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#but on the other hand dear god why did it have to be *my* post

dairy-farmer · 1 day

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Okay but consider? Has Tim ever seen Ra's post-Critical Injury Lazurus Dip? Like not "oooh, I am back to my sexy Dilf-y glory~" but FULL ON "I have been Hard Reset back to the Prime Of My Life(tm), which statistically is early 20s, and am now a Young and Hot prowling bad boy. With no Grey in my hair and a SLIGHLTY higher voice, meaning while I sound familiar, you can't instantly place it like you usually could."

THAT sort of Hard Reset.

Bet he hasn't.

Bet he'd have an even HARDER time recognizing Ra's in a Masquerade mask. If Ra's had a smooth, freshly shaven, face. I mean... it's not like Ra's an assassin cult leader or anything. Him? Knowing how to DISGUISE himself? When in his centuries of life would he have had time to learn THAT?

So there Ra's is. Looking rich, dangerous, and slutty. As one does. Tight black pants, loose poet shirt, gold and gems dripping like honey down his skin. The very PICTURE of a WEALTHY young trouble maker. Blending in with all these wealthy fools, up too no good, some of them far more then others.

That's why the Bats are here.

For Intel.

But of COURSE, Brucie Wayne has aged out of this sort of scene. Tut tut. And his waste of a grandson is just a touch too young. A shame. So it's the Detective and a few others, leading the charge. But... ah, SUCH a big building! And can the Wayne's afford to be seen at such a disreputable event?

Of course not.

So they're in disguise. Layers upon layers, Detective. Masks upon masks. Delightful~

Ra's gets to watch Tim work the room. Prowl in magnificent heels. Dodge covetous hands so casually it seems by accident. Extract information people have DIED to protect. Blonde, tonight. He looks better with hair like the night.

Ra's smiles like a wolf.

And begins to hunt his prey though a sea of masks.

Which is how Tim meets a VERY rougish, tall, and delightfully muscled heir too...something. It's kinda obvious, given all the jewelry. Swordsmen too, from what he can feel of those INTERESTING and calloused hands. Tim knows he should focus... but...

Mystery Hot Guy is REALLY forward. Clearly in to him. And it's not like he's gotta marry the guy.

Did he mention the DELIGHTFUL rumble? His voice has a low rumbling quality to it, when he leans in close so he can be heard over the music. His hands are hot and gripping in that "just a bit too tight but not TOO too tight" sorta way? So yeah... he's gonna... uuuuh, go... "question so informants" real quick. Get back to you guys later!

Don't wait up!

And Ra's? Knows the chance of this working more then once is close to zero. So it has to be LEGENDARY. Life changing. Dick so good it ruins the Detective's LIFE. He's got to make sure the next time they meet, the Detective wants to kill him AND fuck him in equal measure.

After all, the Bats have a "no kill rule". Oh dear, Detective. Really only leaves you one option, then, doesn't it?

So Ra's goes to absolute TOWN on Tim. Sinks down to his knees and eats him out til his legs won't hold him. Carries him to the bed to the guestroom they're about to absolutely DEFILE, too use far too clever fingers, to stoke that burning NEED back up. Too stretch and tease, as his mouth worships that chest. That neck. That clever, clever mouth.

Runs his free hand along magnificent skin, wishes he could grip hair like the finest ink as he savors Timothy's mouth. It all feels decadent. Ra's is patient. Aaaand, there, Tim rocking against his hand has turned for lazy pleasure (savoring the glow of a good orgasm) to demanding.

His hands, his kisses, are growing hungrier. Commanding Ra's to give him what he needs. Spoil him like a pampered little prince. Either worship and adore him, or he will find someone else who SHALL. How can Ra's refuse? He'd be a fool too.

A fool not to suck and bite branding little marks upon that magnificent skin. A fool not to hike up those powerful hips a grind and tease with his length, until Timothy's sharp little nails dig into his flesh in warning. A gods forsaken incompetent, to NOT sink into that magnificent heat, pressed so close he can hear that breath taking little gasp of pleasure, as the thickness of himself presses wider and deeper then any BOY the Detective as ever taken.

Ra's AL Ghul is no fool.

But he IS a VERY giving lover.

Especially when he has something to gain from it. And oh, how it is a struggle not show the victory on his face. It would not do, to give the game away at the last moment. He knows better. So he moves his hips just so. Rolling at just the right angle. To grind with in as he thrusts, to grind against as he moves, his body angled just right to tease the Detective's clit.

Strong, calloused hands teasing what feels like EVERYWHERE. That deep rumbling voice monologing a god damned speech on how good Tim's body feels, how perfect he is, how sexy. That cock hitting everything over an over in a way marksmen would WEEP with jealousy at. Tim is pretty sure his brain is melting. Hook up too good, fuck why he came here actually. The others can handle it.

Will he later admit he fucked up? Probably. But that's when he gets the ability to reason again. Right NOW all he can think is a series of frantic porno noises and variations of the word "More". Turns out fumbling around with your teammates is NOT actually a good frame of reference for "what is Sex and how good does it feel?".

Tim doesn't even notice, two position changes and several orgasms later, when he loses his wig. His face is buried in Mystery Hook Up's shoulder, drooling and clinging, as he's worked up and down that mind melting cock like a toy. All that HE registers is that it feels nice to have that stuffy thing off and fingers running through his hair.

His family, though? Freaking out. Tim left with an "informant" (their ASS) and never showed back up. They've all HAD the traumatizing Honeypot Talk from Bruce. They KNOW Femme Fatales are a thing. Homme Fatales are a thing! Did someone send a sexy assassin after Tim!?

Soooooorta.

Dick, powered by the sheer force of Brotherly Murder-Panic and 👌close to showing the world why he and FUCKING DEATHSTROKE have a weird decade long "Thing(tm)" going, kicks down the door to waaaay too many random hook ups... until he eventually find the RIGHT hook up.

Where Timmy ain't got no bones. He be truely, magnificently, well fucked and boneless. A cooked noodle. Orgasm machine ran dry and he can see the shrimp color, Captain. He's cuddling a sex god and actively plotting to tattoo his phone number somewhere on this guy's body. Who CARES where he lives. Tim will MAKE it work. How you feel about breakfast?

Ra's is the exact flavour of Lounging Smug Bastard you imagine.

It's not even smirking "pleased with himself" territory anymore. It's full on "if a tiger were turned into a human, got revenge on the bastard who did it, and was lounging around feeling pleased with itself covered in blood" grinning. Because NOW, he has won.

Dick is, of course, going to break every bone in this Mystery Bastard's body. Jason. Hold him.

Which... just as Tim is about to throw a lamp in defense of his new Sex... something, Robin kicks the window open because "fuck it, I'm helping. Timothy may be an idiot. But he's OUR idiot and you've clearly seduced him with some sort of evil demonic sex magic, you fiend, time to fight." Etc etc.

Only then Hot Hook Up takes of his mask.

He.... He looks a LOT like Damian. A concerning amount. Like... if you were to say, take away the Wayne traits, he'd be almost identical.

Tim is ALSO not a fool.

That grin is very familiar. Those EYES are a shade he knows INCREDIBLY damn well. And oh sweet fuck on a stick he boned Ra's AL Ghul.

And it was amazing.

DAMN IT!!!

Does Tim absolutely HATE that Ra's was right? That Tim SHOULD consider sleeping with him? Yes. Is Tim going to do it again? According to the flashcard forcefully handed to him by his Father, ahem, "No. We do not sleep with Supervillians. We have self control." So... noooooooo, of course not. He would NEVER. Don't be absurd.

(Yes.)

-🐼🐼🐼

tim knows he shouldnt but also knows bruce has no moral highground to say 'dont sleep with supervillains 😭

#answered asks #asks #anonymous

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old-lorarri · 6 months

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꒰꒰ ‧₊˚𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐀 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 ─ 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒 ˚₊· ꒱꒱

─ summary . . . ❨ a missing royal and conspiracy with a duexmoi anon and the monaco annual gala reviling the new royal couple of the f1 world ❩ ─ pairing . . . ❨ lewis hamilton x fem! princess of the united kingdom! reader ❩ ─ genre . . . ❨ social media file ❩ ─ author note . . . ❨ remember there is a difference between inspiration and an exact copy and remember, if you are taking inspiration, please ask for permission and credit the author anyway with that out of the way enjoy! ❩

❨ taglist | masterlist ❩

WILLIAM Y/N, when are you going to come home and stop this silliness? It's been long enough You have made your point

Y/N The day that you learn to treat me like an adult and respect the choices that I make is the day I come back And if you are saying shit like this, then clearly You don't get the point I'm trying to make

WILLIAM Y/N I am trying to save you from heartbreak at the hands of this asshole Who I don't even know firstly And secondly, you are a princess. You have a duty to your country You can just get up and leave for some shitting athlete that knows basic English and knows how to write a stupid love letter

Y/N Okay William Firstly you don't need to know him you were never meant to read any of those letters. The only way you read them is cuz you went through my shit without my permission. Secondly, yes I do have a duty to my country but I also have a duty to myself and my happiness And if that happiness is an athlete who makes me feel like the only girl in the world, then so fucking be it

WILLIAM You know he probably does that to every pretty girl he meets Come home Y/N. He's not worth it

Y/N No. I'm happy where I am| And he is worth it

WILLIAM Stop acting like Mother This is irrational and dangerous Y/N Y/N? How did you even get out of the country? Secret service was on high alert Y/N answer me I know you are reading this so just respond Please? Read

duexmoi . 2hrs ago

seen by lewishamilton yourinstagram 34,231,879 others

MY BOO ❤️ Hey sweetheart Have you seen the duexmoi post?

MY SWEETHEART 🤍 Yeah just saw it now lol Why do you ask?

MY BOO ❤️ How do you feel about it being caught and all?

MY SWEETHEART 🤍 I mean I'm kinda surprised we didn't get found out sooner I mean they still don't know who you are so if you wanna break up with me now is the time to do so 😅

MY BOO ❤️ Sweetheart why would you say something like that? Do you want to break up?

MY SWEETHEART 🤍 No, I don't Lewis. These last few years have been the best of my life but you wouldn't be the first guy that I've been with that got scared at the thought of being public with me I'm a princess Lewis the media follows my every move and that scared a lot of the men I was with

MY BOO ❤️ Okay, baby I would never do that to you I don't care about what the media say I want you regardless Also, those guys you were with before weren't men they were little boys that didn't know how to treat a princess right

MY SWEETHEART 🤍 Why don't we go public.... I mean to avoid the press leaking our relationship Unless you wanna stay private till you feel ready

MY BOO ❤️ Sweetheart I was born ready How about the Monaco Gala? You can wear whatever you want Though I wouldn't be opposed to you wearing that new white dress...since it would go well with my suit 👀

MY SWEETHEART 🤍 Sounds like a plan Lewis out of all the dresses you want me to wear that one I haven't worn it before And knowing you it will end up ripped in half on the bedroom floor by the end of the night?

MY BOO ❤️ It's not my fault it makes you look like a goddess And anything that nice on you must be destroyed I don't make the rules love Don't worry I'll buy you another or 5 I that make you happy I love you 🤍

MY SWEETHEART 🤍 Please don't buy me 5 of the same dress 😭 I love you too ❤️

MY BOO ❤️ I'd do anything for you

MY SWEETHEART 🤍 As would I

WILLIAM LEWIS HAMILTON REALLY? Dear god Y/N didn't you meet him when you and dad went to that karting track when you were a kid? Weren't you talking to him at Windsor Castle when he got nighted? Oh lord do you know how many women that man has been with his dick is basically a door nob cuz everyone has had a turn Megan was the one that re-introduced you didn't she

Y/N Grow a brain William gandma Liz set us up and not Megan dumbass also if you want me to attend any royal events in future I will be brining Lewis with me as And if he is not allowed to attend then neither will I end of story William also if you ever disrespect him again I swear by all you hold dear you will live to regret it

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yourinstagram king of my heart

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─ inspired by . . .

@pucksandpower ─ this fic

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cybrsan · 4 months

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Miracle Of The Season — J.JK

STORY SUMMARY: Cast out of Heaven after a painful betrayal, you find yourself having to navigate the intricacies of human life without any guidance from the Creator or the family you have always known. Things only get worse as the holiday season reaches its peak, with reminders of the life you left behind everywhere you look. When a familiar face pops up, you aren’t sure whether to consider it a blessing or a curse.

PAIRING: Angel Jungkook x Fallen Angel F!Reader

RATING/GENRE: M ; angst, fluff, smut ; second chance romance, angel AU, soulmate AU

WORD COUNT: 17.2k

WARNINGS: Heavy themes of religious trauma, an initially negative view of Christianity transforming into a more neutral/respectful view of individual faiths, initial dismissal of other religions, difficult self-growth journey, homelessness, very brief mentions of murder and rape

OTHER/NSFW WARNINGS: Sharing one-bed trope (kinda), mistletoe trope (teehee), first time, fingering, cunnilingus, hand job, unprotected sex

A/N: This is a lot. The story definitely got away from me, but I think that's because there was so much I wanted to say. I definitely could have made this longer, and if I had time/wasn't such a slow writer, I probably would have. It's a heavy topic, but it's one that is near and dear to my heart and one that I think a lot of people can relate to. If you do, I hope this story feels a bit healing.

A/N 2: This is based on the vibes of his song "Standing Next To You" and the m/v for it.

LINKS: Part of the Jingle All The Way! collab with my talented, wonderful friends. Cross-posted on AO3 and (eventually) Wattpad. Banner made by the lovely @kithtaehyung.

"—let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!"

You take a deep, calming breath as you pass the carolers. Their cheerful voices grate on your nerves, but you keep your head down and continue walking. Lashing out at them won't do any good, even if it might give you a moment of satisfaction. It's not like they're the source of your irritation anyway; the crowded streets are abuzz with the unrelenting chaos of the Christmas season, and you have been on edge all morning.

Turning a corner, you enter a street closer to the shelter you have been calling home for the past year and a half. Immediately, some of your tension dissipates, and you feel like you can breathe a bit easier. There are fewer lights here and less noise, but a few decorations still attract your attention, like a moth to a flame. A nativity scene is proudly displayed in someone's window, and you stop dead in your tracks.

"Freedom of religion, my ass," you mutter bitterly as you tear your gaze away. Why does everyone and their mother seem to celebrate this stupid holiday?

You know that for many, Christmas isn’t necessarily a holy season. Some humans just use the holiday as an excuse to wear obnoxious sweaters, play the same song on repeat, and spoil one another with gifts. Yet reminders of the celestial realm, of the life you have been cast out from, are everywhere. The nativity, for one. Then there are the carolers singing their songs, and the cartoonish cherub decals that can be found on shop windows, holding banners that proclaim, “Buy one, get one 20% off!” Even the name of the holiday is marked by one of His monikers. Christmas.

It makes you sick.

The weather doesn't help, either. Drawing your coat more tightly around yourself, you try to ignore the relentless chill that settles deep in your bones. You’re definitely not dressed warmly enough, ill-prepared considering the sensation of being cold is something you’re still getting used to. It is yet another item you have added to your ever-growing list of "whys.” The question of why God created snow joins the ranks of "why did He make spiders?" and "why is He the most selfish being in existence?"

You sniff. Perhaps you let your emotions get the best of you at times.

Emotions. Another thing that’s somewhat new. As an angel, you didn’t really have those. The only thing you ever thought about was following orders and how better you could praise His name. Ugh. It’s hard to believe now that you were ever so single-minded. Though, towards the end, you suppose that wasn’t the case. It all went awry when you started this “list” of yours—when you started questioning things.

The moment that doubt had first crept into your mind seems like a lifetime ago. Reaching the status of archangel was something you had been working toward for millennia. It was a position that allowed you to work more closely with humanity; you were able to actually guide their paths and alter their destiny.

At first, it was everything you had ever wanted. The miracles that occurred because of your intervention made you feel like you were doing something worthwhile. But you quickly learned that not all of your missions would be quite as fulfilling.

You will never forget the first time you were put in charge of administering a holy test. The man had done nothing wrong, yet your higher-ups still insisted that he needed to be "tried by fire." The divine reasons were beyond comprehension, or so you were told. But watching the man suffer as everything he loved was taken from him, seeing the desperation and despair in his eyes… It felt wrong. That feeling stayed with you even as you watched the man's faith remain unbroken. Somehow, that made it worse.

And then there were those who committed sinful acts and escaped punishment. You saw murderers and rapists living their lives in peace while innocent souls suffered unjustly at their hands. The scales of justice seemed unfairly balanced, and you began to feel crushed by the weight of your guilt.

Thus, the degradation process began. For the longest time, you thought it was a myth, a scary story told to keep angels in line. If you doubt, if you disobey, you begin withering away into nothingness. You'll start to feel things, to lose your sense of purpose. It will be painful and overwhelming and, eventually, you'll cease to exist entirely. You were told that if it were to happen, you must report it to a superior at once. But you were terrified.

There was only one person you trusted enough to share the way you were feeling—your other half, your celestial counterpart. The one who knew you like no other did. Your Astrom, Jungkook.

There is an old celestial folk tale that documents the first creation of an Astrom pair. It is said God took one star and split it into two. Neither half could live without the other, nor would they want to. It is difficult to describe the way you felt for him, as angels are devoid of personal desires or emotions as humans experience them. It was simply as if being with him was as natural as breathing. He was the only being other than the Creator that you felt beholden to, that you admired.

When you first revealed your doubts to him, he simply listened, displaying a level of patience that you found comforting. He answered your questions about morality, about justice as best he could, trying to reassure you that everything happened for a reason. Yet no matter how persuasively he argued, your doubts wouldn't go away.

Eventually, you began to start contemplating letting yourself fall from grace. The thought was terrifying, but at the same time, there was a certain allure to it. To Fall meant to renounce your celestial responsibilities, and that included no longer having to inflict pain on innocent souls.

When you confessed this dangerous thought to him, Jungkook gave you a look that you couldn't decipher. All you remember is what he said next: "If you Fall, I shall Fall with you."

His words had been unexpected, and you didn’t know whether to take comfort in them or not. You didn’t want him to share your fate, to bear the burden of your guilt. Could you live with yourself if he Fell too? The answer was an obvious no. But the mere thought of being alone in your struggle was something you couldn’t stomach either. So, you attempted to keep your dissent to a minimum and perform your duties as required. But it wasn’t long before everything fell apart regardless.

Eventually, you were discovered and brought before the celestial court. You were accused of blasphemy since questioning Him was an unforgivable sin and sentenced to Fall, to be cast out from the life you have always known. Yet, the real blow came when you found out who had betrayed you.

Jungkook.

Your Astrom.

The one you had trusted implicitly, the other half of your celestial star, had betrayed you in the name of divine loyalty. The pain of the Fall, the feeling of your grace ripped from your body, the scorching burn of your wings as they turned to ash—none of this could compete with the raw, gut-wrenching anguish of his betrayal.

Even now, months later, remembering makes you feel as if you can't breathe, as if you might die. Every memory of him is like a punch to the gut, and the city, so full of noise and life, does nothing to drown out the agony. Some days, the pain is so vivid and unbearable that it feels as though you are Falling all over again.

A rough shove against your shoulder makes you stumble, and the man who ran into you barely grunts out an apology before continuing past. At least the disruption is a timely one, allowing you to pull yourself out of your thoughts before you spiral. There’s no point focusing on the past when there’s nothing you to do to change it, especially not when you have a myriad of new human concerns to deal with.

Your job hunt was, once again, unsuccessful. You keep telling yourself that it’s because it’s so close to the holidays and you’ll have a better chance once the new year comes. In reality, you’re sure it’s because you have no experience, no schooling, and no useful knowledge.

At least you’re familiar enough with the city now that zoning out didn’t prevent you from getting to your destination.

Lost Star Shelter.

The place you’ve been calling home. It’s certainly not perfect, but little on Earth ever is. You feel awful stepping past the crowd of people waiting outside its doors, knowing that they, like you, have nowhere else to go. You've been fortunate enough to secure your spot due to your volunteering efforts and the fact that the manager, Naomi, seems to have taken a liking to you. But not everyone is so lucky.

You step inside, greeted by the familiar smells of disinfectant and something cooking in the kitchen. The place is buzzing with activity as usual—mothers trying to soothe crying children, elderly folks chatting away in groups, and a few lone souls quietly scrawling job applications.

"Long day?" Naomi catches your gaze from behind the front desk, her warm smile a stark contrast to the weariness etched in the lines of her face.

"Isn't it always?" You head over and pick up the clipboard she slides toward you, scanning your list of tasks for the day. As expected, it's long hours of mindless labor, but you don't mind. Not only do you need to earn your place here, but volunteering gives you a sense of purpose similar to your previous heavenly duties. And you have the satisfaction of knowing you're actually helping, not harming.

