artistry @sordidmusings @writingmysanity @remisloves @mfreedomstuff @gingernut1314 @cinnbar-bun @carrotsunshine
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Taking your new friend Donquixote Rosinante to your favorite sights in Surfers Paradise. His eyes widen in wonder, staring at sights that come so naturally to you, but are so out of the norm for him. You are happy to play tourist in your hometown, marveling at the sights as he experiences them for the first time. 
Outside of your local McDonalds and picking up a common comfort breakfast food for his adult adoptive son, who elected to remain back at home in the hotel as he adjusts to the time difference, Rosinante’s shriek prompted you to turn to meet him.
“What the hell is that?” he remarks, extending his pointer finger towards the large waste bin adjacent to the doorway.
“Oh, that’s a skip, Corazon. The red is for rubbish,” you continue, pointing at the other bin, “The yellow lid is for recyclables, and the green is for food and biodegradable-.”
“No! The thing with the massive beak!” he shrieks, watching as the dark-head bird pokes its head above the bin. The large hooked beak elevates a half-consumed cheeseburger before it gulps down the burger in a single motion.
“Oh!” you laugh at your blonde friend, clapping a hand over his shoulder, “That’s an ibis. We call them ‘bin chickens’ or ‘tip chooks’ depending on your region. They’re scavengers, they won’t hurt you.”
“A bin chicken, skip bin,” he hums, his brow furrowed in deep thought as he commits the name to memory, “And you call McDonalds ‘Macca’s’, right?”
“That’s right,” you hum your confirmation with a curt nod. He hums in response before ushering you along the pathway towards the hotel. 
As you continue walking along the sandy coastline, you notice he’s halted outside a petrol station. A large truck is parked beside the building: checkered blue and white painted on it’s side and large font titled “POLICE” and “0.05: DRUGS”. 
“Is this your local law enforcement?” he asks you, tilting his head to the side. 
“Yeah, that’s our local booze bus parked next to a divvy van,” you nod in affirmation, “They do regular drug and alcohol testing for drivers to ensure their safety on the road. Weird that they’re outside of a servo, though. Usually they’re on the main roads.” He nods his head and hums.
“Booze bus. Divvy Van,” he looks over to the petrol station, arching his brow high, “Servo?” 
“I know, it’s a lot,” you confirm with an apologetic smile, “I promise it gets easier to adapt to the slang the longer you practice.” He nods again. 
Passing a local park with a children’s play area, you manage to see your friend David from work, his two children playing together on the looped climbing frames and plastic slide. 
“Davo!” you call out to him, waving your unoccupied hand in front of you - considering the other contains a paper bag filled with the fruits of your labor. 
“How the bloody hell are’ ya goin’, Darl’?!” his nasally voice cracked to you, “Who’s the fella ya got there with ya?” You smile at him, walking to embrace him.
“This is Rosinante Corazon, the friend I mentioned was visiting from Spain,” you informed him, “How’s the missus back at home? How’s the kids?”
“Mate! Howzit goin’?” he extended his hand out to Rosinante, who placed his hand within and gave it a gentle shake who mumbled a soft ‘pleased to meet you’ in response.
“Ah, and the ankle biters are doin’ great. Givin’ the missus a bit of a reprieve here at the park, tough gig bein’ an ambo driver.” He glanced over his shoulder at his children, ensuring they were safe now they’ve climbed to an elevated height. 
“Oh I’m glad she’s managing to take a break. She’s a tough lady,” you nod to him, smiling over at the two children who wave at you while playing with a make-shift telescope. 
“Well, I shouldn’t keep you,” he confesses, gesturing down to the brown bag clutched in your hands, “Don’t want that brekky gettin’ cold now, do we?” You laugh at him, waving him off before waving at his children. 
Rosinante remained silent, only muttering a few words that stood out to him: “Darl’, fella, mate, missus, ankle biters, ambo driver, brekky,” on a perpetual loop.  
“You okay there, Rosi?” you quirk up at him, a soft smile pulling at your cheeks. 
“I’m alright, Darl,” he attempted, his voice falling to his nose and emulating the accent he heard moments prior, “Is that a common term of endearment here? ‘Darl’ and ‘mate’? How do you go with gender neutral titles?”
“Both of those titles can be used interchangeably, regardless of gender,” you inform him, “It all depends on context and the way you say it.” he hums again, nodding along and muttering several phrases he learnt. He reaches into the circular cup cardboard and pulls out his coffee and takes a small sip. 
Your feet finally carry your way over to the lobby of the hotel where he was staying with Law, his body immediately halting in front of the surf, dive and ski shop. His head cocked to the side, staring at the large, rectangular basket outside the shop. You follow his line of sight, which remained locked on to a large, canvas sign attached to the basket. 
“Ah,” you click your tongue, noticing they’re focussed on a common shoe worn in this area, “Do you and Law need a new pair of thongs? I know the bottoms melt a little when the bitumen gets a bit hot.” 