"First on the list," Naomi points to an item at the top of your clipboard, "is the donations room. We just had a big drop-off and could use some extra hands sorting through it all. But grab some dinner before you start, okay?"

You nod, her straightforward nature getting a slight smile out of you. "Yes, ma'am."

You navigate your way towards the crowded dining area, where a line of people has formed, waiting for their turn to get served. The cooks, all volunteers like yourself, are bustling about, serving portions of the day's meal which looks to be a thick stew accompanied by fresh bread. The food is simple but hearty, more than enough to keep you working through the evening. You make a mental note to slip into the kitchen later and thank them for their hard work.

You find an empty seat at one of the long tables that occupy the space, making yourself at home amongst the people who are engrossing themselves in their meals or with idle chatter. You even join in on a conversation with some older women across the table, who are engaged in a spirited debate about soap operas. Your knowledge of pop culture is sparse at best, but they seem delighted to fill you in on the latest drama, their laughter infectious.

After your meal, you make your way towards the donations room. The sight of piled-up clothes, toys, blankets, and other items is both overwhelming and heartwarming. Naomi wasn't kidding when she said they'd received a large drop-off. It's a daunting task, but you roll up your sleeves and get to work. You start by sorting through the clutter, meticulously separating everything into various categories—men's clothes, women's clothes, children's clothes, etc., and items that need repairs or cleaning. Hours pass by unnoticed, the rhythm of work almost meditative.

Your thoughts inevitably wander back to Jungkook. A pang of longing shoots through you. He was the one who would always be by your side when you had to perform menial tasks like this in the celestial realm. You wonder what he would think of your new life. Does he look down on you from up high with pity or disdain, or does he simply not think of you at all? You aren't sure if you even want to know the answer.

As time wears on, the room gradually becomes less cluttered and more organized. You're just about to take a break when Naomi appears at the doorway, her aging features softened by the warm glow of the hallway light behind her. She takes in your progress with an approving nod.

"You've done well," she says, stepping into the room.

You can't help but feel a sense of pride at her words. "Thank you, Naomi."

She strolls around the room, her observant gaze sweeping over the sorted piles, her hands touching a few items here and there.

"It's amazing," she finally says, "how much kindness there is out there, even when it seems like everything is falling apart. No matter how rough things get, we can choose to be generous, choose to help others. That's what makes us human."

Her words resonate with you. You’ve seen the worst and best of humanity firsthand; the same species that wages wars also unite in times of crisis, offering support and showing kindness to total strangers. How much is influenced by higher powers and how much is purely human nature, you wouldn't presume to know. Your very existence has blurred the lines between supernatural influence and mortal will.

"True," you say, looking up at Naomi from where you're still seated on the floor surrounded by donations. "That’s a nice way to look at things."

Naomi's smile broadens at that, and she gives one last cursory glance around the room before saying, "Well, I'll let you get back to work. Don't stay up too late."

"Goodnight, Naomi," you call after her as she steps out into the hallway, half-waving at you as she goes.

A little over an hour later, you step back to admire your work. Each item has been categorized, ready to be cleaned and redistributed. You move on to your next set of responsibilities: cleaning up the common areas and helping close up for the night.

The smell of cleaning supplies clings to your skin as you make your way back to your sleeping quarters—a small, shared room filled with single beds. Careful not to disturb anyone, you move towards your assigned bed, its familiar creaks and groans echoing softly under your weight as you settle into it. Exhaustion pulls at your muscles, but you need to wash up and change before you sleep.

You grab your shower caddy, change of clothes, and quietly make your way to the women’s bathroom. The fluorescent white lights flicker to life as you enter, revealing a row of curtained shower cubicles. You choose one at the end and let the water heat up as you undress. The hot water cascades over your tired body, soothing your muscles and washing away the sweat and grime that has built up throughout the day.

Shower done and teeth brushed, you pull on fresh clothes and make your way back to your bed. As you settle back down under the covers, you notice something strange on your bedsheet. A crisp scorch mark is visible against the fabric, and when you observe it more closely, you're shocked to realize that the shape almost looks like… fingers? Your heart hammers in your chest.

"Impossible," you whisper to yourself.

The sight of these burns is not unfamiliar to you; in fact, you have been the cause of such marks before. It is a common occurrence when celestial beings interact with the mortal world—remnants of their powerful energy left behind. But as you stare at them now, a sense of unease creeps over you. Could it be Jungkook? The thought flickers through your mind, but you quickly brush it aside. Why would he make himself known in this way and then vanish without even seeing you? You can't allow yourself to hope.

Dismissing the thought, you force yourself to rationalize that it must have been an accident. Perhaps someone burned it while it was being ironed. It’s easy enough to convince yourself; after all, it’s only three and a half slender marks—it could be anything. But the unease remains as you lay down on the bed, your mind filled with questions. You eventually succumb to sleep from sheer exhaustion, your dreams filled with memories of Jungkook.

The next day passes in a blur—the usual routine of job applications, food preparation, and cleaning duties. The burn mark on your bedsheet remains a mystery. You track down the volunteer who did the laundry, and she swears she wouldn't be so careless as to burn someone’s belongings. Despite her assurances, it's the only explanation you are willing to believe. You return to your bed to find that the sheet has been replaced with a fresh one, the burn mark gone as if it never existed.

You spot an older man sitting on a bed in the corner; his mouth moves silently, and the rosary beads dangling from his fingers lead you to believe he’s praying. A small, faux Christmas tree, no larger than a water bottle, stands on a box next to him. The sight stirs something with you, an uncomfortable feeling once again settling in your gut. You don’t understand his faith. How can someone continue to pray to a God that has obviously forsaken him?

You wait until the man finishes and safely tucks the rosary beads into his shirt pocket, right above his heart, before you approach.

“Excuse me?”

He looks up at you with a smile, eyes crinkling around the edges. "What can I help you with, dear?"

"I noticed you praying," you begin tentatively. Despite your personal qualms with religion, you don’t want to seem as if you are disrespecting him or his beliefs. "I hope you don't mind my asking, but how do you keep your faith? Under these circumstances?"

He doesn't seem bothered at all by your blunt question. Instead, he chuckles softly and pats the bed beside him, inviting you to sit down. You hesitate a moment before complying.

"Faith isn't about having all the answers," he starts, his voice a mere whisper in the quiet room. "It isn't about being rewarded for good deeds or punished for bad ones. It's about hope. It's about believing that things will get better."

“Hope? Still? Despite… despite being here? I mean, aren’t you upset with God?” Your voice is barely above a whisper as well, a mixture of curiosity and frustration seeping into your words.

He remains silent for a while, his gaze wandering towards the small Christmas tree on the box beside him.

"No, I'm not upset with God," he finally replies. "Man is given free will, and it is man who chooses what to do with it. Crisis, poverty… God didn't create these. They're the consequences of human choices." His words are sincere, spoken with a calmness that only comes from years of contemplation. "God doesn't promise us that life will always be easy or free from hardships. But He does promise that He will be there in those times of trouble. You see, faith isn't about expecting God to fix our problems, but about having the strength to face them."

“I envy your strength,” you admit with a hint of admiration in your voice.

“Strength is born from struggle, dear. You’ll find your way soon enough.”

“I hope you’re right.”

The conversation lingers in your mind long after the man's words have faded into silence. You sit on your bunk, staring at the ceiling, pondering them. His unshakable faith is both alien and inspiring to you. Even when you were an archangel, before any doubts seeped into your mind, your faith was nothing like his. It was a duty, an obligation, a resolute certainty that was less about personal beliefs and more about the world you were born into.

His mention of hope sticks out to you the most. You look around the room again, taking note of the different symbols of faith scattered across the room—crosses, menorahs, and even a small prayer mat in one corner. Each person in this room believes in something larger than themselves, something that gives them hope. And you? You're not certain what you believe in anymore. But maybe, just maybe, some of your anger has been misplaced.

As the daylight fades, you find yourself wandering outside, the crisp evening air bringing a kind of comfort you couldn't find inside. You walk aimlessly, your feet following the now-familiar sidewalks. You end up in a park, and you make a seat for yourself on a deserted bench.

Looking up into the sky, now painted with hues of orange and pink, you let yourself miss Heaven for just a minute. To miss Jungkook. Even the Creator. You can never go back to worshipping Him, nor do you want to, but you can't deny the connection that once was. As much as you wish everything never happened, you are grateful for how much you've grown since.

Suddenly, you’re disoriented by a bright flash of light and a shrill, piercing sound that makes your entire body jolt. You shut your eyes and cover your ears, but it does nothing to dull the pain. It's as if the noise is coming from inside your mind. You half-crawl, half-fall off the bench, curling in on yourself, unable to think anything, do anything, until it finally comes to a stop.

The world pauses around you; the birds stop chirping, the wind stops blowing, and people are frozen where they walk. A familiar feeling washes over you, and your breath catches in your throat. You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes. Even in this form, even as a human, his presence calls to your very soul. You hadn’t realized how incomplete you felt, how empty you were, without him by your side. He’s your other half, and he always will be. The realization makes you want to cry. You had hoped after the Fall, after you became human, that would cease to be true. You can’t stand the fact that you’re still irrevocably tied to him, even after all that he’s done. As always, fate is cruel.

“Y/N.”

He speaks your name with a quiet reverence as if he can hardly believe you’re there in front of him. The familiar, honeyed tone of his voice reignites your longing for him with full force, but you still stubbornly keep your eyes closed. You can’t look at him. You aren’t strong enough.

“I cannot believe you are alive.”

What?

His statement shocks you enough that your eyes fly open of their own accord, and for the first time in months, you're met with the sight of Jungkook. You're not sure if you perceive him differently now that you are mortal, but he's even more captivating than you remember.

His dark hair curls softly atop his head and is tousled ever-so-perfectly. His skin is beautifully tanned, and the way his tall figure is silhouetted against the sun makes it seem like he's glowing. His wings are obsidian, gargantuan in size, seemingly consuming the entire park with their reach. He's magnificent, so beautiful it hurts.

But it is his eyes that have you frozen in your spot—those beautiful, brown doe eyes, filled with so much emotion that it takes your breath away. He's not supposed to be able to feel unless… unless he has begun the degradation process, as you had.

“Y/N,” he repeats, his voice trembling. "I thought you were dead."

“I don't understand,” you manage to choke out, trying to sound more composed than you feel. You pull yourself to your feet, grimacing at the pain radiating throughout your body. How much of it is physical and how much is emotional, you can't tell.

He takes a step closer to you, his hands outstretched as if to ensure that you're real, but you recoil instinctively. He flinches at your reaction but still grabs your arms, grip unrelenting even as you attempt to pull away from him.

“Protective markings have been burned onto your ribs.” Hurt flashes across his features. “Were you hiding from me?”

“What? No.” You manage to break free and back up a few steps, putting some distance between you. You feel exposed and vulnerable under his gaze, remembering how he always seemed to know what you were thinking even before you did. "I didn't even know I had them."

"I need you to explain everything," he demands.

“You need me to explain?" You scoff and cross your arms over your chest defensively. "What about you?”

“Me?” He tilts his head slightly, his confusion obvious.

“Yes, you!" You take a step closer, anger simmering just beneath the surface. "After all, you’re how I ended up in this situation, right?”

“What are you talking about?”

"You betrayed me!" you hiss. “I confided in you, and you told me you understood. That you were with me. And then you turned around and proclaimed me a blasphemer!”

He doesn’t respond right away, and it’s as if you can see the cogs turning in his head as he pieces things together. “Y/N… I would never.”

His admittance makes you pause. Angels aren’t supposed to lie, though you know not everyone abides by that law. However, Jungkook has always been one of the most dedicated to the commandments.

“That’s not what Namsu told me.”

“Namsu? The Throne?”

“Yes, the Throne. The one who exiled me on the orders of up high.”

His eyebrows furrow. “You… were exiled? You did not wither?”

"Wither?" you scoff. "That's a myth, Jungkook. A cover-up to hide the fact that when angels start to stand up for what they think is right, they get cast out. And it's thanks to you that I'm here now."

"I… no." The intensity behind the word takes you aback. "I just wanted to help you; I thought you were sick. I went to one of the Cherubim for guidance—I would have never turned you in for some kind of punishment."

His words hang in the air, making your heart pound in your chest. He was trying to help you? The thought sends a flurry of conflicting emotions through you.

"Help me?" You repeat his words, mocking him in your disbelief. "Your way of helping got me exiled! Cast down and made mortal."

"I did not—" He cuts himself off, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I never meant for any of this to happen."

"Yet it did!" you snap, crossing your arms tightly around yourself as if they could somehow shield you from the pain his presence brings. "And now I'm here, and nothing will ever be the same!"

"I am so sorry." His apology is whispered so softly that you almost don't catch it. But you do, and it hits you like a punch in the gut.

Your head feels as if it's about to implode. He didn't purposefully betray you—in fact, he was trying to save you. But even so, his actions have led to your downfall, and now you're stuck here on earth, far from the light of Heaven, vulnerable and mortal, while he remains immortal and untouchable. Perhaps that's the part that hurts the most. The fact that now you are separated not by betrayal but by the very nature of your beings.

Your voice cracks as tears fill your eyes. "If all this is true, then why wouldn’t you have looked for me?”

“I looked everywhere at first, but I could not sense you anymore.” If it was possible, you think he would be crying too. “Namsu is the one who told me what happened. He said that you… that your doubt consumed you, and you did not survive.”

The information hits you like a ton of bricks. Your knees almost give out for a second time, but Jungkook reaches out and grabs you by the elbows, steadying you.

"I… I had no idea." A bitter laugh escapes your lips as you look up at him. "You didn't know anything, and I presumed the worst of you."

His fingers tighten around your arms in a reassuring squeeze. "We can always start over, Y/N."

"Start over?" you echo, incredulous. "You make it sound so easy."

"And why would it not be? We were not the ones to blame for our separation. Come back with me."

"I'm human now. The only way I can come back is… is if I'm dead."

His grip loosens, his face paling at your words. "I did not mean to suggest… Of course, I do not want you to die," he hastily corrects himself, glancing down at the ground. His wings flutter uneasily behind him, betraying his discomfort. "There must be another way."

"If there was, would it even be safe? I mean, why would Namsu do this?" you ask, staring at him. You're not sure if you're asking him or simply musing aloud. Even so, the question hangs heavily in the silence between you.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Jungkook speaks again. His voice is barely above a whisper when he says, "I wish I had the answers you seek, but I don't. All I know is that I will do everything in my power to rectify this situation." He turns away from you, scanning the horizon as if searching for something. "I need to return and confront Namsu. He must account for his actions."

"No, it's too dangerous. What if he forces you to Fall, too? You can't risk it, Jungkook."

He looks back at you, his expression hardening. "I will not let him get away with this, Y/N," he says resolutely. "Deception is not a virtue of a Throne, especially not in such grave matters."

"And you won't let him, but you need to go about this carefully. Going to him directly won't work—he's too powerful."

Jungkook tilts his head, regarding you skeptically. "It almost sounds as if you are asking me to be deceitful."

"Not deceitful, just… stealthy?"

He doesn’t respond immediately, his brow furrowed as he mulls over your words. After a moment, he exhales slowly, pulling back from you to pace the grass in thought. "Stealthy," he repeats slowly, his voice distant. "That would require careful planning. Secret meetings. Misdirection."

"Yes," you agree, watching him closely. "All of that."

He stops suddenly, turning to look at you. "Very well. I will do whatever it takes to get to the bottom of this."

Your chest tightens, and you gnaw at your bottom lip. His resolve both comforts and worries you. You don't want him to risk himself for you, but part of you is happy that he is willing.

"However,” Jungkook breaks your train of thought. "It sounds like I may need to be a little bit more human to pull this off. After all, none of this comes easily to angels, but mortals lie all the time."

You raise an eyebrow. "And how are you going to achieve that?"

"You will have to teach me, of course." He says this as if doing so will be the easiest thing in the world. “The degradation process has already started for me, as I am sure you are aware. It should be easy.”

"You're serious?"

Jungkook had always been so straight-laced, the epitome of angelic perfection. The idea of him playing at being human is almost laughable.

"Completely," he responds, his intense gaze never wavering. "I am willing to do whatever it takes to bring Namsu to justice and try to fix this. Fix us. If that requires adopting some mortal habits, then so be it."

"Alright," you finally concede, shaking your head in amusement. "Time for a crash course in 'how to be a human' 101."

He smiles faintly at that, the corners of his mouth tipping upwards just so. It's a small thing, barely noticeable amidst the tension still hanging heavily in the air between you two, but it's enough. Enough to remind you that the way you felt about him in Heaven, despite not being able to feel, was some kind of love. You don't know where that leaves you now or what you're going to do about it, but procrastination is another human skill you have come to love. Maybe you'll teach him that eventually.

"Lesson one," you start, pointing a finger at him in mock sternness. "Humans don't always speak so formally or in such grandiose phrases. ‘I am going to bring Namsu to justice' sounds archaic or like something a two-bit superhero would say."

His lips quirk upward into a more genuine smile this time. "I see," he replies, his voice deliberately casual. "So how would a human say it?"

"Well, for starters, you could use slang," you suggest.

Jungkook’s brows furrow, an almost comical look of concentration on his face. “Slang,” he repeats, testing the word on his tongue.

“Yes, slang. Humans don’t always pronounce every single word, and they often come up with new, shorter words to replace certain phrases. You could say something like, 'Namsu’s gonna get what he deserves.'”

He nods, repeating your words slowly. “Namsu... is going to get what he deserves.”

You burst out laughing at his attempt. The prim, stoic angel fumbling his way through human speech? It is truly a sight to behold.

"Laughing at my expense?" He feigns hurt, but there's a playful twinkle in his eyes that gives him away. "I guess that's lesson two then: humans are full of mirth and mockery."

"You're catching on quickly," you reply, still giggling slightly. “And yes, we like to laugh.”

He observes you a moment longer before finally allowing a soft chuckle to escape his lips. It's a deep, rich sound, but it feels tentative like he's not quite sure if he's doing it right.

“Laughing…" he murmurs, puzzling over the concept. “Such a peculiar expression of joy. But I like it."

"As you should," you reply, a grin still playing across your face. "It's one of the best parts about being human."

Jungkook studies you for a moment, a smile tugging at his lips. "It suits you."

"Hm? What does?"

"Being human."

"I’m not sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult.”

"There is a certain spontaneity in humans. A vibrancy that angels lack." Jungkook’s gaze intensifies, his voice lowering to almost a whisper as he steps closer. "It makes you shine more brightly. Like the sun."

He's so close to you now that you can make out the subtle flecks of gold in his eyes. Your heart pounds in your chest as his words wash over you, warming you from the inside out.

"That—" You clear your throat, trying to steady your shaking voice. "That sounds like a compliment."

"It is," he confirms, his gaze flickering down to your lips for a brief second before rising back to meet your eyes. "But it is also an observation. A fact."

You want to kiss him. The thought shocks you—you've never kissed someone before, let alone wanted to. It must be a human impulse. You can't help but imagine what it might feel like, the warmth of his lips against yours, his skin beneath your fingertips. You want to feel his hand on your cheek, his fingers tangling in your hair. But the danger of your respective positions impedes that thought, and you push it down. He's an angel. You're not. Him being your Astrom, the connection you had before your Fall, none of it matters now.

"Okay," you manage to squeak out, trying to ignore the electricity that seems to be sparking between your too-close bodies. "Human lesson number three: we're big on personal space."

"Oh?" Jungkook raises an eyebrow but doesn't step away. "Is this too close?"

You swallow hard. "A bit."

You swear you see a hint of mischievousness cross his features before he complies, stepping back just enough to leave a sliver of space between you. "Better?"

"Now you're just teasing me," you retort, though there's a soft smile playing on your lips.

"Is that frowned upon?"

"No," you admit. "In fact, it's quite human of you. Now, it’s time for a real challenge." He looks at you quizzically. "We have to convince Naomi to let you stay at the shelter."

"Ah," he nods, understanding dawning on him. "I see. Another part of being human—negotiation."

"Exactly."

"Then lead the way." With a snap of his fingers, time resumes for the two of you and his wings have disappeared, making him appear fully human, and you head back to Lost Star.

"Naomi, please," you beg, giving your boss the best puppy eyes you can muster. "He needs a place to stay."

Naomi crosses her arms over her chest and drags her gaze over Jungkook in a way that suggests she's scrutinizing every cell of his being, from the top of his head down to the tips of his toes. "There's no extra beds, hun. I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do."

"Then he can stay with me!"

"You and him, sharing that tiny little twin bed?" She scoffs. "I'd like to see you try."

"We'll make it work!"

"It's still against the rules. One body to one bed."

"I know it's not ideal, but just for a few days until we figure out something else," you urge her. "I wouldn't be asking you this if it wasn't important."

Jungkook steps forward, interjecting smoothly, "I will respect the rules, and if you feel my presence is harmful or disruptive in any way, I will leave immediately."

Naomi looks between you and Jungkook, and then she sighs, throwing her hands up in defeat.

"Fine, but only for a little while. And you can't sleep in the main room. Take my office—the couch is a pull-out."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You pull her into a hug that she returns with a loving exasperation.

"If there's even a whiff of trouble, both of you are gone, understand?"

"Yes, ma'am! I wouldn't expect anything less."

You grab Jungkook’s hand, dragging him along behind you as you lead him through the shelter. You pass through some of the busier living areas, and it's as if everyone can’t help but stare at him. You can only assume that, despite his wings being hidden, he still emits some sort of otherworldly aura that draws people in. Plus, by human standards, you suppose he's quite attractive.

Jungkook seems unbothered by the attention, too focused on his surroundings and curiously taking in every detail.

"All these people live here?" he asks, incredulous. "This place is quite small."

"Shh! Lesson four: lower your voice when you're talking about other people. The last thing we need is for someone to overhear and think you're judging them."

"Apologies," Jungkook replies, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But my previous comment was not meant to be judgmental. I’m just… surprised. I thought humans usually lived in family units, but everyone here doesn't seem to be related."

I’m. Doesn’t. He’s already using contractions—you must either be a good teacher or he’s a quick learner.

"You're right," you agree, and as you glance around, your heart aches a little. "Not everyone is fortunate enough to have that. This place is for those who have lost their families or homes."

"Lost their homes? Like in a fire?"

"Sometimes. Or maybe they didn't have enough money to pay their taxes."

"I don't understand. Are there not enough homes for everyone? Why do you need to pay for such a basic need?"

You pause, the innocence of his question hitting you surprisingly hard. Of course he wouldn't understand the complexities of human society, of money and social class, of poverty and wealth disparity. You didn't either; at least, not until you Fell and were forced to figure it out.

"That is a complicated issue," you admit, running a hand through your hair. "And not all humans agree on how to solve it. Some people think everyone should have a home, regardless of whether or not they can pay for it. Others think that if you can't afford it, you don't deserve one."

He looks so confused that you would be tempted to laugh if the tone of the conversation wasn't so serious. "That doesn't seem fair. In heaven, everyone has a place."

"Yes, well, Earth isn't heaven." There's a bitterness to your words that you hadn't intended. "And why our Creator chooses to leave things like this is a mystery to me. I mean, why not use some of His power to help?"

"The ways of the Almighty are impossible for us to understand," Jungkook quietly replies. "And it's not for us to question."

You snort in response, crossing your arms over your chest. "Well, aren't you a dutiful little angel?"

Jungkook frowns, clearly not understanding your sarcasm. You sigh and shake your head.

"I'm sorry, Jungkook. It's just hard to wrap my head around sometimes. It's why my so-called degradation process started in the first place. Look at them—" You gesture to the people huddled together around the small television in the corner of the room, others sharing a meal or helping to care for the younger children. "They're good people. Why do they deserve to suffer?"

Silence lingers between you for a moment. When he responds, he doesn’t answer your question. “Their heavenly rewards shall be plentiful as long as they keep to their faith.”

“Does that make all of this okay?" You scoff. "Why are they being tested like this? In fact, why do they even need to believe at all to be given a home in the celestial realm? If a person is good-hearted, why isn’t that enough?”

Jungkook looks away from you. "I don't like these questions."

“You don’t like them? Or you don’t like how uncomfortable they make you feel?”

Before he can even bother replying, you let go of his hand and open the door to Naomi's office, hurrying inside, eager to get some space. It's small and cramped, filled with stacks of paper, an old wooden desk strewn with an old computer and various office supplies, and a well-worn couch wedged against the wall.

"It's not much," you say. "But it's home for now, I guess."

"Home," Jungkook repeats softly, eyes scanning the room. He zeroes in the billboard behind Naomi's desk, filled with photos of smiling people, letters from those that she has helped. A smile tugs at his lips. "It's nice."

"You say that now. Just wait until you're trying to sleep and a couch spring is digging into your back."

"I don't actually need to sleep," he reminds you.

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "Right, I forgot. At least we won't be fighting for the blanket."

"I can pretend to," Jungkook offers, a spark of amusement in his eyes. "The idea of laying next to you is not unwelcome."

You blush, taken aback. "W-what… you…" You take a deep breath. "No, that won't be necessary. And lesson five: don't flirt with people unless you mean it."

"What is 'flirt’?”

"Flirting," you explain, trying to keep your blush under control, "is when people say or do things that suggest they're attracted to each other."

"I see." He pauses for just a moment before asking, "And how do I know if I'm attracted to someone?"

You sigh exasperatedly. Who knew teaching an angel to be human could be so tiring?

"It's… well, it's kind of hard to explain. Especially because, as an angel, you don't really feel, at least not until the degradation process is nearing its end. But basically, it's like you have an inexplicable urge to be around this person a lot. You think about them often, their happiness makes you happy, and you want to be closer to them, maybe even touch them or hold them. Some people also might feel their heart beat faster, or a fluttering in their stomach."

As you speak, Jungkook’s eyes never leave yours. They gleam with curiosity and understanding, drinking in every word you say. He seems to be processing the concept, and then he suddenly smiles. "So, like how I feel about you."

Caught off-guard, you blink at him, speechless for a moment. And then the panic seeps in.

"No, Jungkook, that's not correct," you insist, your words tumbling out in haste and denial. "You can't… we can't… you're an angel. I'm—" Fallen, you want to say. Human, you need to say. But you don't.

"Why not?" he asks simply, his gaze steady.

"Because!" You scramble for an explanation, desperate to avoid the truth of your own feelings stirring within you. "Because angels aren't supposed to feel that way."

"But I am no longer a pure angel," Jungkook counters. "The degradation process has begun. We discussed this already."

"But that doesn't matter! The whole reason we are doing this is so you can learn the skills you need to figure out a way to stop Namsu from forcing anyone else to Fall. Once you do, you'll be able to stay in Heaven because withering isn't real." Before he can say anything else, you open the door. "I'm gonna grab my stuff from my bed. I'll… I'll be back in a second."

You slam the door behind you, leaving Jungkook alone in the room. It's a struggle to keep your composure as you head towards your bed. All you can think of is his words, the nonchalance with which he said them. You can feel your traitorous heart yearning for him, but you can't let it sway you. Whether it was an accident or not, his betrayal led to your Fall. Led to you being human. And he's an angel. No matter what you feel or what he thinks he feels, nothing can happen between you now.

As you gather your meager belongings, the man you spoke with earlier approaches you with a sympathetic expression. "You alright, dear? You didn't get evicted, did you? I'll give Naomi a piece of mind if that's the case."

"No, no," you quickly reassure him with a forced smile. "My… my friend needs a place to stay for awhile, and there's a one body to one bed policy. Naomi was kind enough to let us use the couch in her office for a few days until we figure something else out."

"Your friend, hm?" His eyes twinkle mischievously. "That fellow you walked in with? Can't say I blame you. He's quite a looker."

"It's not like that," you blush, hurriedly stuffing the rest of your belongings into your bag. "Anyway, don't worry. You'll still see me around."

The man grins and gives you a friendly pat on the shoulder. "I'm glad to hear it. This place would be much drearier without you."

You bid him goodbye with a wave and make your way back to Naomi's office, feeling like you're walking towards the edge of a cliff. As you open the door, you find Jungkook staring out the window. The streetlight spills in through the gap in the curtains, bathing him in a soft glow. He turns as you enter.

"Gathered your belongings?" he asks, his voice calm as if the previous conversation never happened. For a moment, you feel robbed—does he not understand the gravity of what he said? But you suppose it's better this way. Easier, at least.

"Yes," you respond, a bit more brusquely than intended, setting your bag down on the floor. He's still staring at you, and you flush under his gaze. "I'm just going to set up the couch. And stop staring at me so intently. Humans get nervous about stuff like that."

"Another lesson," he remarks. "Understood." Jungkook watches you for a moment longer, then turns back to the window without a word.

You get to work, unfolding the couch and covering it with your bedding. The silence between you is thick; you can feel the tension radiating off of Jungkook despite his apparent calm. Your heart pounds in your ears as you busy yourself with smoothing out some wrinkles in the sheets, a futile distraction.

With a deep breath, you break the silence. "Alright, I'm done."

Jungkook turns to look, and his eyes scan the makeshift bed you've prepared. "You've made it look inviting."

"Should be okay for a few nights," you reply curtly, avoiding his gaze. "I'm, uh, gonna go ready for bed. I know you don't sleep, but feel free to sit at her desk or something. Make yourself comfortable."

You exit the room and head down the hallway to the bathroom, leaving Jungkook alone with his thoughts. You can’t shake off his confession and your own rush to deny him. The truth of your feelings, or rather the depth of them, is something you aren't ready to face.

After getting ready for bed, you hesitantly return to Naomi's office. The door creaks upon opening, and Jungkook turns from where he's seated at Naomi's desk, looking up at you with his intense gaze.

"Goodnight," you say softly, trying not to let your voice betray how uneasy you feel.

Jungkook nods. "Goodnight," he replies, and his voice is gentle, concerned. You feel a pang of guilt at the distance you've created between the two of you but say nothing more, falling into a fitful sleep.

Sometime during the night, Jungkook figured out how to work Naomi's dinosaur of a computer and discovered the wonderful thing that is the internet. When you wake, he flocks to your side like an excited child, eager to share everything he has learned about humans, their emotions, and their behavior.

"Slow down, Jungkook," you chuckle, holding up a hand to halt his barrage of words. "I can't absorb all of that at once."

"Oh," he says, blinking in surprise. "I forget that human minds process information more slowly. Should I take this as another lesson?"

You shrug, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Sure, go for it."

Despite the tension last night and everything unsaid between the two of you, you find yourself falling into an easy rhythm with him. He's eager to learn and keen on understanding humanity—your humanity. Throughout the day, he continues his studies, glued to the computer screen as you complete your daily volunteering. He takes breaks every once in a while to come find you and ask questions.

"I've come across some terms that are perplexing," he says, leaning on the front desk as you catalog some information. "'Memes' and 'emojis' appear prominently in human interactions online, but I don’t really know what they are or how they’re used.”

You answer question after question until you realize you aren’t getting work done, so you have to come up with a plan B. Leading him back to Naomi’s office, you pull up Netflix on the computer. Jungkook watches the screen in fascination as you explain streaming and scroll through all the shows.

"Let's try Friends," you say, clicking on the thumbnail.

You leave him to watch as you finish up your tasks for the day, checking occasionally to see that he’s still engrossed in the show. Instead of constantly badgering you with questions, he writes them on a notepad you provided and waits until the end of the day to go over them with you. You answer each one as best you can, completely endeared by him.

It's during one of the show's more depressing moments that he asks you about lying and betrayal, echoing the heavy undertones from the other day. His question takes you by surprise, his gaze focused intensely on your face as he waits for an answer.

"Lying is a tough one," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "Sometimes it's out of fear or selfishness. Sometimes people lie because they're trying to protect themselves."

"And betrayal?" Jungkook asks, his voice unnaturally calm.

You sigh, looking down at your hands. "Betrayal… it's when someone breaks your trust. It hurts, Jungkook. It hurts a lot."

He watches you for several long moments before finally speaking again. "I see," he says softly. "And that's what you thought I did to you?"

You swallow hard, feeling the knot in your chest tighten. "Jungkook," you start, but falter, not knowing how to put your feelings into words.

"I did not mean to betray you," Jungkook continues. "I realize that my actions may have led you to believe that I deceived you, but it was not my intention. I'm sorry."

"I know." You believe him completely, but the wound is still so fresh that you can’t bring yourself to fully trust him again. Not yet. "I know you didn't mean to, but an apology doesn't fix everything. Consider it another lesson—trust, once broken, isn't so easily mended."

Jungkook plays with the skin around his nails, an anxious habit he seems to be developing the more human-like he becomes. After a moment, he says, "I understand. I will try harder."

"Try harder doing what?"

"To understand you better. To understand all humans more, their emotions and their beliefs. Maybe understanding what trust really is will teach me how to earn it back and make up for my mistakes." He's so earnest, so genuine, it almost brings tears to your eyes. "I think I want this as much as I want Namsu to answer for his crimes, if not more. And maybe that makes little sense, but maybe… maybe that's quite human of me."

"And maybe that's progress," you say softly, looking at Jungkook with newfound hope.

Your new normal is spending your days with your time split between performing your volunteering duties and teaching Jungkook all about human life.

Christmas is only a week away now, and everyone around you seems to be buzzing with excitement. At this point, even the inside of the shelter has been decorated. The hallways are lined with lights and garlands, and the common areas even have a few trees set up with donated presents underneath. And, as much as you have dreaded the holiday, you can't deny that watching Jungkook experience it for the first time makes you hate it a little less.

Despite the initial stiffness that comes with being an angel unfamiliar with human life, he has quickly adapted to life at the shelter. He's kind and patient, and he’s always eager to help out where he can. The children, in particular, have taken a liking to him. He's become their favorite storyteller and always has the kids hanging onto his every word.

One afternoon, you find him sitting with them, singing a song in an ancient celestial language. Everyone will assume it’s some gibberish language he’s made up for one of his stories, but it reminds you of home. His voice is beautiful, melodic and soothing, with a honeyed quality to it that would make anyone stop and listen.

You stand in the doorway and watch, a smile tugging at your lips. He catches your eye and winks, the action so human and unexpected that it startles a laugh out of you. The children turn to see what's so funny, but you just shake your head, telling them to continue listening.

He comes to you when he finishes, smiling brightly. "Did you enjoy the song as well?"

"I did," you reply truthfully, your heart fluttering at his attention. The feelings you have been trying to resist are becoming increasingly persistent the more time you spend with him.

"That's good to hear.”

Suddenly, the kids clamor over to you both, giggling and pointing at something above you. You look up, and all the color drains from your face. Mistletoe. Who the hell put it here?

Jungkook looks between you and the mistletoe, obviously confused. “Why are you angry with that plant? It’s quite beautiful.”

“It’s a tradition, of sorts.” You say the word with disdain. “When a couple—not that we are one—walks under the mistletoe, they’re supposed to kiss.”

“Kiss?”

“We don’t have to, it’s stupid—”

“No, let’s do it. It's a part of the human experience, right? Let's consider it another lesson."

Heat rushes to your face, and you stutter incoherently, looking around the room for a way to escape. But the children are watching expectantly, their eyes wide and eager. You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Alright… close your eyes," you tell him.

He listens obediently, his eyes fluttering closed. You had never noticed just how long and pretty his eyelashes were until now. Bracing yourself, you take a deep breath and lean in, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. When you pull back, you're greeted with a perplexed expression as he opens his eyes.

"That was nice," he says after a brief pause. "But that’s really what a kiss is? In the show, they did it a bit more like—"

He leans in to demonstrate what he means, his lips brushing against yours. It's soft and a bit awkward at first, but he quickly gets the hang of it, pulling you closer. Against your better judgment, you let him, allowing yourself to get lost in the moment. His lips are softer than you would have expected. His fingers lightly squeeze your waist, sending a jolt of electricity through your body, and it's not until you hear some of the children giggling that you are reminded you have an audience.

You quickly pull away, breathless and flushed with embarrassment. Jungkook, however, is grinning from ear to ear. "That," he says. "That is how they did it."

"Again! Again!" one of the kids shouts, pulling at your arm.

Jungkook chuckles at his enthusiasm. "I think we should get back to our story," he says, ruffling the boy’s hair lovingly. Then, turning back to you, he murmurs, "Thank you. For the lesson."

You can barely speak coherently, but you manage to squeak out a small “you’re welcome” before rushing out of the room. How on Earth are you supposed to get your tasks done now? It's impossible to focus, your mind running in circles over his touch, the feel of his lips against yours.

When you return to Naomi’s office later that night, you’re relieved to see that Jungkook isn't there yet. You take a moment to sit on the edge of the bed and process your thoughts, your fingers tracing absentmindedly over your lips. A shiver passes through your body, a heat blooming in the pit of your stomach. You drop your hand, clenching it into a fist to stop the trembling.

"Nervous?" a voice asks, startling you out of your thoughts. Jungkook is standing in the doorway, watching you with an unreadable expression.

"I… no," you say.

"Don't lie," he chides gently, sitting next to you on the bed. “I can tell when you do that now, you know.” He keeps to a respectful distance, but he turns his gaze to you. “I think I'm starting to really understand this human thing. Emotions and all that.”

"Is that so?"

"Yes. They can be painful sometimes but also quite beautiful."

You watch as he turns his gaze back towards the room, and silence stretches between you again. However, it’s different now from how it used to be; it's not awkward or unsettling, but comfortable. His vulnerability makes you want to be honest, to admit to the way you feel.

Just as you’re about to say something, he continues, "But now it's time for me to learn about something else. I need to start strategizing for the coming confrontation."

"Right, Namsu," you say. You almost forgot about Jungkook’s original intentions. You clap your hands and get up, heading to the computer. "Alright. Let's research."

With Jungkook sufficiently prepared, the time soon comes for him to return to the celestial realm. However, he insists on leaving at night, so he can spend the day with you. He referred to it as "a date," and you practically tripped over your own feet, much to his enjoyment. He has certainly developed a penchant for teasing you.

You decide to take him into the heart of the city, so he can observe people in their natural element. There seem to be even more decorations than you remember, and people are bustling about to finish their last-minute shopping. However, you find yourself handling the chaos a lot better with Jungkook by your side.

He hasn't let go of your hand since you stepped out of the shelter, his thumb lightly rubbing circles over your knuckles. Every once in a while, he squeezes it lightly, a silent assurance that he’s there. Whether he notices your nerves and is doing it to comfort you or is doing it because he wants to, you're grateful for it.

His doe eyes dart this way and that, eagerly drinking in the scenery. You try to explain what everything is—the office buildings, luxury apartments, and tiny shops buried in alleyways—but he's more interested in the people. It isn't until you stop in front of a Hindu temple that his attention is finally captured by a building. He cocks his head to the side, eyes wide in wonder as he takes in the sight of it. The temple is a beautiful structure, with elaborate carvings and statues lining its walls.

"What is this place?" he asks, his voice full of awe.

"It's a place of worship for those that practice Hinduism," you explain.

His eyes sparkle with interest as he takes a step closer to the building. "Can we go inside?"

You glance at him, surprised by his request. But something in his earnest gaze breaks down your hesitation. "Sure," you say softly, leading him inside.

The inside of the temple is even more impressive than the outside. There are vibrant murals depicting different gods and an intoxicating scent of incense that fills the air. You gesture to the bell at the entrance. “Would you like to ring it?”

“What’s it for?” he asks, picking it up gently.

“It’s supposed to be a way to announce your arrival to the deities.”

Jungkook shakes it, the twinkling of the bell echoing in the large room. “Pretty,” he remarks as he places it back where it belongs.

He then follows your lead as you move towards the main shrine, your heart pounding in your chest as you realize what you're about to do. An angel of the Christian God at the altar of a different one? You're almost afraid you'll be struck down where you stand.

He takes in the offerings with a small smile. "It's all quite beautiful," he remarks. "It's a shame that their gods aren't real."

You know Jungkook means no harm and that it is what he has been conditioned to think for thousands of years, but you still bristle at his easy dismissal of their beliefs. “We’re real. Our God is real. Who’s to say the gods of their religion are not?”

"There is one God. That is what we were taught."

"Yes, it is. But we were also led to believe the withering was real. Just because it is said does not mean that it is true.”

Jungkook is silent for a moment, eyes still fixed on the offerings. Then he turns to you. "You truly believe that?"

"I don't know," you confess, feeling a little exposed. “I don't know what I believe anymore. I'm just… questioning. It's complicated."

"You have given me a lot to think about," he admits, his tone quiet. “For all I know, you might be right. I shouldn't have dismissed their beliefs so easily. I apologize.”

You stare at him in surprise; you hadn't expected him to back down so easily. "It's okay," you reassure him. "I'd say being open-minded is another lesson, but unfortunately, not all humans are."

You continue to walk around the city, introducing Jungkook to as many things as possible. Everything he does fills you with affection, whether it be him trying hot dogs from a street vendor and declaring them divine, or joining some kids who were playing soccer in a park. At one point, he kicks the ball so hard that it lands in a tree branch, and you can’t help but laugh as he clumsily climbs up to retrieve it.

When night falls, you end up at the pier, watching the shimmering water beneath the stars. Jungkook is oddly quiet, looking out at the horizon with a distant expression. The silence isn't uncomfortable, but it does leave you feeling a little uneasy. You reach for his hand, and he startles slightly before turning to look at you.

"Penny for your thoughts?" you ask.

He smiles slightly. “I’m guessing that’s some sort of human expression, and you’re not actually going to give me a penny.”

“You would be correct.”

“I’m thinking about a lot of things.” He exhales as if letting out a breath he has been holding. "You, for one. But I'm always thinking of you so that much isn't a surprise." You blush and swat at his arm. "But I’m also thinking about my beliefs."