“You want me and Law to wear what?” he turned towards you with his eyes wide and jaw dropped. It took a moment for you to understand the miscommunication, your eyes growing wide and your nervous laughter propelling your anxiety further. 
“No, no, no, no, no!,” you managed to choke out, “No, we call ‘flip-flops’ ‘thongs’ here. Is that what had you a little confused? A basket full of shoes where you thought lingerie should be?” Rosinante laughed alongside you, shaking his head from side to side.
“You got me,” he chuckled, raising his coffee to his lips once more, “Our differences are quite vast, aren’t they?” 
“I suppose they are,” you acknowledge with a shrug and a broad, tight-lipped smile. He hums once again, muttering several phrases as you step into the elevator. 
Clicking the button to the appropriate floor, the doors open wide to reveal the carpeted corridor of the hotel room. You offer to hold the coffee tray in your unoccupied hand as Rosinante clumsily attempts to fish out his key-card from his pocket. He thanks you, his hand getting stuck in his pocket as he shimmies his shoulders to break it out. 
Finally clutching the key card, he places it in the door and swings it wide to reveal Law sitting on the plush bench beside the large window. His left knee was bent, his right leg extended as he reclined against the window. His gray orbs draw away from watching the gentle crash of waves towards you both as you enter the suite. 
Before you had a moment to greet the younger man, Rosinante’s broad grin and best nasally voice interrupted your train of thought. Rosinante gently took the brown paper bag from your hands and offered it to his son.
“Howzit goin’, Darl’! Brought you some Brekky from Maccas!” he walked forwards, thrusting the bag into Law’s hands, “Saw a bin chicken eating some scraps from the red skip, and passed a booze bus outside the servo on the way back.”
Law chose to remain silent, wordlessly taking the brown bag from Rosinante and maintaining unbreaking eye contact. Rosinante took that as his queue to continue relaying his adventure. 
“Saw Davo being a good fella at the park with his ankle biters, his missus has been working hard as an ambo driver,” he continued, biting his lip as he attempted to relay the trip back to his absolutely unamused son, “Then we passed a shop on the way up. Was gonna get us a pair of matching thongs for the trip, but thought you would get embarrassed to be matching with your Dad.” 
Law’s fingers stuttered their descent into the bag, choosing to take a lengthy breath instead. 
“Dad?” Rosinante quirked his head up, turning to look at you over his shoulder. You were doing your best to stifle your laughter by clutching your lip in your palm, “Do you still call parents ‘mum’ and ‘dad’ here? Is there an Aussie term of endearment he could use for me instead?” 
“‘Cunt’ comes to mind,” Law murmured, prompting Rosinante to snap his head back over to his son. His heart shattered as Law drew up a hashbrown and began nibbling at its golden exterior. 
“L-Law-?” Rosi’s heartbreak was depicted in the quiver in his tone. You walk over to your friend’s side and offer him his forgotten coffee with a smile.
“-Rosinante,” you broke him away from his sorrow with a soft giggle, “‘Cunt’ is also a term of endearment here. Law and I had a little conversation about cultural clashes last night when we were playing cards. You fell asleep early, remember?” 
“It is my favorite Australian term of endearment,” Law admitted with a soft hum, reaching up his outstretched hand to wordlessly ask for a coffee, “But your insults are far better. Quite original.” 
“Okay, Champ,” you mock Law, passing him his cup of coffee, “Big words coming from a guy with a face like a smashed crab.” 
“Coming from a Drongo with the personality of a dropped meat pie,” Law smirked in return, taking the cup from your hands. Your joint laughter ricocheted from the hotel walls, prompting Rosinante’s prior sour mood to pick back up. 
As you all ate your brekky in comfortable silence, you gazed out onto the beach below. Law followed your eyes, looping at the large swell of the waves. The choppy waves crashed against the golden waves, the vendors beginning to set up their canopies to sell their wares along the boardwalk. 
“You did well, Rosinante,” you complimented the tall, blonde man, “Using our words in the appropriate context, I mean.” Rosinante smiled at you, placing his paper rubbish in the brown paper bag.
“Thank you, Mate,” he said with a soft wink, “I appreciate the praise for my efforts.”
“No wakkas, makka,” you smile at him with a shrug. Both men quip their head up, their ears pricking and confusion written on their face. 
“We’ll get into that later, I guess,” you chuckle at the two of them as their confusion deepens.
The large Australian crowd began to take out their surf and boogie boards, set up nets for volleyball, and their wickets for beach cricket. The variety of populus below in various designs bathers, placing sunscreen on their bodies to protect from the deadly UV rays. 
“Beach day?” you ask them, smile drawing up over your features once more.
“Beach day,” Rosinante nods in confirmation, excited to learn more slang and cultural differences as the day broadens its rays over the oceanic backdrop. 
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