"What about them?"

He takes a moment to get his thoughts in order, grabbing your hand more tightly as if you're his anchor in a stormy sea. He answers your question with another. "What if everything we have been taught is wrong? I mean, we have never spoken with the Almighty directly. Angels, apostles, they can all take His words and twist them for their own purposes. We've seen it in action with Namsu, and with how the Bible has been changed to promote hatred."

You're taken aback by his frankness, the depth of his vulnerability. You have no answers for him, but you can relate to him and offer what little understanding you have come to have.

"So maybe it is wrong, and things have gotten taken out of context or changed as the years have gone on. Like you said, we cannot talk to Him, so we can’t ask for the truth. Or, maybe it is all part of a bigger plan, and unwavering faith is the answer.” You pause, steeling your resolve, before continuing, “But it isn’t for me. I can’t live that way. But how you decide to live is your choice. Who you are is your choice. I cannot decide that for you, and neither can He.”

He frowns. "I don't know how to make that choice. Who even am I? What am I without my purpose? Without Him?"

"Perhaps we're not defined by a single purpose we've been given," you answer quietly. "Maybe we're more than that."

"More than our purpose?"

"Yeah," you say, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "Maybe we don't need a purpose. Maybe it's okay to just exist."

Jungkook’s gaze turns thoughtful, considering your words as if they are the most precious thing in the world. "Just exist," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. After a moment, he stands up, looking at you with a newfound fire blazing in his eyes. "I need to return. I will talk to some of my confidants, gather information, and then confront Namsu."

You knew it was coming, but your stomach still drops. You're scared for him, for what will happen when he leaves. But you see the determination in his eyes, the steel in his gaze. You know better than to try and stop him now.

"You'll be careful, right?" you ask, your voice shaking slightly.

"I will."

He pulls you up and envelops you in his arms. His embrace is comforting, protective, and for a brief moment, it makes you forget about all your worries.

"Promise me," you whisper into his chest.

"I promise," he says, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back. He pulls away after a moment, but not before brushing his lips against your temple. "I will return. For you."

His words weigh heavy in the air as he pulls away fully, breaking the physical contact between you two. His gaze lingers on you for another moment before he turns away and disappears into the night. You're left standing on the pier alone, the cold wind making you shiver. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you head back to Lost Star, where you have nothing to do but wait.

It’s Christmas Eve before you know it. The holiday you have been dreading feels even worse with Jungkook’s absence, and frankly, you don’t know how to handle it. You plaster a smile on your face for the sake of the children, playing along with their excitement over what presents they are going to get and stories of Santa Claus. But every time someone brings Jungkook up, wondering where he is, you feel tempted to run to Naomi’s office and hide.

Speaking of Naomi, she has been keeping a close watch over you, mothering you as per usual. You know she can tell that something has happened. Once you step away from the festivities to do some of your work, she pulls you aside.

“Honey, what’s going on? These days you seem so out of it; you’re just flitting around room to room, acting like a ghost.” When you don’t answer, she frowns. “It’s because of that boy, isn’t it?”

"He… he needed to go home. He had some things he needed to figure out," you manage to say. It's not a lie, just an oversimplification of the truth.

She wraps an arm around you. "He's going to come back. I saw the way he looked at you, and you at him. And if he doesn't, well, screw him."

"Naomi!"

"Sorry, sorry. He was sweet and all, but you're my girl. I'll always have your back." Naomi declares, patting you on the back.

You accept her comfort, fighting back your tears. If only she knew your fear didn’t revolve around him coming back—of course, part of you is scared that something will happen to him, but the rational part of your brain, the part that knows his strength, has no doubts he'll be alright. In actuality, your biggest fear is that he won't be able to stay with you, and you’ll have to go through the pain of losing him all over again.

He's an angel. You're human. There's no future there. Your traitorous heart made you fall harder and harder for him without sparing that a moment's thought, and now you have to will yourself to accept that you'll always be in love with someone you cannot have.

The rest of the day passes in a blur, nothing but forced cheer and mindless chatter. Naomi sticks by your side as much as she can, making sure to redirect everyone who asks you questions about Jungkook. You're grateful for her presence, her constant support, and now more than ever, you realize how lucky you truly are to have her in your life.

As soon as everyone is in bed and your tasks for the day are done, you seek out the solitude of the pier once again. You've been coming here daily since he left. A sentimental thing, mostly, since it was the last place you saw him. But you also hope each night will be the night he returns.

The wind is strong tonight, the kind that chills you down to your bones, and the stars are hidden behind the clouds. You wrap your scarf more tightly around yourself, gazing aimlessly at the turbulent water. Suddenly, there's a bright light and a shrill noise. You aren't scared this time, and it's not nearly as overwhelming as it was. He must have tempered it somehow, made it less painful for you.

The light fades, leaving behind a figure that is unmistakably Jungkook. The sight of him fills you with such relief and happiness that you rush forward, throwing your arms around him. He envelops you in his arms, his wings folding around you, a sigh of contentment escaping his lips as he buries his face in your hair.

"I missed you very much," he says, breathing deeply.

"I missed you too," you whisper, tears prickling at your eyes. "I knew you'd come back."

"I said I would, didn't I?" he teases, pulling away just enough to look at you. "And I have news."

"What happened?"

You stay locked in his embrace as he speaks, bringing one of your hands to his face to stroke his cheek, to follow the line of his jaw with your fingers. He lets you, as eager to feel your touch as you are to feel his.

"I confronted Namsu," he begins. "But I wasn't alone. There were other angels who had started the 'degradation' process, those who were too fearful of retribution to say anything. I told them everything, and we confronted the other Thrones about Namsu and everything he had done. They didn’t approve of his actions, and they punished him for it."

"Really?" You ask, eyes wide with surprise. "Just like that? They believed you?"

A soft laugh bubbles up from him. "It wasn't quite that simple. There was plenty of arguing, plenty of disbelief. I’d never seen anything like it. But in the end, Namsu was banished from the celestial realm."

Relief washes over you at his words, the tension you hadn't even realized you were carrying leaving your body. "That's incredible.”

Jungkook shrugs slightly, but there’s an unmistakable look of pride in his eyes. "I’m just glad he has gotten what he deserves. Now you have justice." He places a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"And what about the others? The ones who have started to degrade?" Your heart clenches at the thought of them being punished for something beyond their control.

"They're safe," Jungkook assures you quickly. "The Thrones have promised to take care of it all. They're going to convene with Him, to see if the Heavenly teachings can be altered. Things are changing up there; I think it's all going to be alright."

You're overwhelmed with emotion, both relief and dread tugging at you simultaneously. It is good to know that things will be changing, but what is done to you has been done. And now, Jungkook has no reason to stay with you. You take a step back from him.

"What about you?" you ask quietly, barely daring to meet his gaze.

"What about me?"

"You have no reason to stay anymore. You can return to your normal duties. You did what was right, and everything is fixed."

"I did what was right, yes, and I'm sure things will be much better from now on," Jungkook agrees. But he steps forward, taking your hands in his and looking deep into your eyes. "But now, I need to do what's right for me."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, my star." Your heart stutters at the endearment. "I'm not going anywhere. I want to be with you."

"But… you can only do that if you're—"

"Human, yes," he interrupts.

"Jungkook! You can't! You can't Fall for me," you half-shout, half-whisper. "You're a good angel, you—"

"Y/N." The force behind his voice stops you. "Even before you showed me the beauty of being human, before I knew how to feel, before I even knew what love was, I would have done anything for you.” His confession takes your breath away, and you wobble on your feet, moving a few steps back from him in your shock. “If you had simply asked it of me, I would have stood with you in the fires of hell for all eternity and still been grateful for each moment spent at your side."

The tears you were holding back begin to fall. "You would have?"

“I would. I can. I will.” He moves closer to you with each beat between words until he stands directly in front of you, only a hair's breadth away. Gently, hesitantly—as if for the first time—he takes your hand and presses it to his chest right above where a human heart would be. “Just say the words, and I will fall for you. I will forsake myself and turn my back on Heaven. The pain of losing my wings will be inconsequential compared to the pain of having to be without you.”

"W-what words?"

He smiles, eyes crinkling at the edges. "You know what I want to hear. Be honest. Even better, be selfish, like a human. Tell me what you really want, and I will oblige."

You hesitate. You have been fighting your feelings this entire time, so sure of the fact that Jungkook would choose to continue his life as an angel. You never wanted him to Fall for you, to be torn away from the life he has always known the way you were. But he deserves to make the choice himself. If he wants your honesty, you will give it to him.

"Speak, Y/N," Jungkook urges, his gaze never leaving yours.

"I want…" You begin slowly, your voice barely a whisper. "I want you. I want you to stay with me." He grins, relief clear in his eyes. "Then I will."

"But you shouldn't have to Fall!"

"Fall or not, it won't change anything," he assures you. "I chose this path before even knowing there was a choice. I chose you from the second we were created.”

"Even if that means giving up everything?" you ask.

Jungkook’s expression softens. He reaches up and tucks a wayward lock of hair behind your ear. "Does it seem like I’m giving up everything?" he muses aloud, his eyes never leaving yours. "Because from where I stand, it seems like I’m gaining everything.”

"Smooth-talker,” you laugh, a tear slipping down your cheek. He brushes it off with his thumb, his gaze softening even further.

For a moment, you just stand there, looking at each other. It's quiet except for your breathing and the sound of waves crashing against the pier. You have been so afraid of asking him to make this choice, and yet he seems so certain about it, as if it was what he wanted all along.

"Are you sure about this?" you ask him one more time, seeking reassurance. "Once done, there's no going back."

His answer is immediate, "I've never been more sure about anything in my life."

"This will change everything," you say again.

"I know," he replies simply.

"Come find me when it's over," you whisper, placing a gentle kiss to his lips. "I'll be at the shelter."

As you go to leave, you can't help but glance back over your shoulder at Jungkook, taking in the appearance of him and his wings one last time. He's still standing there, watching you go with love evident in his gaze. It quells some of your worries. And then you blink, and he’s gone.

The hours that creep by feel like days. You busy yourself with meaningless tasks, cleaning the office, flipping through an old book left on the table, scrolling TikTok. None of it does anything to dull your anxiety, and you're weighing the pros and cons of tearing your hair out before you finally hear a knock on the door. You shoot up to your feet, heart pounding in your chest. Slowly, you open the door, and there he stands. "I'm here," he says simply. "As I promised."

You pull him into a hug once again, burying your head into his chest. You can hear the beat of his human heart and, unable to stop yourself, you burst into tears. You know the pain he just went through, can remember experiencing it yourself like it was yesterday, and you can hardly believe he went through something so awful to be with you.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, tightening your hold on him. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," he coos, gently stroking your hair. "This was my choice."

You swallow hard and pull back from him so you can look into his eyes, searching for any sign of regret. You find none.

"Are you okay?" You ask anyway, your heart aching at the thought of what he has given up.

"I am," he assures, his voice full of conviction. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss against your lips, and when he pulls away, he's smiling. "I wondered if doing that would feel different now that I'm fully human."

"And does it?" you ask, smiling back up at him.

"Yes," he admits, tracing an invisible line down your cheek, your neck, your collarbone. You shiver at his touch. "It feels more real. Stronger somehow. It's like you're the break of dawn after a long night."

Your breath catches in your throat. "Being human certainly hasn't changed the fact that you have a way with words."

"Only when it comes to you," he replies, his fingers never ceasing their journey across your skin. They make their way back to your waist, where he plays with the hem of your shirt. "There's one lesson we never covered, you know."

"A-and what would that be?" you squeak as his fingers caress the smooth skin of your stomach.

His voice drops lower, and he tugs you closer by your belt loops. "Human intimacy."

You flush at his audacity but don't pull away. "And what would be the best way for me to teach you about that?"

"Hm…" He leans down so that his lips hover over yours, and you can feel his warm breath with each word he speaks. "I think I would respond well to some hands-on practice."

Your heartbeat thunders in your ears as his lips press against yours in a slow, searing kiss that turns your knees to jelly. He takes his time exploring your mouth, his lips moving delicately against yours. His hands are warm on your skin, trailing up and down your back as he pulls you closer.

"Then I suppose we should get started," you manage to whisper when you finally break apart, breathless.

Jungkook moves into the room, closing the door behind him, and sits down on the edge of the pull-out bed. He stares up at you, his once-innocent doe eyes now dark and hooded with desire. You float towards him as if being pulled by a magnet, and he pulls you down so that you’re straddling his lap. Your hands rest on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your touch.

"I think I should warn you," he says, hands sliding down to rest right above the curve of your ass, "I might be a slow learner."

You roll your eyes, a short, playful chuckle escaping from your lips. "I think I can handle that."

The room fills with an easy silence as you continue to explore each other, experiencing sensations new for the both of you. His hands trace every curve and dip of your body, his touch curious yet surprisingly confident. Your fingers trace the lines of his face, his jaw, his chest, and then find their way under his shirt to the newly-formed scars on his back. They are rough against your fingertips, a stark contrast to the rest of his smooth skin.

"You aren't in pain?”

“No,” he assures you, his hands sliding to a similar position on your own back. "Were you for long after?"

"No, but I'm still worried," you smile sheepishly.

He laughs and kisses your nose. "Don't be. Don't feel like you have to be gentle with me. I won't break."

You laugh in return, your eyes twinkling with delight and a touch of mischief. "Is that a challenge, Jungkook?"

He hums in response, his gaze never leaving yours. "Maybe."

His teasing reply only spurs you on. Rising to the bait, you lean in to kiss him, this time with a boldness that leaves him momentarily stunned. But he recovers quickly, matching your fervor and deepening the kiss. Your hands weave into his hair, pulling him closer, and his hips jut up against you almost involuntarily. You moan at the sensation, and he stills.

"What was that?" he asks.

"That," you breathe out, "is what human intimacy sounds like."

"I want to hear it again."

His lips find yours again and this time it's deep and demanding, all teeth and tongue and the promise of what’s to come. His hands grab your waist, forcing you to grind down against him as he once again lifts his hips up to meet your core. Another moan escapes your lips, the sound quickly swallowed by his hungry mouth. He tugs at the hem of your shirt, his fingertips skimming against the skin of your lower back. Eagerly, you lift your arms, and he pulls it off over your head.

"Jungkook…" you whimper, clutching at his shoulders. He responds by nuzzling into your neck, his hot breath making you shiver with pleasure.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs against the curve of your neck, his lips tracing the column of your throat, down to your chest.

He places a gentle kiss above each breast before descending lower still, sucking one into his mouth. His lips and tongue move expertly, drawing gasps from you as your nerves ignite with pleasure. His hands are firm on your waist, holding you securely against him as he devotes himself entirely to exploring the new terrain, and you grind against him wantonly. You can feel that your panties are soaked with the proof of your desire.

"Jungkook," you say again, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His name is a plea, a prayer. "I need more."

He pulls back, his lips swollen from his ministrations. "And so I'll give it to you."

You eagerly crawl off of him, shimmying out of your jeans, before settling with your back against the pillows. You grab at the air, beckoning him closer. He does the same, now only in his boxers, and slots himself on top of you, his bare skin against yours intensifying the burning desire coursing through your veins. His hard length presses against your core, and you whine.

"I don't know what I'm doing," he admits in a low voice, his hot breath fanning against your face as his eyes search yours for assurance.

You reach up, caressing his cheek. "It's okay," you soothe him, your hands then trailing down his back to rest on his hips, encouraging him closer. "We'll figure it out together."

His lips find your neck as his hands explore every inch of you, his rough fingers exploring the softness of your flesh. He slides one down over your stomach and lower still, feather-light touches teasing you until you're gasping beneath him. His fingers trace the edge of your panties before sliding the fabric down. You lift your hips, aiding him in removing the last barrier between you. He tosses them aside before returning his attention to you, his fingers skimming along your trembling thighs. His fingers move gradually, inching steadily upward until he's touching you where you're most sensitive. You let out a soft gasp, gripping the sheets.

"Is this okay?" he asks. You nod eagerly, unable to get the words out, and he chuckles, placing a gentle kiss at the base of your throat. "Good."

Always the over-achiever, he slides down your body until his face is level with your core, focusing intently on his work. His fingers move with a slow, calculated rhythm that quickly has you dripping for him. Eventually, he slips one of his fingers inside of you. Your breath hitches, your hands clutching at his shoulders for support.

"Am I doing this right?" he asks, uncertainty creeping into his voice as he looks up at you from between your thighs.

"You must be," you gasp out, encouraging him with a roll of your hips. "Don't stop."

Grinning, he adds a second finger, working you open until you're panting and squirming beneath him. Your back arches off the bed as his fingers work their magic, curling in just the right way that has you seeing stars. Praise tumbles from your lips, but you're sure that it just sounds like nonsense, your thoughts too muddled to form coherent words.

"You're so wet," he murmurs in a low, gravelly voice that only adds fuel to your desire.

Without warning, he lowers his mouth to your core, his lips and tongue joining his exploring fingers. The sensation is electric; your breath hitches, and an animalistic moan escapes you. He takes it as a sign of encouragement, doubling his efforts. Your fingers find their way to his hair, threading into the dark strands, seeking purchase. You can't help but pull, and he moans against you, the vibrations only furthering your pleasure.

"Jungkook," you warn, "I'm—"

A coil of white heat tightens within you before snapping. His name slips from your lips as you climax, sparks dancing behind your eyelids as he continues to pleasure you, eagerly lapping up your release. He doesn't stop, not until you physically pull him away from you, body shaking with overstimulation. He climbs back up your body, his lips finding yours in a gentle kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips.

"You okay?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

His pupils are blown out with desire, his hair slicked back with sweat, and he's so attractive that just the sight of him has you clenching your thighs together.

You nod, cupping his face in your hands. "More than okay," you assure him. "That was amazing. Now," you slide your fingers down his chest, sliding over the waistband of his boxers. "Let's see what we can do about you."

You hook your thumbs around the fabric and pull them downwards, and he does the rest of the work, kicking them off. You reach down, your fingers tentatively wrapping around his cock. He gasps, his head falling forward against your chest as you begin to stroke him with a slow, measured rhythm.

He nearly whines, his grip tightening on your hips. "That feels… I can't…" His words dissolve into soft, broken moans as you continue to work him over.

Suddenly overtaken with need, you stop, pulling him in for another searing kiss. "I need you inside of me, Jungkook," you gasp against his lips, "Please."

Your hand guides him back to your core, and his breath hitches. “Are you ready?”

Nodding, you lift your hips to meet him. He pushes into you carefully, slowly, each inch an intense sensation for both of you. Your body clenches around him as if welcoming him home, a strangled moan escaping your lips. One of his hands clasps yours, bringing it to rest on the side of your head while he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his heavy breaths fanning your skin. He's shaking against you, and you feel just as overwhelmed.

You squeeze the hand that's holding yours, urging him on. "You're okay," you whisper, "I'm okay. Move."

He nods, pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back inside of you. Your body jolts at the sensation, gasping his name over and over.

"You feel incredible," he breathes out, the statement more for himself than for you. “So perfect.” Your fingers thread through his hair once more, pulling him down to meet your lips.

His hips set a steady rhythm, filling the room with soft sounds of skin on skin and heavy panting. He lets out a low groan as he adjusts his angle, hitting a spot inside of you that has you crying out and grabbing at him wherever you can reach. You wrap your legs around his waist, throwing your head back against the pillows.

"That's it," you whine, "Right there. It feels so good—"

Your words cut off into a choked moan as he thrusts into you at that exact spot again and again, his movements becoming more erratic. He's close—you can tell by the way his body tenses and how he gasps desperately into your mouth.

"I'm… I'm—" he stammers out, breath hitching between each word.

"I know," you gasp out, meeting him thrust for thrust. "Me too."

You pull him as close as possible, holding him to you as you both chase your release. Your eyes squeeze shut, and your nails dig into his skin as a wave of pleasure crashes over you, even more intense than the last. You moan his name as you come, shuddering beneath him. He moans into your neck as he follows you over the edge, his hips bucking uncontrollably as he buries himself deep inside you.

He collapses on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his heavy breathing tickling your skin. He stays there, nestled inside of you, his heart pounding against your chest, matching the rapid rhythm of your own. You feel dizzy, your senses overwhelmed by him—his scent, his taste, the feel of him on top of you and within you. You caress his back, slowly tracing the contours of his scars with gentle strokes, the action soothing for both of you.

Eventually, he shifts, carefully pulling himself out of you and collapsing onto his back next to you. His hand searches blindly for yours, lacing your fingers together once he finds it. He brings your joined hands up to his lips and places a soft kiss on your knuckles.

"Is… are you…" He lifts his head to meet your eyes, unable to form words.

"I'm more than okay," you assure him softly, brushing a stray lock of hair off his forehead.

"Good," he whispers, a contented sigh escaping him.

His eyes roam over your face once more before closing, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. Together, you lay there under the sheets, and the silence goes on for so long that you almost think he fell asleep.

Then suddenly, you hear him say, voice barely above a whisper, "I love you." You look over to see him staring up at you with adoration in his gaze and a soft smile on his lips. "I know I don't have to say it since surely there can be no doubt that everything I have done for you is out of love. But I want to say it anyway. I want to continue saying it for the rest of my life. I have loved you since before I even had the capacity to feel it, and I will continue to love you until time ceases to exist."

His confession leaves you breathless, and you can do little but turn on your side, grab his face, and place a gentle kiss on his lips. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks.

"I love you too, Jungkook," you whisper against his lips, "So very, very much."

He lets out an audible sigh of relief as if he had been holding his breath, waiting for your response. His free hand reaches out to caress your cheek, wiping away a tear that had managed to escape. "I knew you would say so, but I'm happy to hear it all the same."

The two of you get ready for bed, and, for the first time since commandeering Naomi’s office, you fall asleep together in each other's arms.

The day you have been dreading has arrived—Christmas. Despite your initial hatred, however, you find yourself actually participating in the festivities around the shelter. Just like as many others do, you aren't going to consider it a holy day. You're going to use it as an excuse to be happy and spend time with your loved ones.

You join the group of children who sit by the pile of gifts, their excitement palpable as they eagerly wait for Naomi to declare it time to open them. Small hands tug at Jungkook’s sleeve, pulling him down to their level as they bombard him with questions about where he's been. He settles down amongst them, answering their questions as honestly as he can. His eyes meet yours over the sea of eager faces, and he stretches out a hand towards you, inviting you to join him. You sit right on his lap, making some of the kids giggle.

"Alright, everyone, it's time!" Naomi's voice echoes through the shelter, immediately quieting the children down.

As each name is called out and the kids scramble to collect their gifts, you can't help but smile. The pure delight on their faces is infectious. Noticing your happiness, Jungkook pulls you back so that you’re leaning against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist.

He places a gentle kiss on your neck, murmuring, "You seem happy."

"I am," you say, placing your hands over his. "The holidays aren't so bad with you around."

"I'm glad." He turns your head so he can place a quick kiss on your lips, one that is light and soft and sweet, full of love. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Jungkook," you echo, smiling brightly.

Later, Naomi corners the two of you, pulling you aside. "I've been thinking about what to give you," she says. "I—"

"Naomi, you don't have to give me anything!"

"Don't interrupt me," she scolds, but there's no bite behind it. "Like I was saying, I was thinking it over, and I realized that the best gift I could offer is not anything material. From tomorrow on, you will officially be a supervisor. A paid supervisor."

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you glance at Jungkook, who is beaming at you with pride. You turn back to Naomi, stuttering out a response.

"B-but Naomi, I couldn't possibly—"

"Yes, you can," she interrupts, her tone firm. "From the day you arrived here, you have been working as hard as any of us. You deserve this." Before you can argue any further, she thrusts a small envelope into your hands. "Consider it an early Christmas gift and your first paycheck. And my office? It's yours."

"Thank you, Naomi," you manage, your voice choked with emotion. You pull her into a hug, hoping it can express everything you don't know how to say.

She pats your back, chuckling. "If anything, it's an excuse for me to take some time off. I'm getting old and need to start sharing the burden. Don't expect it to be a walk in the park!"

You pull away, wiping a stray tear from your eye. "Of course not. I'm ready to be worked to the bone, ma'am."

"That's what I like to hear," she comments, her voice carrying an undertone of pride. She turns to Jungkook, her gaze soft but words sharp. "Take care of her, will you?"

"Always," he replies without a moment's hesitation, which earns him a small nod from Naomi.

Eventually, the celebrations wind down and people start to retreat to their beds until only you and Jungkook remain. Instead of doing the same, you decide to return to the pier and watch the water for a bit, not ready for the day to end. The two of you walk in comfortable silence, hands linked tightly as if promising not to let go.

Sitting at the edge of the pier, Jungkook wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. His body heat seeps into your skin, fighting away the cold, and you rest your head on his chest, letting his strong, steady heartbeat lull you into contentment.

"Who would've thought we would end up here?" you reflect, staring out at the ocean.

Jungkook laughs softly, his chest rumbling beneath your ear. "I don't think either of us could have predicted this."

"I never thought I would be happy that any of this happened, but I am. Are you?"

His gaze softens as he takes in the sight of you. "More than I could possibly put into words," he admits.

"Will you miss it, though? Heaven?"

"I thought I would," he says, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "But Earth has its own kind of heaven. You're here. Naomi is here. The children are here. I have so much more yet to discover, to experience." His gaze returns to you, eyes soft and full of love. "How could I miss anything when I have all of this?”

Your heart swells at his words, his declaration warming you like nothing else could. You reach up to cup his face, your fingers lightly brushing his lips. His eyes flutter shut for a moment at your touch before opening again to hold your gaze.

"You're right," you whisper, your voice barely carrying over the sound of the waves. "This is our heaven. Here, with each other. And who knows, maybe we'll end up back there someday."

"You think?" Jungkook asks, raising an eyebrow. "I must say, I'm a little surprised hearing that from you. I didn't think you had faith anymore or wanted it for that matter."

You shrug. "Honestly, I don't know. I don't have my original beliefs anymore, that's for sure, but I don't resent it all like I once did, either. I think I've just found a new kind of faith. A faith in myself, in people, in goodness, and in love. There are so many different kinds of religions out there, and at their core, they're all about trying to understand the world around us, trying to find ways to cope and move forward. I think that's what I'm doing now, in my own way."

"That's beautiful," Jungkook says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Somehow both simple and complex. Just like life itself, I suppose."

"And what about you, Jungkook?” you ask, pecking him on the lips. How will you move forward?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure, either. But I think I'm happy to find out, as long as it's with you."

You hold each other close, each hoping your touch can express what no words could possibly convey. Love. Gratitude. Hope. The promise of a shared journey. What more could you possibly ask for?

TAGLIST: @yessa-vie

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook angst #jeon jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts au #jungkook au #my fic #collab

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yandere-romanticaa · 1 year

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I'm not sure if it's okay, but can I request a second part for this precious Douma post you fed us with please ?

If you don't do second part to your post, no problem, anything for him will calm my hunger 🥲

Here it is, the heavily requested part 2 of this piece. Hope you enjoy it!

Barely a week has passed ever since the horrific encounter with Lord Douma.

You recalled someone saying that the stench of death is permanent, that it is something you can never forget once you get a whiff of it.

The smell of rot and decay haunted you both day and night. Sleep became a scarce luxury as you would lay awake in the dead of night, wondering just what other poor soul was Lord Douma going to devour next. It all clicked once you put two and two together, of course he was a demon. His strange reactions, twisted attitude and carefree smiles were nothing but a mask to cover up his true, carnivorous nature. Douma clearly had a preference for women for his meals as you noticed that most of the people who ran amok were women.

Were you next?

Despite him not turning around and even outright saying that he wasn't going to do anything, you simply did not trust him. Why should you? He was a demon, a very clever one at that, clearly. He managed to trick hundreds of people into blindly following him and submitting to his every single little whim. All he needed to do was just say the word and the entire community would execute you without a question - Lord Douma's word was absolute.

You didn't even want to think about the other much more grizzly possibility if he wanted a more hands on approach.

Due to the encounter that you had unfortunately witnessed, your work had started to hinder. You became sloppy and shaky, you couldn't even perform the most basics of tasks. Someone else was always forced to step in for you and others voiced their concern for you.

"Why aren't you with Lord Douma? You always pour his afternoon tea!"

"I thought Lord Douma wanted you close by for the ceremony?"

Many similar statements would ring in your ears on a daily basis that it made you want to bang your head against a wall a pull out every single little strand of hair. Just how blind and stupid were there people?! There was no way that you were the only one who knew what was really going on behind closed doors. To make your living nightmare even worse than it really was, on one fine and sunny morning one little boy came up to you. With a cheerful smile on his face he said:

"Lord Douma wishes to speak with you! Please meet him in his chambers as soon as possible!"

Each step that you took felt more and more agonizing then it should have been. You felt like someone had placed a giant pile of rocks on your chest and chained them there. What were you to do, oh God, what were you supposed to do? Do you play dumb or should you come clean? If you told him the truth he might appreciate your honesty and let you off the hook -

...That was nothing but wishful thinking. There was no point in trying to make sense of a demon.

You arrive to his chambers, the doors closed shut. With a heavy heart you knock and a cheerful "Come in!~" is heard from the other side.

You don't dare look at Lord Douma directly in the eye. You lower your head in fear but do your best to make it look like a sign of respect. He sits on his makeshift throne, chin resting on one hand as the other urges you forward to sit in front of him. With your knees sinking to the ground you feel him reaching out towards you, his fingers were playing with stray strands of your hair.

You still did not raise your gaze.

"(y/n) dear, I haven't seen you in so long! I missed my favorite disciple so much! Why are you ignoring me?!"

Who would have thought that this whiney brat in front of you was a man eating demon? He sounded like a little boy, like he hadn't seen his favorite toy in a long time, which was partially true in a way. You grit your teeth and try thinking of something proper to say but Douma beats you to it.

"Do not ignore me."

Icy chills take over your entire being. Since... Since when did Lord Douma sound like that? You clenched the fabric your kimono, knuckles turning white due to the pressure. Suddenly, a sharp thug forced you to look upward and were met with a rainbow gaze.

"You aren't ignoring me, right, (y/n)?"

You can do nothing but gently shake your head. With his gaze glued to you it was impossible to breathe let alone speak. Feeling the pressure behind your skull lighten your shoulders slump forward as Lord Douma brings you closer and locks you in his embrace.

He knows.

He knows that you saw him. Why else would he summon you like this? Feeling helpless you could do nothing but wrap your arms around the cult leader, returning his hug in full.

Ignorance really was bliss.

You finally understood the beauty of it.

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mncxbe · 2 months

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𝑭𝒚𝒐𝒅𝒐𝒓 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆: reference post; @soullessfyodor here's my take on Fyodor with a guardian angel♡// ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑𝒄𝒘: delulu, Fyodor's a bit manipulative + has a God complex, dubious relationship between them, possibly inaccurate biblical lore

he knows you're there, knows you exist. growing up in a religious family, he's always been told that his guardian angel was watching over him, making sure he was safe from any danger. but trying to interact with you never actually occurred to him

you showed yourself to him for the first time when he was around ten. he'd caught a terrible flu and his already weak body could barely handle it. so you did your job, you healed him and ever since you visited him more and more often

it was against the rules but what could you do? he was a quiet kid, a bit too intelligent for his own good and you just had a feeling that there was something wrong with him

your suspicions were confirmed once he started joining different criminal organizations. you tried to keep him on a straight path but there wasn't much you could do to change his resolve

"Don't worry, my dear angel, I am quite certain that the purity of my soul is untainted." he smiled as he packed his few belongings in a suitcase.

"I'm begging you, Fyodor. Don't go to Japan it's a bad idea–" you protested but he wouldn't have it.

"I'm not keen on using this argument but I am an adult now, angel. I can make my own decisions"

"You're still acting like a kid" you huffed, fluffing your wings, causing a few feathers to fall on the bed covers. Fyodor chuckled, gently seizing your chin "And you're still acting like my mother. There's no need for you to be so concerned for me"

ever since Fyodor moved to Japan to pursue his plans the relationship between you changed. Fyodor became more secretive, but you still didn't give up on your routine– every night, Fyodor played the cello for you or read you a few pages of his book. those were his little ways of showing you his gratitude for always being there for him

after a few months you could sense a deeper change. he barely talked to you about his plans and every time you tried to voice your concerns he deflected

"My, my, angel. I told you before there's no reason to worry about me." smiled the man, motioning you to join him in bed.

"I'm serious, Fyodor. I can't keep covering up for you. You're killing people don't you realize your actions have consequences for me? And for you too" Fyodor simply laughed, pulling you next to him as he traced the outline of your wings with his fingertips "Am I upsetting the higher ups?" You nodded and his grin widened. Cupping your face with his free hand, Fyodor brought you closer to him.

"Why should I care about that, my dear? After all, I am a God myself, aren't I?" Before you could reply Fyodor placed a kiss to the corner of your lips"You know I'm right."

"You shouldn't say such things"

"You've let so many things slide, angel, I'm sure you can excuse some mild blasphemy"

and you did let it slide, and other things too. there were many things he should've been sanctioned for but you swept them under the rug– no matter what atrocious things he did you still believed he was the sweet Fyodor you once knew

it didn't take long until you lost your place among the angels and were sent to hell. call it divine judgement, or karma, but covering Fyodor's endeavours for so long did have a consequence

as a fallen angel you could still come to earth whenever you pleased but for a while you avoided Fyodor. you were mad he was cruel enough to let this happen. all of this could've been avoided if he would've just listened to you

still, it didn't take long for you to return to him. after spending so much time together you couldn't just ignore him. especially not when you could hear him calling out your name through the endless night in hell

"So, my angel, are you getting accustomed to your new home?" he taunted, his lithe fingers dancing along the cello's cords, his music echoing through the dim-lit room.

"Don't you dare joke about that" you hissed "How did you find out in the first place?"

"I figured, since you stopped visiting for a while..." Taking note of your silence Fyodor sighed, putting down his instrument "I do appreciate your sacrifice, angel. Your devotion is truly remarkable"

You scoffed again at his words, feeling your blood boil "You should be ashamed of yourself. You condemned me to a life in hell."

"You could always come and live with me. You're more than welcome in my humble home" he said in a honeyed vocie as he got up from his chair and moved towards you. He kneeled in front of the futon you were laying on and held your hand. "My dear angel, forgive me. If what I doing wasn't this important I would've given up on my goals. But it can't be helped"

You sighed, running your thumb along his knuckles "Such important plans yet you cannot tell me anything about them."

"Of course not" he smiled "Not now at least, but one day will come when I'll tell you everything. Until then, you'll have to trust me."

You remained silent for a while, a heavy tension settling between the two of you before he spoke again. "You lost your God and your status, but I assume you still have your powers."

"You're correct"

"Then stay by my side, look over me like you always have" The man rose to his feet and leaned closer to you, his breath fanning over the shell of your ear "I can give you a purpose. That's what you need, right?"

"So you're asking me to taint my soul even more? To give up on my principles, on everything."

"You were already deemed a sinner, my angel. You've fallen. I'm offering you a way to rise back up– a new god, a new purpose." Striaghtening his back, he bowed, holding a hand in front of you. "So what do you say?"

You weren't stupid– it was obvious what Fyodor was after. He just needed your powers to keep him alive. You were just another tool, another pawn. But it was the best deal you could've asked for, so you hesitantly accepted his hand. Fyodor smiled, helping you up from the couch before he placed a tender kiss to the back of your hand.

"You and I, my dear, are going to accomplish great things together"

#𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd x reader #bsd fluff #bsd fyodor #bungo stray dogs fyodor #fyodor bsd #fyodor x reader #bungo stray dogs fluff #bsd headcanons #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd

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aimasup · 1 month

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Spoilers for The March 2024 Welcome Home Update, LONG post warning:

The Eddie Scene

Let's establish two realities: The Neighbourhood (theirs) and The Show (the humans').

(The third is ours, here, actually real, no black gunk and Welcome Home is just a really cool fictional horror project. Irrelevant, just wanted to bring us down to earth)

I like to believe it's an unaware Wreck-It-Ralph situation: The Neighbourhood exists as The Show because that's how they live and what they were created for.

They have a happy home in the commercials and episodes, interviews with humans and playfully leaning on the fourth wall (via Narrator). And when Playfellow Workshop had a really good influential show, they quite literally brought these puppets to life, perhaps too much.

That's where the trouble comes in; we don't know if the puppets being sentient was ever revealed to the public, or what the black rot even is yet. Personally I can't really even guess how much the other puppets know at the moment, not even Home. All we know is that Wally was the first to 'wake up', likely.

So I'm just gonna say what I think about the Eddie segment at the end of the commercial compilation from his perspective alone (bravo to the voice actors and artists my god).

The Neighbourhood...

The Show.

Here's what I assume: both in the Neighbourhood and The Show, Eddie is being given a break from working so hard. Because I believe the script/special was supposed to end here:

Eddie Dear was happy.

[calm jazz music as the title card fades in] And a Happy Homewarming to one and all! Ho Ho Ho!!

End.

Because it makes no sense why The Show staff would spend extra resources to give the puppet Not Quirky Anxiety and end their Christmas special on a worrying note for general audiences.

I think The Show staff wrapped up that scene and left to go check on the rest of the set or something, and the Eddie puppet was left there, alone in Wally's room set because its job is done. Except it isn't, and Eddie became aware somehow.

He sees Home, his friend, and something isn't right

I don't know what this is: my first thought was that it was Home's hand crank, and Eddie was seeing but not understanding the puppets behind the scenes

"Sources say, however, that this puppet’s (Home's) eyes could move through a hand crank on the other side of the prop facing away from the camera."

-(welcomehomerestorationproject.net)

His friend's eyes look dead but they're moving, I thought. But looking at it again, it looks more like a microphone stand a Show staff is holding? Some sort of set equipment. Speaking of the set

Wally's room is too big and leads to nowhere. Is this a visual representation for Eddie's mental state? Did they literally turn the lights off on set? Or can he not see everything right now because his poor fictional brain can't handle our reality just yet?

His hands are fuzzy but there's something in them. Something was under his skin just now. They don't feel like his hands.

"Eddie was a live-hand puppet who required two puppeteers to operate."

-(welcomehomerestorationproject.net)

I imagine he's in a limbo of awareness, he's seeing so many things and not quite understanding what they are, and he's getting more lost and panicked

Can you imagine how overstimulating it must be to go from a clean, happy children's fantasy reality to a world with the laws of physics?

The clock's ticking doesn't quiet down and it's constant. He's sweating when nothing is wrong (?). Gravy was poured on the tree ornament, he's always helped do that, but now it's dripping onto the floor and it's making a gross mess. Little things like that don't have consequences unless the script calls for it. Eddie doesn't know that, and especially he's freaked out by the breathing and the heartbeat.

Maybe it's Home's, or his own, or both, idk.

What's curious is that Frank and Sally are fine and talking about the day's events. This means that Eddie should've been fine after the episode too, relaxed like normal, but he didn't get to. He probably didn't even know when they got there or when Sally left.

This image right here? I think it symbolises the scary clash between both realities by now.

2 (Eddie and Wally) or 4 (counting Sally and Home) out of 9 neighbours being aware is too many. Frank wasn't supposed to have to comfort Eddie. The episode was supposed to end and Eddie can see all of it.

(and yeah maybe romance is an additional factor here)

We don't know if people remember seeing this scene on their televisions. Maybe the episode ended as normal for them. The cameras weren't rolling, so currently, we only get to witness the puppets' descent into decay because someone behind the television is Letting The Neighbourhood In, bit by bit.

Maybe we'll get to see all the other puppets go through the same awareness crisis as the website keeps updating. Personally, I don't think there's an ulterior motive for Home, nor do I think any of the puppets are under strict supervision to behave a certain way for filming episodes, like celebrities.

What freaks me out is that they banter with the narrator and do commercials for real products. They're aware of the fourth wall but only because the fourth wall let them be aware. And it even got me thinking about the nature of existing as a concept (they're fictional characters. they don't really exist? Not in the same way individual humans do anyway. They aren't really supposed to belong to themselves.)

Sorry this turned into ramble rubbish, these are just my thoughts, could be entirely wrong about everything. Welcome Home is just super neat and the amount of effort gone into it shows. Lemme know what yall think, kudos if you read this far

For your troubles 🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍯🥛🍵☕🍶

Extra note: I don't think they require the puppeteers to function outside of episodes either. They just live their lives chilling, don't even know there's a Show. Maybe there's an explanation but for now I'm content with 'it's magic'.

That being said I've seen other theories about the peas and the isolation of Eddie specifically those are real neat

#my post #welcome home #welcome home puppet show #welcome home spoilers #eddie dear #derealization #personal stuff #welcome home theory

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anxi-aashi · 2 months

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ok i dont have the energy to put this into a fic rn but i CANT stop thinking about college au! childe almost walking in on you while you're getting yourself off.

like he'd still knock of course, but it would scare the absolute shit out of you. instead of hanging out with your roommates that he's friends with (who are most certainly NOT gathered in your room) he'd be all "hey pookie can i come bother you I'm bored," while you're fully sat on a dildo.

and bc you wouldnt want to seem suspicious, you'd say sure, just a sec! and immediately run to throw the sopping wet toy into your bathroom sink before letting him in.

and he's just too observant for his own good. "hey you ok? you seem out of breath" yeah because you were.... working out! "really? you're not sweating though?" CHILDE DROP IT OMFG but he wouldn't. he just asks so many goddamn questions and you honestly can't tell if he's just fuckign with you or if he's just genuinely concerned for you. what were you doing? pilates? so thats why you're walking a bit weird? how tf were you not sweating after pilates? oh you just started? well sorry to interrupt!

yeah.... you're sorry too -_-

but hes here now so you offer to watch a movie and hang out, nevermind the cum threatening to run down your leg. "sure! you pick smth out and ill go to the bathroom real quick!" he says and curse your post-orgasm clouded mind for not being quick enough to warn him bc now he's standing in front of you, dildo in his hand, looking at you knowingly.

youre mortified obviously. the two of you are cordial but not THAT close and god you can almost picture the slick and cum that's smearing all over his hand now. why is he holding it for fucks sake???

childe wouldnt be merciful either -- this is a fucking gold mine for him. "well, i guess this is a workout" and you would like the earth to swallow you up so that you don't have to look at him with that shit-eating grin that's creeping up his face.

hed switch the dildo to his other hand and start opening and closing his fingers together, making webs of cum string in between. "you said you just started?" no, you'd have to refute, that part was a lie.

"and you were getting off with this?" and now WHAT was that supposed to mean bc there was truly nothing wrong with the dildo size!!! it was perfectly fine, it did its job. sure it could be a tad bit longer, but you had bills to pay. he lets it go (with a judgemental eyebrow raise), but when he opens his mouth again to ask "what were you doing?" you almost wish he had kept making fun of your tiny ass toy. "were you using your hands or the suction cup?"

god he'd have a dangerous look on his face by now, lidded eyes looking at you like you were gonna be his next meal; pitching his voice just a tad bit lower just to see you squirm.

"you don't have to answer, but i would really, really like to know." aaaaaand there it goes. there's goes the last bit of your sanity bc huhh?? huuuuhh??? dear lord i would fully melt into a puddle we love a man that can make consent sexy.

fuck it, right? yeah, you were using the suction cup. "yeah? you like riding dick?" SHFBAN;DNSJF;F GODDDD

"you got any other toys?" yes sirrr yes I do, got a vibrator right over there in the nightstand. and duh now he's gotta follow up with "ever use both?"

which you have. who hasn't? but you usually only use it for quickies, you say. don't want it to be over too fast, ya know?

but then. thennnnnn he'd hit you with this: "you still horny?"

lorddddd you have NO idea, but you don't say that lest it get to his head (but lets be honest, he knows what he's doing; he knows how desperate he's making you). so he walks up to you, finally, and hands you your dildo, all sticky and starting to dry by now.

"well don't stop on my account."

and he plops down on your bed, manspreading just the tiiiiiniest bit to where you can see the tent in his pants.

which is how you find yourself back in your desk chair, thighs burning from fucking yourself on a dildo you now know is much smaller than whatever childe is packing while he just watches, palming his cock over his pants.

anyways gonna go work on my wips now lolololololololoolo

#snail.writes #snai.rambles #childe x reader #childe #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #childe smut #tartaglia smut #genshin impact smut

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wheatnoodle · 10 months

Text

i love you, evangeline

og post | p1 | p2 | p3 | p4

~🌷🌻~

“evie, babe, darling, my love. you gotta stop stressing so much. dustin’s going to like whatever you make, everything you cook is great. you’re going to pace holes into the floor and we won’t get our security deposit back,” robin says and places her hands on evie’s shoulders. the girl’s been panicking over the pasta on the stovetop, having already restarted her sauce for the third time now.

“i- i know, i know. but it’s not…about the food, robs,” evie says and tips her head back to face the ceiling once she feels tears welling behind her eyes. she can’t let her mascara run. it’s expensive.

“honey, hey,” robin is snatching a napkin off the counter to dab at evie’s waterline, her other hand cupping her face. “dustin is going to love you, no matter what. do you know how long he’s been waiting for this day? every time i see or talk to him, it’s all ‘where’s steve why are you hiding him is he dead can i see him’. he’s going to be over the moon.”

“that’s just it, robin. he misses steve and i’m not him. what if he’s disappointed, or disgusted, or he hates me, or he won’t accept it? oh my god, i don’t know if i can do this,” she can feel her breathing picking up and robin is instantly placing her hands on her shoulders.

“okay, no, hey, we’re not going to do that. we are not panicking. everything is going to go amazing. nothing bad is going to happen. you just finished a glass of wine, your emotions are gettin’ high, you are okay. we are okay. let’s breathe, yeah?” slowly, she guides evie through deep breaths, rubbing her shoulders all throughout. after a few moments, evie shuts her eyes, a sigh of relief leaving her body and her shoulders dropping. she pulls robin into a hug.

“you’re right. everything’s okay. thanks,” she mumbles into her shoulder.

“anytime. now, get out of your head, dingus. if you burn this sauce, i’m not letting you start over again,” robin smirks and pulls back to finish her setting of the small kitchen table.

just as she finishes lighting the candles in the center of the table, there’s a knock to the tune of “skunk in the barnyard”. robin’s head snaps over to evie, seeing the girl freeze just as she was about to fill their glasses.

“okay…here we go,” robin whispers and walks to the door. she pulls it open, stepping in the doorway to greet the kid, well adult, on the other side. “dustin!”

“robin!” dustin answers her cheer, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug that’s got her feet off the ground.

“oh my god, i’ve missed you so much. when did you grow?!” robin laughs once he puts her down and they pull back to look each other in the eye.

“everyone keeps asking me that! i’ve missed you too,” he smiles and she can still see the kid he used to be. “also, what on earth is that smell because if i don’t get to consume whatever that is immediately, things may get violent.”

“that, me dear nerd, would be ms evangeline’s cooking awaiting us inside,” she smiles proudly, tilting her chin back as she prepares herself. she steps out of the way to let him in.

“dude, you didn’t tell me she can cook too! and you mean you haven’t proposed to her-“ dustin freezes as he’s about halfway through the entryway, the table in view. evie stands up straight, her cheeks tinging pink as her nerves spiked.

“dustin…” evie says softly, her voice wavering just slightly. she watches as he looks her all over. from her long, loosely curled hair, to the sparkly earrings and her makeup, pausing briefly on her figure, before going back to her face. “hey.”

“oh my god…” dustin breathes out and he’s moving in an instant. he rushes forward and his arms are tight around her waist, squeezing hard. “oh my god! oh my god, you’re alive.”

“i’m alive. i’m here,” she sniffles, one arm going around his neck, the other ruffling his hair. she doesn’t bother to fight her own tears this time when she feels and hears dustin crying in her shoulder.

“i can’t believe you’re you. holy shit,” he cries out years of waiting, years of wondering, years of confusion and betrayal. he’s so…relieved. “i missed you.”

“i missed you too, kid. fuck, i missed you.” they hold on for a few more minutes, not a word shared before dustin decides to pull back. his face is red and tear stained but he has a smile evie hasn’t seen since eddie woke up in the hospital.

“you look so good! ohohoh this is amazing!” dustin gushes, giggling excitedly. robin’s leaning against the counter with a huge smile and tears of her own she’s not so subtly trying to wipe away.

“really? you’re…okay with this?” evie asks, every ounce of insecurity dripping into her voice as she looks down at herself.

“are you kidding me? dude, i love you. every form of you. i thought you died! oh shit, should i not call you dude?” dustin pauses, eyes wide and a hand coming to cover his mouth.

“what? oh, no! dude’s fine,” she clarifies, a bit awkward.

robin snorts and walks closer, taking her own turn in ruffling dustin’s hair. “trust, she’ll let you know when somethings not.”

“so…does this mean i can stay here instead of the hotel?” dustin glances between them with his best puppy eyes.

robin and evie look over at each other, a quick silent conversation. “well i guess you can,” evie says dramatically and drops into her seat at the table.

she hides her smile behind her wine glass at dustin’s whoop of excitement.

~🌷🌻~

taggie waggies:

@lololol-1234 @xo-r4e @paintsplatteredandimperfect @homohomohoe @charlies-candid-corner @tartarusfairy @howincrediblysapphicofyou @steddie-as-they-go @bestwifehaver @sexymothmanincarnate @zoeweee @romanticdestruction @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @breadboi66 @shadowofaliar @mollymawkwrites @lofaewrites @estrellami-1 @ronance-is-my-wife @afewproblems @heartsong18 @discount-izukumidoriya @mightbeasleep @bookbinderbitch @justforthedead89 @onehandedbitch @anxiouseds @sunfloweringstories @cyranyx @thegingerrapunzel @hequet @herebedragons404 @magpiemuseum @scheodingers-muppet @the-ghost-in-your-curtains @background-noise-headache @steddieloverrr @punctualhowell @musical-theatre-gay

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outsideratheart · 10 months

Text

The Bet (Alexia Putellas x reader)

A/N: Based off this request

“Chicas!” You shout just before the team return to the pitch for the second half “here’s a little incentive for you in case lifting that trophy isn’t enough. If we win this then I will get a tattoo to celebrate”

The look of disbelief on every player’s face would have been funny under any other circumstance but you wanted them to know that you were very serious. Your body was a blank canvas and getting a tattoo never interested you even when some of your closest friends begged you to get one. Ink wasn’t really your thing, hair dye on the other hand well that was how you expressed yourself. You had tried every colour under the sun and then repeated it.

Alexia on the other hand loved to use her body as art and every single tattoo on her skin told a story. Her hair up until her injury had been brunette. When you told her that her tearing her ACL is like a bad break up, she has to learn to move on so he decided to do the typical thing after any break up, she died her hair and you loved the blonde more than the previous colour.

Knowing that you and Alexia have a competitive relationship they all looked at their captain to see if she would rise to your bet.

“You know what! If we go out there and pull off one of the greatest comebacks in Champions League history I will die my hair”

The team couldn’t believe what they are hearing.

Your word was your bond and you never went back on your word. Alexia was a woman who when made a promise, always kept it. It made you both incredibly trustworthy but as the final whistle is blown you cannot help but think your good word had gotten you in trouble.

“We won” Alexia pulled you close as you walked over to where your families were.

“Baby, we’re fucked! We can’t go back on this” Inside you were panicking. Alexia’s promise could be temporary but yours was permanent.

“Don’t be such a wuss. How about this? You can pick my hair colour if I get it pick your tattoo”

You loved half of this plan. You already had a colour in mind but whilst you did trust Alexia with your life, you couldn’t guarantee that her choosing what is going to be on your body for the rest of your life is a good idea.

“Trust me, you’ll like what I have planned”

“Fine but you’re dying your hair pink”

Alexia’s eyes widen at your choice of colour but having been the person to suggest the idea, she couldn’t exactly go back on it now.

After playing Panama, the national team was given three days off before having to report back to camp. Alexia had told you that she had designed your tattoo with the help of Mapi and she had booked an appointment for you at the studio where her and the rest of the girls go for their tattoos. You had also made a call to your hair stylist and asked them if they could squeeze Alexia in the morning before you would get your tattoo in the afternoon.

“And this woman knows what she’s doing” on the outside Alexia was cool as a cucumber but as you walk down the streets of Barcelona she is holding onto your hand for dear life.

“She has been doing my hair for years Alexia. You are in safe hands”

You walked into the salon and greeted everyone as if they were family. Alexia stayed close behind you as you guide her to the chair in the fair back corner.

“So what are we doing doing?” Your hair stylist ran her fingers through Alexia’s hair as your girlfriend looked at you through the mirror.

“Pink but a light pink”

“What! No! If I’m doing this then I’m doing it. I want it like Y/N’s after her first appointment post COVID”

“Ale, that was really pink”

“I know, I loved it”

The hair stylist did as she was told and a couple of hours later Alexia was walking out the salon almost unrecognisable.

Now it was your turn and you felt sick as you walked in the studio which was tucked down one of the side street in Sants.

“Does it hurt? It’s got to hurt, there is a needle piercing your skin at 100 miles an hour and it’s injecting ink. Oh God! Why did I even agree to do this, I can’t do this”

“Y/N take a breath” Alexia’s hands rested on your shoulders. She took a deep breath in, one which you copied almost immediately “I think you will really like my design and if you don’t then we will tell the team that I made you get it on your bum which they will believe because—“

“You are obsessed with my bum” you finished your girlfriend’s sentence.

“I am so they will believe me but please take a look at the design”

“Ok”

The artist, who you had learnt was also the owner, sat you down on the sofa as she showed you the design and at different sizes. You had no control over the smile on your face as you saw what Alexia had come up with.

“It’s like yours”

“It is. I thought why not kill two birds with one stone. The tattoo would commemorate the final and it would be a matching one to mine”

The tattoo was perfect. It was an outline of a basic flower within a square. The pattern was seen all around Barcelona as it was a tile that covered the pavement. Alexia has the same one on her back with ‘made in’ above it. Yours wouldn’t have the text and instead of the ink being black it would be blue and red, Blaugrana the colours of FC Barcelona.

Once laid on the bench Alexia offered to hold your hand in case the pain is too much.

“Is it really going to hurt that much?” You ask the tattoo artist who reassured you that the pain would be nothing compared to some of the tackles you have been on the receiving end of over the years.

“Ale!” You smack her with your free hand.

“Sorry. It’s just that i’m used to seeing you as this tough cookie”

“I’m never a tough cookie around you, you make me soft”

Alexia kisses you softly, the two of you forgetting your surroundings until the artist clears her throat.

“Soft cookie or tough cookie, I do need to to sit still or this won’t end well”

“Don’t say that” Don’t tell her that” you and Alexia say at the same time.

When the two of your arrived back to Los Rojas two days later the entire team was in shock and fascinated to see Alexia’s pink hair but only the barcelona players knew about your side of the bet. You removed your hoodie to show them the tattoo which you had decided to get on your arm, just about your elbow.

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas one shot #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni one shot #barcelona femeni imagine #espwnt x reader #espwnt one shot #espwnt imagine

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lucozadehulahoop · 5 months

Text

A Question of Time (Astarion x f!reader/tav) part 3/?

Chapter summary: Astarion makes his choice, but his actions don't go unnoticed. Call it divine intervention.

A.N: Big thank you for the massive love on this! I've only been posting this fic for three days and the response has been overwhelming! I appreciate every single comment and it really keeps me motivated. The tag list will be posted below the cut because it's getting a bit long ahh.

Tags and T.W.:pre-bg3!Astarion, slave!Astarion, mentions of torture and abuse, demi-goddess!tav, eventual NSFW (minors stay away kindly, thank you darlings)

warning for this chapter: seggsual sention (eh more just dorks being dorks)

part 1 part 2 part 4

"Astarion, favored soul, I send you my own flesh and blood to remove you from harm, yet you do not take your chance to flee..." An ethereal voice sang to Astarion as he tried to make sense of his own surroundings.

Slowly he began to recognize the cemetery, the tombstones, his own grave... how had he ended up back there?

The moon shined brightly down on him, and slowly the origin of that voice materialized itself right in front of him.

Astarion may have not been a believer, but he could recognize a goddess when he saw one. Much like in her many popular depictions, Sehanine wore what resembled a black silk gown, the very fabric that created the shadows she was a patron of. Her hair was black and white, her skin deep blue like the ocean, and her eyes the shape of twin moons. Many were the elves who worshiped 'the Moonweaver ' dutifully.

Sehanine was also the only diety criminals and tricksters seemed to cling to. A favor from the patron of illusions and misdirection could make the difference between the success or failure of a deed carried out under the cover of night.

But she was not only the goddess those who worked in secrecy and trickery often asked for a blessing from. Love was the biggest blessing tied to her name, and many cursed her for being the protector of lovers who steeled away for a tryst in the night.

"Do not be afraid, Pale One." She smiled at him eerily. "I appear to you now to give you guidance. I am sure by now you recognize me, even though on this plane I have come to be known to many as Selùne in these times, but you have been alive since the days of the old creed..."

"Y-yes--" Astarion stammered, never once having thought he'd be entertaining a conversation with a diety.

"I know you have not once believed in anything that was not material, and I am not here to test your faith, little vampire. I have been guiding your journey through this world ever since you began to display all of those qualities that are so dear to me... the Moon has been your close ally in all of your deeds..." The goddess proclaimed. "I look out for my own, but now... you go against my design to deliver you from your wretched master. Why is it so?"

It was quite a hefty amount of information to take in all at once. Not to mention preposterous. Guidance? Protection? If Astarion had been so favored by the gods, why in the seven hells had he been crushed underneath Cazador's heel for two hundred years?

The anger didn't take long to boil up inside of him. "No. No, forgive me, your holiness, but there has to be some kind of mistake here." Astarion sneered. "I think you've got the wrong Astarion, because this one has been attacked by the Gur, turned into a vampire, and subjected to two centuries of torture at the hands of a maniac!"

Sehanine smiled down at him once more, almost as if Astarion's lament was something to be amused by. "It is not up to me to explain the trials and tribulations of mortal life, dear one... If I directly interfered with the lives of every being I wished to influence in a constant manner, then other gods would want the same and war would surely break out amongst us. I would not come to you if I did not fear great peril on the horizon. Your Master, Cazador Szaar, has joined a league with dark, dangerous forces... forces that are enemies to myself and other entities that keep the balance between good and-"

Astarion scoffed. "I fail to see, how any of this is my concern."

The goddess's eyes became pitch black and her form started to warp into something far more sinister. "Count yourself lucky I consider your quick wit as a quality, but do not make the mistake of disrespecting me again, vampire spawn." She threatened in a booming voice. "You will be turned into a sacrificial lamb to your Master's ascension to near-godliness if you do not flee now, underneath my daughter's protection."

Astarion was silent for a very long while. In fact, he could not tell how much time had passed before she finally spoke again, her voice once again gentle.

"I will not have one of my own be involved in this abomination of a rite. In fact, I will make sure Tav stops this event from coming to pass so that she may meet her destiny."

Astarion couldn't stop himself from speaking his mind once again, even at the cost of being punished by the divine. "Meet her destiny? Surely... surely you must know how powerful Cazador is. I mean, I've seen what your darling daughter can do, but she doesn't seem to have a single mean bone in her body and you might risk losing her-"

"Tav must die for Cazador and the rest of the evil he's created to be eradicated for good." Was the goddess's simply put answer.

"But... she's your daughter." Astarion failed to understand until it finally clicked in his head. "You---you set her up like a lamb for slaughter. This is why she couldn't keep away from me? Because you made her come to my rescue every time? And now she's... Hells, she's getting rid of Cazador for you and dying in the process because you can't look bad in front of your god pals? What happened to looking out for your own?"

"I may have brought her into this world, but she is not one of my own." The Moonweaver clarified." Too sweet, too good-natured. The only thing I can truly recognize is her beauty. But no, I have not spoken to her, ever. I thought it best she did not know the pain of who she truly is, nor how she will meet her end. I simply know how and when it will come to pass. Yet, it was quite surprising to see how deeply attuned to your pain she is... and in the grand scheme of things it drew her like a moth to a flame, right into Cazador's grasp..."

Astarion began to feel violently ill, and he couldn't understand why. "Wait, what do you mean, what are you talking about---"

"Oh hush now, don't tell me you care for her? I would find that hard to believe..." She grinned, her very nature compelled to be intrigued by displays of affection, especially when they bloomed in the most unlikely of circumstances."However, I must go now, little vampling. But do not worry, Tav will be remembered, I will personally make sure to immortalize her in the stars for her valiant sacrifice."

"No!" Astarion cried out as he thrashed on the floor, suddenly regaining consciousness underneath Tav's tear-brimmed eyes.

She had been trying desperately to bring the pale elf back to consciousness after he'd dropped to the ground unexpectedly, his red eyes rolled to the back of his head and his body wracked by convulsions.

"Astarion!" She shook him a little more for good measure. "Astarion stay with me!" Tav let out a little sob, never having come across a physical ailment she hadn't been able to cure.

"Hells below..." Astarion cursed, slowly managing to sit up as he caught up with what had just happened.

Tav was quite a sight for a creature who hardly ever seemed to be affected by anything. Tear-stained cheeks, her hands twisting in the fabric of her dress. Astarion couldn't recall the last time someone had ever displayed worry over him. And now that he knew the truth about so many things, he didn't deem himself worthy of it. "Cheer up, sweet, I'm alright." He couldn't help but say, pinching her nose softly between his curled fingers.

"Alright?!" Tav barked at him, huffing and shooing his hand away. "You dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes and then you started convulsing!" She accused as if Astarion had done so on purpose. "You were completely unresponsive for almost half of an hour! How often does this happen for you to think it's alright?"

Astarion could think of a million things to say. A close encounter with Tav's dear old mom being the explanation at the forefront of his mind. But the implications of that conversation having undeniably taken place (considering it hadn't been just some weird dream as he'd liked to have hoped) were too painful to consider. He should have been thinking about the fact that Cazador planned to sacrifice him. He should have been burning with rage at the mere thought of his death aiding his captor on the path to becoming god-like.

Instead, all he could do was laugh, enjoying the way it riled up Tav even more. "Like a what? Darling, I must say my likeliness has been compared to many things in my lifetime, but a sack of potatoes has certainly never made the list..."

"Oh well, then may I suggest that 'obtuse ass' also be included?" She retorted, getting in his face as she was completely unamused by the way he was belittling her concern.

"Do you spend a lot of time thinking about the shape of my backside?" Astarion tilted his head closer too, meaning to snap back at Tav, but instantly realizing his words had come out quite a bit softer than intended.

"I-I don't see how that's relevant..." Tav whispered, mimicking his tone as her pupils turned into the size of saucers.

"You're the one who brought it up..." Astarion shrugged, as he had a very private laugh within himself at Tav's expense. She was so gullible, he could have eaten her up.

"No! You have misunderstood me. Please, I apologize if I have made you feel--" Tav was in the middle of expressing a sincere apology when she realized Astarion could no longer contain the amusement he was having at her expense. "You are despicable!" She huffed, doing a poor attempt at shoving at his chest before getting herself back up on her feet.

Astarion chose to admire her a few seconds more from where he was sitting on the ground. "Now that, my darling... is something I've definitely been called before."

Tav crossed her arms over her chest as she adamantly checked on his capability to stand back up on his feet again. "How will you know it won't happen again?" She asked him seriously, referring to the episode that had just transpired.

"No, I'm pretty sure I'll get called 'despicable' again for days to come." Astarion attempted to avoid the question.

"I meant you fainting!" Tav insisted.

"I've... got a pretty good idea of what I need to do to stop it from happening again." Running away from this hellhole, and leaving you here none the wiser, so I don't get any more friendly reminders from your mother, Astarion thought to himself as he swallowed down a knot in his throat. He looked out the window and recognized the familiar hues of light. The day was coming and he wasn't going to be able to leave until it was over.

Astarion needed to get his affairs in order and rest. Staying simply wasn't an option.

Not to mention, he was practically starving.

His gaze began to linger extensively on Tav as she stared into the fireplace.

"You've been up all night, darling---" Astarion snapped out of his reverie and began to fret as he started closing all the window panes, making sure not a single ray of light would be able to break through. "Surely, surely it would be good for you to get some rest, no? In your room that is --- far, far away from me, I mean- I have tasks to do now. Servants are terribly, terribly busy people, you see---" He continued to ramble as he not so subtly nudged Tav out of his room, guiding her to the door. "I must get to my work-"

"But you are clearly unwell! You're the one who must rest, Astarion. You're even paler than usual-" Tav protested, turning into his arms to look up at him in defiance once more.

"May the gods help me -- no, actually let's leave them out of this -- must you stick your pretty little nose in everything I do? I can take care of myself and I'm not the helpless little critter you seem to think you've stumbled upon-" Astarion had intended on pushing Tav out of the room, but all he was doing in actuality was bringing her closer to his body.

"Well, you've certainly given me plenty of proof on that front haven't you?" Tav spat and twisted her hands in his worn-out shirt.

Just like that, they were back to arguing again, except this time it wasn't amusing for either of them.

"Proof? Is that what you want?" Astarion asked her, losing his last nerve to hunger and exhaustion.

The curtain fell, and Tav looked back into the face of a vampire.

---

A.N: hehe, oh how I like to tease you so. Okay real talk, this is now an ongoing fic. Truly, you guys have given me so much love, and I'm overwhelmed. I'm really enjoying writing this story and I thank you all for joining the ride. stay tuned for part 4!

This story is also on Ao3 btw, for the people who prefer reading it there.

tag list (if you want to be added to the tag list, just let me know!): @d0nutkaky0in @i-just-want-to-sleep-97 @omggiannarosa @dead-giirl-walking @warbwarts @mrsfullbuster500 @uwomina @iyaesakura @cheeslyy @dragon-kazansky @bambamwolf87 @chibi-chi @orsomethingelseentirely @davenswitcher @adequate-superstar @ophelias-flowerss @tragedybunny @yaimlight @the-golden-ouroboros @candyladycry @babygirlbrainrot @mariposakitten @blobs-away @biganddrunkunicorn @astarionmisc @the-garbage-central @raviolixxx

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion fic #astarion smut #astarion angst #astarion ancunin #astarion fluff #bg3 astarion #bg3 x you #bg3 x tav #bg3 x reader #astarion x female reader #astarion x female tav #astarion x f!tav #astarion x f!reader

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starsandhughes · 6 months

Text

Penalty Box Series— Trevor Zegras Edition (Four)

23-24 Season Masterlist

previous: three

next: five

a/n: i skipped the coyotes game bc it was... so boring... and there was zero z content in it

OCTOBER 22, 2023

yourusername

liked by trevorzegras, jamie.drysdale, and 16,439 others

yourusername welcome back to my post game penalty box update show: sissy missed shatty edition! (alternatively titled "my fiancée took a hard hit and then looked like the greek god he is on the bench and i can't wait to take a trip to mount olympus")

after a long two periods of almosts, mason finslly scored first in the third! thst scoring momentum fid continue, though! just... for the other team...

the ducks did succumb to the bruins, but my z-baby got a penalty! so that's a plus! he slashed marchand and he didn't even get licked! (dear brad, if you're reading this, please lick my fiancé on october 26)

i'm sorry, boys, that you're on a three game lose streak, but i can feel it in my SOUL that you're going to cease that trend soon! use the power of friendship, my dear quackies!

i love you, always, trevy💜 pls do a trick soon! and you looked really cute smiling and watching shatty's video on the bench! prepare for kisses

p.s. dear mom/shatty, I HAVE MISSED YOU SO MUCH! SEEING YOUR VIDEO MONTAGE TRIBUTE ON THE SCOREBOARD HAD ME TEARING UP! I LOVE YOU! DON'T DIE! (@/shattdeuces)

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trevorzegras am i cute? or am i god like? what's the scale here? is there a graphic organizer? (i love you, forever, my sweet girl💜)

yourusername the graphic organizer is my internal feelings and there's never a rhyme or reason for any decision i make <3

jackhughes @/yourusername so just like how you make every other decision?

yourusername @/jackhughes i could smack you, there's rhyme and reason for that decision

trevorzegras @/jackhughes she's going to set you on fire

jackhughes @/trevorzegras she failed the first time and she will fail again

_alexturcotte @/jackhughes why would you bring up senior year? people can read that

jackhughes @_alexturcotte the people need to know she's insane!

trevorzegras @/jackhughes USED* to be insane

_alexturcotte @/jackhughes don't act all innocent!we didn't call you two the twins of terror for nothing

yourusername @/jackhughes lexi sold you OUT HA

user52 z in this game has me acting up🥵

_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras what's your record streak this season? is it 5, like me?

trevorzegras @_quinnhughes in my defense, one of my penalties was me serving a too many men

yourusername @/trevorzegras and then you hooked hakanpää

_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras you did do that

trevorzegras i came out to have a good time and i’m honestly feeling so attacked right now

yourusername @/trevorzegras mwah!

shattdeuces i love and have missed you, too, daughter! p.s. your post-game goody bag made the other guys very jealous!

yourusername i hope you didn't share anything!

shattdeuces i would never betray you like that

yourusername i appreciate your never ending loyalty <3 where are we on the whole "marchand licking z" thing?

shattdeuces i am not asking him that

yourusername ... accidentally show him my post then

trevorzegras @/shattdeuces please no

yourusername @/trevorzegras just bite him in return

_quinnhughes i’d pay to see that

trevorzegras @/shattdeuces SEND HELP

shattdeuces @/trevorzegras i laughed and he asked what i was laughing at. it's in his hands now.

yourusername @/trevorzegras he lick, you bite, i smooch

trevorzegras @/yourusername that smooch better just be for me

yourusername @/trevorzegras my smooches are only for you

user45 trevor nudging terry to look at the video board before going back to smiling like a fool at it makes me so emo🥹😭 give him shatty back!

jamie.drysdale @/trevorzegras you're not in the negatives yet! that's an accomplishment!

yourusername so true!! he's thriving!

trevorzegras i’m growing up so fast!

jamie.drysdale @/yourusername remember when he was our son? now he's the father of your future children

trevorzegras @/jamie.drysdale she's now crying under my shirt

jamie.drysdale @/trevorzegras i’m on my way

trevorzegras @/jamie.drysdale she's requesting blankets so we can build a fort

jamie.drysdale @/trevorzegras i'm on my way home to get blankets

user9 slash that rat! he deserves it!

user14 the seventh pic shows the face of a man who knows damn well his teammate started a scrum over him

jackhughes you're so obsessed with him

yourusername he's my baby daddy for a reason

trevorzegras @/jackhughes i've been obsessed since the day i saw her

jackhughes @/trevorzegras we know

yourusername and i was obsessed with my rat the day i saw trevor

trevorzegras @/yourusername we know.

colecaufield @/trevorzegras ooo a period! there are some big feelings in those two words

_alexturcotte @/trevorzegras this is taking me back to the good ol' days when you'd come into the room screaming over matthew! so cute!

trevorzegras is it attack trevor day?!

_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras it's always attack trevor day

yourusername @/trevorzegras i love you! always!

trevorzegras @/yourusername mhmm i love you, forever

user76 three game loss streak? a z penalty? roughing penalties? that's ducks hockey, baby!

masonmctavish23 did i just get a backhanded compliment?

yourusername no?

masonmctavish23 am i being gaslighted?

yourusername gaslighting? that's a big word, kiddo, did one of your little friends teach you that?

masonmctavish23 my friends are your friends and your fiancé!

yourusername well they definitely didn't teach you that

trevorzegras @/yourusername HEY

jamie.drysdale @/yourusername HEY

yourusername @/trevorzegras @/jamie.drysdale hi?

lhughes_06 @/jackhughes @_quinnhughes were we just going to let the "trip to mount olympus" comment slide?

_quinnhughes @/lhughes_06 i’ve given up

jackhughes @/lhughes_06 i threw up in the comfort of your bathroom in peace and moved on

yourusername @/lhughes_06 @/jackhughes @_quinnhughes you guys do know how i got pregnant, right?

trevorzegras @/yourusername i think i need a refresher course

lhughes_06 @/trevorzegras STOP IT

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lains-reality · 8 months

Text

Once a young woman came to Hafiz and said, “What is the sign of someone knowing God?” And Hafiz became very quiet and stood in silence for nearly a minute. Lovingly looking deep into the young woman's eyes, he then softly spoke: “My dear, they have dropped the knife. The person who knows God has dropped the cruel knife so often used upon their tender self and others.”[source]

please give yourself the grace of forgetting, of being sad, of failing, of fearing. you are allowed to. all is Self. you are okay now and here.

allow yourself to look at the insecurities, shame, guilt and fears.

give yourself the chance to respond, not react.

let vanessa be. vanessa is just a person like anyone else. thinks they are born and will die. every vanessa, no matter how well off they are, is scared shitless. but you treat your vanessa so badly.

you hate it. you want it gone. you see the body and mind as a cage without a key. it hurts. you curse it and nothing changes. you try to convince it and nothing changes. you curse it more.

It is not a matter of enduring, it is a matter of you being so crude to Vanessa, and expecting so much of her when she has no power. Do you feel the same way about the homeless man on the street corner? Do you constantly chastise him in your head, blame him for his circumstances? Even if you are the kind of person to judge based on appearances, you do for a moment and move on with your life. That's because you never thought he was you so how could you feel pain on his behalf? You may do the opposite and feel bad for his situation for a bit, but you still leave the matter alone as he's none of your business and you have your own things to worry about. - post source

vanessa is doing the best it can. it sings, dances, loves! it bleeds, it shudders, it hurts. all is the wide expression of Self.

and yet you hide from the pain, from the hurt, from the thoughts, the feelings. this is not the fullness of Self.

forgive yourself. let go of the shame and guilt. stop shaming vanessa for exsiting just like any other person in the street. stop carrying all responsibilities of the world. it's already taken care of.

you breathe with no help, you shit with no help, you eat with no help, you sleep with no help. and even if you do need help, the inability to do so, happens without your help. your amazon package comes through, your sibling grows 2 cm, the sun rises and falls, the seasons pass by. all by itself. what's orchestrating it all? Self. what other reason have we given ourself the world, other than out of love?

Leave poor Vanessa alone and stop assigning her the responsibility and accountability of everything that the dream shows. The entire dream is all an expression of the Infinite Being, not hers (the ego) which she is just one more creation of. And it doesn't have to be your (the Self's/I AM's) dream anymore when you stop identifying with it. - post source

its already out of vanessa's hands. vanessa can't do anything. let that be a celebration: all is taken care of. unconditonally.

"why is it all taken care of?"

"why not!"

"but why should *i* get the world?"

"why not?"

"but-"

its already all here for you. its already as it is. what is vanessa gonna do to change the infinte? why would the infinite need changing anyway?

Treat it with compassion, stop bullying it, it's not its fault you're not where you should be. You think he's in the way so you get mad, you get frustrated it's not following instructions or refuses to step aside. But the ego is not the problem, nor in the way. Your attitude toward it is the problem. Let it be, it doesn't know any better! - post source

give yourself the permission to exist as you are. give yourself permission to be as you are, right now. start asking 'did i give permission for this?' you'll find how much stuff is not even your choice. as ada said its just tolerance and endurance of the forced vanessa.

now you realise you don't have to be a forced vanessa. so you go completely the other direction and try to (forcefully) change the vanessa. you're still holding up standards, ideas & roles to yourself. the things that made you hate vanessa in the first place. just maybe, for this moment hold nothing. drop the knife.

“Stop trying to heal yourself, fix yourself, even awaken yourself. Let go of letting go. Stop trying to fast-forward the movie of your life. It gets so exhausting, doesn’t it, always trying to get there, chasing futures that never seem to arrive, living on second-hand promises. Instead, bow deeply to yourself as you actually are. Be here. Honour this present scene in the movie. Your pain, your sorrow, your doubts, your deepest longings, your fearful thoughts, are not mistakes, and they aren’t asking to be healed. They are asking to be held. Here, now, lightly, in the loving arms of present awareness…” — Jeff Foster

#lainsreality #nondualism #non dualism #LISTEN TO THE VIDEO #i swear i'm still on break #the first quotes source = video

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twisted-wonderland-but-gayer · 7 months

Note

OP I am new to twisted wonderland but I saw the binding hc post and I uuuuuh have a request if that’s okay. My request is basically like, MC/Yuu who is AFAB and NB or Trans Masc who isn’t out. They get sorted into dorms or something and refuse to wear the uniforms because Tiddies are More Pronounced and that’s not cash gender of them. and they basically get into a fight with the dorm leaders that lead to them coming out while yelling and then just. The dorm leaders are like ???? Well shit that’s fixable why didn’t you say that earlier ??

Trans Yuu

Yuu is a trans dude in the middle of transitioning at the worst place to do it— NRC.

Notes: went in a wild direction lmao. Anyways FTM Yuu. Shitty jokes and cringe.

You are a 2010 Stefani Canturi Barbie and God is a mother going through her kid's toys to donate to the Bratz section at goodwill, you are sure of it. There is no way in hell it was coincidence that you ended up in an all-boys school filled with the stupidest people you met otherwise. Perhaps god just assumed you were both dolls so it doesn’t really matter what toy pile you were put in, and you don’t know if that is the biggest compliment you have received— to be compared to cis dudes— or an insult (these men fucking suck).

With all the running around you had to do the first day, no one was able to sniff you out, yet. Still, it didn't last that long, and it didn’t. Deuce was far too kind and dense to really tell what you were, and Grim was Grim. Ace on the other hand almost seemed to side-eye you at times. You tried to ignore it and pray to the goodwill mom that he doesn’t say anything, and surprisingly he didn’t, you got that stupid gem, celebrated, and went over to your crow overlord (who doesn’t even notice your predicament either) to turn it in and go the fuck home. Perhaps the only break you got was the fact that people here spoke a sort of similar language to you even if it was a bit… strange. Whatever, you can think tomorrow, right now you can make yourself comfortable and finally sleep uninterrupted.

And then that fucker from before came to you at one in the morning, after you have unbound yourself and got comfortable begging for you to let him sleep in your bed, strange collar on his neck. “No, Ace. You can make yourself comfortable on the couch.” You crossed your arms over your chest nervously and thankfully the dumbass didn't notice. “C’mon, c’mon, I’m super skinny! I won’t take up any space!” Ace pleaded. You and Grim looked at each other tiredly then back at Ace. “No.” You said before sighing and heading upstairs.

“Awwee!! Cmon!!!” “Cry about it.” You sneered, but as you ascended the steps you notice Ace watching you with that look in his eyes from earlier. He knows doesn’t he…

***

You may not know Trey and Cater well, but you owe them your life. The dumbass trio you were with despite living in this world their whole life could not tell you the most basic shit about it for the life of them. And even worse, despite two of them being selected for this university and one choosing to sneak in with plenty of time to research it beforehand (hell, Ace has a brother who went here), they both decided to go in completely blind and not understand anything at all.

Thankfully, your dear juniors seemed to take pity on you and actually took time to explain the bare fucking minimum for all four of your sakes. Yet as they explained everything to you in such sweet simplicity, you notice Trey look over to your form that you kept nervously wrapped up in the only oversized overcoat (that all Yuu’s in the manga have) to hide your figure. “Are you alright there Yuu?” He asks and you freeze.

“Yeah, it's just…” Trey frowned and adjusted his glasses out of concern. “Did Crowley provide any resources for you? It must be difficult being stuck here as a girl and all.” You pause and before you can speak you are interrupted. “YOU’RE WHAT.” The dumbass trio all yelled at once making you, Trey, and Cater all shut your eyes pensively. “Dude! I mean bro— I mean— Ugh!” Ace sputtered, and Deuce looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole and die with how much he was overthinking. Looking over at Trey, the regret on his face was obvious, and you can only assume he thought you told the other three. “You didn’t tell us you're a girl!” Ace yaps.

“I’m not, I’m a guy, I just…” Cater speaks up. “They got the wrong body babes, it's nbd.” The ginger strikes a selfie pose, “That's a thing???” Deuce stared wide-eyed. “Exactly!” You speak up. Trey clears his throat, looking even more ashamed. “Ah, my…. I’m sorry Yuu I didn’t know.” “It’s fine, you didn’t know, plus I guess it was obvious.” At that, the group around you went quiet.

“Uh no it wasn't ?” Ace crosses his arms. “Have you seen the guys in this school? Some of them straight up look like chicks!” “I thought you knew 'cause you were looking at me weird yesterday!” Ace’s face becomes slightly flustered. “I wasn’t staring—“ Ace stopped his excuse when he saw you and Trey glare. “Okay, fine I was! You happy?” “Why were you staring at them?” Grim asks unimpressed.

Ace gets even more flustered. “It's cause, well you know—“ Cater raises his brows and suppresses a knowing smile and a laugh to the best of his ability as he looks over at you. Ace huffs, “How did you not know Grim? You share a bed with them!” “Haaah? Don't change the subject—“ “Okay that's enough.”

Trey sighs. “Once again, I am very sorry about that Yuu, I thought—“ “It's okay Trey, you didn’t know… But also how did both of you know?” Cater winks, “Oh he’s just like that, babes. Trey-Kun attracts all sorts of fruit to him.” You snort and not how Trey seems to sigh, “Are you one of them?” Cater's eyes widen for a moment before he gives a chuckle. “Good one, but we’ve dealt with enough people in this school to tell by now, though. “So you both just have a gaydar, got it.” “Ooh I like that word, I’ll steal it from ya!” Cater winks again.

“In any case…” Trey adjusts his glasses again. “There's no need to sweat over it. You’ll fit in fine here, Yuu, however, I recommend that you bother Crowley for a spell or potion to get you switched to a new body as soon as possible so this conversation doesn't happen again.” Trey is putting on a brave face to hide his mortification of how he accidentally outed someone. “Crowley can be a real pain sometimes, but he will deliver on that at the very least. Until then you could probably get something from Sam’s for a temporary fix, though they will cost a small fee since they’re home-brewed, or brew your own potion.”

“Oh yeah, you guys have magic here for that stuff… that's crazy…” “Oh yeah, there’s no magic in your world huh Yuu-Kun?” Cater thinks for a moment, “Healthcare here includes that sorta care, but I imagine it’ll be a little difficult to apply for it since you're not from this world and stuff. Kinda hard to do that stuff if you don't exist here, huh?” Cater muses. “Alright, now let's get back to telling them about the dorms Trey!”

“Ah, one more thing, all of you.” Trey’s expression becomes more serious, and gestures to a table where two people— twins with teal hair sit together. “Be careful with Octavinelle students,” he warns, “especially those two. They work for their dorm leader, Azul. They’re scam artists, do not ever make a deal with any of them, especially you, Yuu. Do not tell them what you are.” “Why?” Cater nudges you. “They’ll totally be like ‘We can help you transition Yuu!’ And then your soul is theirs!”

“That’s no different from where I’m from.”

***

Ace and Deuce were a bit weird with you for the next few hours, before Grim got annoyed with them acting overly cautious and insulted them, which in turn made them all have an annoying argument that you got involved in, in which they treated you like one of the bros. You have to make a note to get Grim the world's most premium tuna for that later.

And when it came time to grab the tuna, you also had to check out Sam’s potion brewery, where you learned that Sam was a real cool dude. He’s a salesman at the end of the day, always looking for a profit, but at least he was fair. He never overpriced things and always knew how to make a good deal. And though you were prepared to drop nearly your whole allowance on a potion Sam seemed to stop you.

“Hey there little imp! Before you pick one of those out, what form are you lookin’ to take?” You look around for a moment, making sure no one was nearby. “I’m looking for a transitioning potion? I wanna be a dude…” You mutter. Anxiety brews in your gut as Sam leans in, keeping eye contact with you. The salesman then bounces back to his feet in an animated and theatrical manner. “Well, we got those iiiiiinnn STOCK! Lucky for you, we have all sorts to choose from!” Sam says before taking out crate after crate.

“Please, pick that one that calls to you.” You look at the vials nervously before pulling one out of the velvet casing they were carefully placed in. The liquid inside has the consistency of a purple, glittery syrup. “That's a great one!” Sam says. “One small issue though.” Oh god here it comes, by picking up the vial you probably should your soul to him and you're gonna be doomed to work here the rest of your life.

“That's gonna be temporary, little imp! Not good for the long term. The Mystery Shop cannot sell permanent potions for these unless you have a prescription, but my little friends from the other side say that you ain’t from these parts.” Sam smiles. “Take 4, on the house! And drink them all at once, that should give you around 4 and half months in that form!” “Really? Are you sure!” Sam nods, “Course! It's not a loss at all either, I get compensated to give em out anyways! Do be sure to tell Crowley to get you a permanent one though! Or it may be quicker to ask that professor of yours!”

“Thank you Mr.Sam! I’ll keep it in mind.”

***

Crowley is an asshole, a real bitch, and one of the most annoying people you know. But at least he can be reasonable once in a blue moon. When bringing up needing a potion he merely went on a 30-minute rant on how he’ll get a prescription for you because he’s “oh so generous” and totally not because he’s probably a fruit too like everyone else in this school.

You expected this process of getting a prescription to be a very annoying and long wait, just for you to receive the paper later allowing it less than an hour later. Sam did say that asking Professor Crewel for a good potion would be better than asking him since he’s certified to make them. Given how extra he is with everything too, you're sure any potion by him would be insane. So here you were, head down and begging that this man help you, one alphabet soup to another.

“Let me get this straight. You want me to make you a prescription potion for you, rather than get it from Sam’s because you think I would make a better one.” You nod, and Crewel could tell there wasn't any flattery behind your words, you truly believed what you said. “Sam didn’t put you up to this did he?” “I mean he mentioned you could help but that’s it, why is he plotting something?” “He’s been trying to get me to make him a batch of these for ages, saying that he only wants the highest quality products for his customers.” “Seems like I was right to go to you.”

Crewel almost lets out a sigh, before tapping his whip against his palm. “Fine then pup. I’ll give you a private lesson for potionology because you will be taking notes and helping me as well.” “Really?” “Crowley did say there is no record of you existing anywhere. Consider this the pre-lessons you were supposed to learn in high school.”

After an hour of work, you have successfully created three giant bottles of the stuff Crewel guided you to make, and now in your notes, you have the recipe just in case something happens to them. “Listen here.” Crewel commands and you whip your head to him. “Wait until those four months are up on the serum you are on before taking these. Take only 15 milligrams of each a day until you are all out. This way, it’s permanent and you don't have to worry about someone turning you back so easily.” The professor smiles and taps his baton in his other hand.

“Any questions?” “Why am I on the serum then, sir?” “That one prepares your body for a more permanent change, especially if you show any complications with the magic used.” “Got it, sir, that’s all the questions I have.” “Good, now clean your workspace, and go back to your dorm. I expect you to be fully awake in the morning for class.” “Yes, sir” “And I also expect that you will be more responsive than your peers in class because of this.” “Of course, sir.”

Carefully putting the bottles in your bag, and using your jacket as a cushion for each one you braved your way outside nervously. Sam did say that the vials you took will take a while to take effect since your body isn’t used to magic…

***

The final thing you learned in these past two days was that the misogyny here is very much inclusive, you can't tell if that’s a sign of progress or not. The second you walked out of that door you had your very first instance of bullying (Aside from Ace) since arriving in this world. A few Savanaclaw jocks standing by seemed to immediately look over and snicker.

You stood your ground as they approached, knowing walking away would make it worse and if it got bad Crewel was still in that room. “Tch, you’re the new kid huh?” One said in a very stereotypical stupid school bully way. You’re half surprised they didn’t include some insult like “dweebus” or something. “Hah, bro doesn't even have good pecs, what a fucking girl.” One says. “Never knew they made exceptions for girls!” The other says.

“Uh, yeah, it's gonna take a while for this potion to take effect.” A cat boy scoffs, “What potion.” “The one that’s supposed to make me a boy, it's taking a while.” The group went silent for a moment, the weird wolfman sniffs the air at you for a moment before beckoning his bros to lean in and listen. After a painfully awkward moment, the cat boy leader comes back to lean into your face. “So you are a boy! Big deal! You still don't have pecs!” He says, changing his whole tune. “Yeah well you may be a boy but you're… your…” The fox boy pauses, trying to find a proper insult, just to be interrupted by the wolfman again. “But you fucking suck at being one!”

“YEAH!” All three cheer together as they finally find the right niche to bully you in. Suddenly the door next to you opens. “You three! Silence! Leave them alone, it's curfew! Or do you want me to put you to work?” Crewel reprimands, leaving the three running off with their tails between their legs. “You too Yuu.” And you nod and take it as your sign to leave.

You were gonna have a great time learning how to be a boy

#trans reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #trey clover x reader #cater diamond x reader #ace trappola x reader #sam x reader #twst sam x reader #divus crewel x reader

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cherrycola27 · 1 year

Text

Red, White, and Rooster

Series Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption. Frenemies to lovers, relationship of convenience. Political situations. Allegations of affairs, military and political inaccuracies. Eventual smut. 18+ Minors DNI. Banner Credit: @thedroneranger

Series Master List Next Part

...........................................

Prologue: The Great Debate

Anxiety thrums through your body as you fidget with the knot of his tie. The intrusive thoughts are creeping in, but on the outside, you remain cool, calm, and collected.

"Please tell me why I have to wear a purple tie again?" He asks you with a huff.

You roll your eyes as you begin the same speech you have before every other debate. "Democrats wear blue, Republicans red, you're an Independent, so—"

"You wear purple to show that you're the perfect mix of both," He groans as he finishes your sentence.

You look up to him with hard eyes. You don't miss the flash of a genuine smile across his face before some television assistant comes to remind you that you have five minutes until he needs to be in place.

"Alright. This is the last debate before voting begins. By some miracle of God and my amazing campaign managing, you're ahead in the polls. Don't fuck this up for me." You tell him as you smooth out the arms of his suit.

"Don't fuck it up for you? I'm the one who is going to be in the Oval Office dear." He smirks at you.

"And I'm the one who is getting you there, and who is going to your Chief of Staff,— dear. So, like I said, don't fuck this up for me." You smirk back.

One more debate, you thought. You had to get him through one more debate and a few last-minute campaign stops, and then all your hard work would pay off.

If everything went according to plan, Lieutenant Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw would be the 47th president of the United States, and you, Y/N Wiseman, would be the youngest Chief of Staff to ever serve at just twenty-nine years old.

"Roos, Wise-woman, yall about ready?" His running mate, Lieutenant Jake 'Hangman' Seresin called out. "Or are you two still fighting over a tie?"

"We're good, Jake," you reply as you step back to admire your handy work. You've done a good job.

Bradley is in a dark grey suit with a deep plum colored tie. His silver watch is smart, but not flashy. His dark brown shoes offer a nice contrast to the suit without clashing. His sandy brown locks are styled to appear neat but casual. His mustache is trimmed to give him an edge of maturity.

It was something that most men his age didn't need, but being thirty-five and running for president, it was necessary for him. If elected, he would be the youngest to ever serve.

No, not if. When he is elected, he will be the youngest to ever serve.

"Alright, let's get this show on the road." You clap your hands. Bradley and Jake follow you out of the room. Bradley is directed to his mark while you and Jake find your seats.

You hear the welcoming music as the moderator steps on stage and beings speaking to the cameras. Applause and cheers cry out as the candidates step up to their podiums.

You take a deep breath. This is it. These next two hours are going to make or break over a years worth of work.

If someone had told you a year ago that the two former Navy pilots turned politicians, you met in a D.C. bar who hired you because of a bet were weeks away from winning the White House because of you, you would have laughed in their face.

But one game of pool, several beers, tears, and sleepless nights later, it was happening. It was so close, you could almost taste it.

.........................

"Oh my God you fucking killed it out there man!" Jake smacks Bradley on the back as soon as the three if you make it back stage from the debate.

Jake was right. Bradley did kill it out there. Your phone is already blowing up with Google Alerts from various media posts declaring him the winner of the debate.

His stances on education, heathcare, immigration, and the military blew his competition out of the water.

Frankly, he didn't have any competition because the other two candidates could only seem to focus on how young he was or his military background. Neither of them spoke much on their policies. Instead, they chose to try and poke at Bradley's past. However, that proved to be fatal for them.

America had rallied around Bradley's tragic childhood of losing his father at two, then being raised by a single mother, who died when he was barely nineteen. Bradley hadn't wanted to play the orphan card, and you really tried not to, but when he was lacking the polls, early in the campaign, you did what you had to do. He was mad at you for weeks but changed his tune when he saw the numbers.

One candidate, Reece Johnson, had tried to frame Bradley and Jake as monsters and killers since they were former military. You quickly rewrote the narrative, painting them as heros who received the medal of honor during their last flight mission. Bradley for risking his life while saving his captain and late father's best friend, and Jake for saving them both.

Every time someone tried to tear them down, you would swoop in and save them. All the while, running a clean campaign for them.

You were broken out of your thoughts by Bradley calling your name.

"Y/N. Hello. Earth to Y/N Wiseman." He waves his hand in front of your face.

"What?" You ask him. "How did I do?" He asks you. You can tell that he values your opinion. No matter how much he gets on your nerves or how much he grumbles. He needs to hear what you have to say.

"You didn't fuck it up for us." You tell him. A smile breaks out across his face. "I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me Wise-woman." He grins.

"Don't get used to it." You shoot back. "Alright, we need to head back to the hotel. We have an early flight to North Carolina tomorrow, and then a few more stops on the East Coast before we head to the Southwest." You remind him and Jake.

They nod their head and grab their belongings.

"I'm going to head to the parking garage and put my things in the SUV. Chapman, Davis, please make sure Mr. Bradshaw and Mr. Seresin make it down safely. Could you also alert Taylor to be waiting for us at the car?" You ask the secret service agents assigned to you three.

"Yes, Ma'am. Would you like an escort?" Davis ask you.

"No, I'll be fine. No one goes after the campaign manager." You joke before waving him off.

......................

You'd just gotten to the parking garage to put your things in when Taylor, your driver, informed you that he'd left his coat upstairs. You assured him you would be fine as he went to retrieve it.

You'd just finished putting your things in the trunk when you heard someone call out your name.

"Y/N!" A voice shouted. You turned around just in time to see a masked person standing a few feet away from you, with the barrel of a gun pointed directly at you.

Your breath caught in your throat. You didn't know what to do. You were frozen.

"Y/N! You bitch! You cost me everything!" They screamed at you. You heard them draw back the hammer of the revolver before they took their aim.

"GUN!" You head someone shout.

It all happened in slow motion. You couldn't fully process what was happening until it was all over.

You heard the deafening bang of a gunshot.

You felt a strong pair of arms wrap around you and pull you into them and down on the ground to safety while two men in black suits charged at the figure.

You watched with blank eyes as they tackled the person to the ground and wrestled the smoking weapon out of their hands.

Your ears were ringing, but you were vaguely aware of someone calling your name.

"Y/N! Are you alright? Are you hurt?" Bradley shook you.

Suddenly, you realized he was the one holding you.

"I—I'm alright." You stutter out just as you hear the click of cameras followed blare of police sirens.

"You—you saved me." You stutter, fully trying to process the situation. More cameras clicked as the press was making their way out of the venue and witnessing what happened.

Suddenly, it hit you. You had been shot at. Bradley and broken away from his security to save you. He had ignored protocol to protect you. He'd put his life on the line for you.

By now, the media and police were swarming around the two of you. Snapping picture after picture of the two of you while asking question after question. You knew those photos would be on every major news outlet, and the story of his heroism would go viral within hours.

As he helped you up, two things crossed your mind.

One, you were thankful to be alive.

Two, you'd just won the White House.

Eeeekkkk! Babes! I hope you enjoyed this first part! I'm excited to here your feedback!

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larluce · 29 days

Note

Have you ever thought of the episode A Servant of Two Masters with a scene like Ella Enchanted when she breaks her curse? If you don't know the scene or the movie, that's okay because I have ✨a vision✨

Like that:

Merlin inside is dying because he's trying to kill Arthur and that's his worst nightmare, but Arthur decided that needs to be open and honest to Merlin and just tries to confess. I don't know how they got there, but just imagine that Arthur is talking sweetly to Merlin, holding his face with love and going to kiss him, but Merlin is crying because he's with a knife in his hand and trying to stab Arthur in the back. He breaks the curse, but Arthur saw the knife and assumes the worst.

I did watch that film! "A Servant of Two Masters" had the pontential to be very angsty indeed. But of course they decided to make it comedy. Not that I didn't like it anyways, but a more serious take like the one you are proposing would have been GOLD.

I recently saw a post similar to this, not quite, but kind of captures the same idea: LINK

But you inspired me. So I'll add this to your vision:

Just as the movie, Agravaine orders for Merlin to be arrested before he can explain anything, proclaiming he's in alliance with Morgana. However, Arthur, though still very hurt and confused, starts to analyse the situation. Why would Merlin try to kill him now? Is not like he didn't have better chances before. Has he done something to make Merlin change his mind about him? What did Morgana offer him? And why a knife? Merlin literally serves him his food, he could have poisoned him, find a more discret way to do it, he's a physician apprentice for gods sake! Was his servant this dumb? Then he remembers, Merlin was crying through all of it, and he seemed like he was trying to tell him something but couldn't. He thought it was due his emotional confession that his servant had tears in his eyes, but now... could it be that Merlin was forced to do it? Maybe Morgana threatened someone dear to him? Like his mother or Gaius. Or maybe he just can't bare the thought of yet other person betraying him, specially if is Merlin, that now he's making excuses for him? Doesn't matter, he can't execute Merlin, even when his uncle keeps insisting on it. So he just keeps him in the dungeons ad pospones his death sentence as much as he can.

Just as Arthur gathers the caurage to go visit Merlin to ask for answers, against his uncle's wishes of course, Gaius aproaches Arthur and tells him Merlin was under the fomorroh's control giving him the burned cut head of the snake as a prove. He explains he went to visit Merlin and Merlin gave him that and told him Morgana put it in his neck to control him when he was captured, but somehow he managed to break the spell. His uncle intervenes, telling him is all lies, that Gaius just wants to save the boy because he's dear to him and accuses him right then and there of being the traitor they were looking for. For Arthur, however, there was never a doubt, his Merlin is innocent, he never wanted to betray him. He almost cries of relief and, ignoring his uncle and his physician's dicussion, he runs to see Merlin.

His smile fades once he gets there though, cause Merlin, his Merlin, is hanging from a rope. Horrified and in full panic mode, he puts him down as quickly and as carefully as he can. He yells desperately for the guards to fetch Gaius and starts making CPR, but even when Gaius later appears to help it's too late. Merlin's dead and Arthur's whole world is put upside down.

There's a note Gaius finds hidden in Merlin's clothes, it says: "I'm sorry, Gaius. I couldn't fight it much longer, I could feel it, growing back again, trying to control me and I couldn't let it, not again. I would rather cut my own arms and legs and being burn in the pyre a thousen times than hurt Arthur, much less kill him. I won't go through that nightmare again. Please tell him I love him too, that i never mean to do it. I love him more than I love myself. But if he doesn't believe you, if he hates me forever, it's alright. I don't blame him, so don't blame him either. Keep protecting him, please. Specially from Agravaine. Loves you, Merlin".

Gaius shares this letter with Arthur and of course he breaks all over again, but then he asks, "Why did Merlin told you to protect me from my uncle, Gaius?". Gaius doesn't want to answer at first, but Arthur commands him and Gaius answers carefully "he believed he was the traitor, sire". Arthur responds after a pause "And you believe that too?". There's a silence before the physician says "I gave him the pergamine and the ink, he said he wanted to write a message for you that later I would deliver. I was a fool, I should have known..." he sighs. "But I wonder... where did he get the rope?". And that's when when all clicks to Arthur. Agravaine was the one insisting on killing Merlin inmediatly amd Merlin didn't have access to any rope. He confirms it when the guards tell him Agravaine visited Merlin once, they couldn't hear what the man was telling to the boy, but it sounded like he was threatening him.

Agravaine was the traitor, Agravaine gave Merlin the rope. Agravaine is the reason his Merlin now is gone.

Arthur goes to his uncle a sword in hand and demands answer with the blade on his throat. First he dinies it, but then he laughs. "You killed my sister. You and your father" he admits. Arthur's expression remains as a stone "What did you tell him?" Arthur demands. "I just offer him a less painful way to die". Arthur kills him, but finds no satisfaction. He's dead inside. His Merlin died thinking he hated him and he let him believe that. He didn't visit him for days after all, he didn't confront him inmediatly for answers, he let his uncle cloud his mind. This was his fault.

Arthur looks at his sword and puts the point of the blade on his heart. He's about to push the blade when suddenly the doors open and the sword flies from his hand. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" a familiar panic voice shouts at him and Arthur turns. A Merlin with golden eyes is running to him and then hugs him tightly. "Are you mad?!" Merlin's still scolding him, but Arthur's just watches him in shock. "Merlin" he's only capable to mumble.

It turn's out Merlin's magic saved him somehow. It just put his body on the verge of death enough to make the fomorroh believe that the body was uninhabitable so it left his body completely. His mortal body was now too weak though, so his only vital energy left is his magic. That's why his eyes are constanly gold now. It takes a while for Arthur to understand it. Specially the magic part, but honestly, he's far too happy and relief to have Merlin back that he can't be mad about Merlin lying about his magic. In fact, if anything, he's thankful for it, since it saved Merlin's life.

"But you didn't plan that, did you? You did actually try to kill yourself" he accusses however, still heartbroken at the fact.

"It was the only way I could think of-"

"Never, Merlin" he commands him very serious. "Never do that again"

"I can't promise you that"

"Then any harm you do to yourself, I'll do it to me"

"You can't do that!" the warlock shouts horrified. "You are the king! You have a kingdom-"

"Our kingdom, Merlin! We built it together and it's nothing without you either"

"I'm just a servant, an illegal warlock now. My life doesn't matter."

"Don't ever say that again!" Arthur holds Merlin fiercely. "Didn't I tell you're the most valuable person to me? The only person I could trust with my life" tears run down his eyes.

"But.. I lied to you. I even tried to kill you"

"Lie to me then, kill me. You have my permission"

"Arthur-"

"No, I just got I glimse of what a life without you would be and I won't live it again. Not for a second. I can't lose you again".

"I can't lose you either". Merlin cries too. "My magic, everything I am, is yours. It has always been yours". Arthur caresses his cheek.

"Then let me take care of what it's mine"

Between tears, they kiss. Is not really tender or passionate, but pure necessity for the other.

"I'm sorry" Merlin snifs separating the kiss "Gods! My eyes won't stop shining" he says embarrasssed and tries to cover them.

"Don't" Arthur says while he uncovers his eyes gently. "They're beautiful" Merlin smiles but then sighs, sadly.

"The rest won't think the same"

"You don't have to worry about that"

Arthur gives Merlin a royal pardon so he's the 'only legal sorcerer' unless until he can make magic legal again completely. Gwen and the knights accept him inmediatly. The rest are wary at first but eventually they accept him too, when they realise he's the same clumsy servant they always knew. As Merlin recovers from his near death experience, his eyes glow less, but Arthur loves to see Merlin's eyes turn gold everytime.

Aaaand that's all I got. My imagination can't do much.

#merlin bbc #bbc merlin #merlin #merthur #merlin fanfic #merlin prompt #merlin fic #merthur fic #arthur and merlin #merlin and arthur #ask me anything #ask #i got carried away

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