#ill post them on ao3 in a few

[carsonian]

Avengers film posters (ish) but it's just Steve and Tony and the things they've said to each other that I registered as turning points. A few of these I feel mirror the other's experiences either in parallel or as a foil. These boys are complex, got multitudes & whatnot

#ill post them on ao3 in a few #i think quality's been lowered by tumblr #the rest of the weekend will only be fic writing & the beach dw #stevetony edit #stevetony graphic design #my graphic work #stevetony #steve rogers #tony stark #ugh the av tags #avengers 2012 #avengers: age of ultron #captain america: civil war #avengers: infinity war #avengers: endgame

[ghosttotheparty]

love me softly - epilogue

part 22

Jeff Montgomery and Ian Taylor were already in Hellfire Club, and after Eddie jokingly says he needs to join a shitty band instead of trying to go to college, the four of them end up in Gareth’s garage almost every day, playing what they know and improvising what they don’t. (Mrs Gareth’s Mom brings them sodas and fruit, and she headbangs on her way out. Eddie loves her.) They manage to get gigs at the Hideout for a while before moving on to bigger venues with bigger crowds and bigger checks.

Steve graduates before Eddie, and he moves into the trailer. He cuts his parents off, but nothing really changes much, given how little they already contacted him to begin with. (They didn’t go to his graduation. They just sent him some money.) He finds jobs around town before he finally settles at the new mall, where he dresses as a sailor and scoops ice cream, and he meets Robin Buckley.

They become good friends almost immediately. He drives her around town, to and from work, to and from school, and when she finally meets the guys, she fits right in. They all gang up on Steve to tease him, and then they tease Eddie that Robin is stealing his man. It takes a while for the room to settle when Robin says casually Steve doesn’t have tits, he’s not really my type.

Eddie meets Chrissy Cunningham during his third senior year. They meet after school in the woods for a deal, but when she asks for something stronger than weed, he refuses. He puts the tin box away and leans over the picnic table they’re sitting at, and he asks her what’s going on. He promises he won’t tell anyone anything she says. I’ve been dealing since I was a freshman, that’s a long-ass time. I’m great at keeping secrets.

She talks to him. She tells him with a wobbly voice about her mother and the things she says, the things she makes Chrissy do, and Eddie’s whole body aches as he listens. When she finishes, he moves to sit next to her, and he takes her hand, and he tells her what he told Steve when Steve told him the same about his own mother. He tells her that she’s beautiful no matter what, that she doesn’t deserve any of it. That if she can’t be kind to herself yet, he can be kind for her. She leans against his shoulder. Her hands are shaking.

So he wraps an arm around her and asks what else.

My boyfriend is mean.

His body immediately tightens, and he asks very carefully if he hurts her, but she says no. That he loves her, and is kind to her, but is so mean to everyone else that she just… doesn’t like him. Doesn’t like how he treats people. Doesn’t like how he treats her, even if he is loving and kind, because sometimes I feel like he only loves me because I look good holding his arm.

He tells her she doesn’t have to be with him.

They stay there for a little while longer so Chrissy can avoid Jason and the others. She doesn’t want them to see that she’s been crying. So Eddie waits with her. She says she’s heard rumours about him. He says there are a lot of those.

Are they true?

Depends on which ones you mean.

She looks down at her lap. Is quiet for a few moments.

The ones… about you and Steve Harrington. That you guys are…

In love?

…Yeah.

He tells her it’s true. They’ve been together for a while. Since before Steve cut his hair. And she starts to cry.

I think— I think one of the reasons I don’t like Jason is because… he’s a— he’s a boy.

He turns to look at her, and he holds her face in his hands, and he looks into her watery eyes intently before he tells her firmly, softly, There is nothing wrong with you. He holds her while she cries.

She breaks up with Jason two weeks later, and while the news spreads across Hawkins about the town’s star couple splitting up, she’s at the trailer, watching movies with Eddie and Steve. She holds onto Eddie’s arm the whole time, and he falls a little in love with her.

Chrissy Cunningham joins Corroded Coffin later that year. She replaces Ian as the lead vocalist. (He never really wanted to be the vocalist, so he’s happy.) She has a killer stage presence and Eddie loves seeing her come alive after a while, after leaving home. She dances on stage, and she becomes known for the way her blonde hair flies around her head, the way it glows under the fluorescent lights on stage.

She meets Robin not long after she starts hanging out with Eddie. When Robin walks into the trailer, Chrissy is hanging upside down on the sofa, gravity carrying her hair down like a gold river cascading to the floor, and she beams up at her with a bright Hi! Robin’s face flushes pink and she freezes.

…Hi.

They get together after a gig in Indianapolis after pining for a while. Chrissy’s eyes find her in the crowd during a song, and Robin flushes pink as Chrissy sings the lyrics I want a pretty girl like you, as she sings something about a bird in the sky, tasting the cotton candy clouds. Eddie finds them making out backstage afterwards, and he promptly turns around and drags Jeff away so he doesn’t interrupt.

Corroded Coffin gains traction in the mid-nineties.

They run away to San Francisco. Steve and Robin open a studio, where they paint together and make messes daily. Eddie and Steve’s apartment is filled with paintings Steve didn’t want to sell, every wall covered with canvases, along with photographs and posters and sketches. Steve replaces one of his paintings with a framed Rolling Stone magazine when they feature Corroded Coffin.

Steve doesn’t perform with them, but all the fans know who he is. He’s at almost every gig, always at the edge of the stage or as close as he can get, looking up at Eddie all starry-eyed. He designs all their album covers. (The original paintings are hanging at their house. Chrissy took her favourite one a while ago. It’s hanging in her and Robin’s living room.)

Tommy becomes a math teacher.

He has to give Gareth credit for the idea. Ever since he helped him with his statistics, Gareth’s You ever think about being a teacher, Hagan? had rattled around his head, all the way until his senior year. So he does it. He leaves for college right after graduating, and even though he’s sad when he says goodbye to Steve, and Eddie, and Gareth (if he cries that’s his business), he’s ecstatic to get away from his parents. He stops worrying about what they say, about what they think.

He moves to Indianapolis. He likes it here.

He meets a nice girl during his second year of college. Her name is Amanda Kilmer, and she’s studying English literature. She tends to rant a lot, but Tommy loves listening to her voice. When he’s asked by his friend what his favourite thing about her is, the first thing he says is, “She’s kind.” They got married twenty-seven years ago, but every day Tommy considers proposing all over again.

Tommy isn’t really fully aware of his reputation in the high school where he works.

He likes to think that he’s a good teacher, but he doesn’t know how good he is. There isn’t one student that doesn’t like him. He’s patient with the students that are slower learners or have learning disabilities, and he’s kind and gentle and understanding. His classroom is known to be a safe space. Some students that don’t even have his class tend to hang out there during lunch just to be in a quieter environment, and he always has extra food for students that don’t have anything to eat.

His favourite class isn’t really a class. It’s his study hall, about thirty juniors and seniors that tend to be a bit chaotic. Sometimes he has to separate friends so they actually get their homework done, but there are a few students that he doesn’t see talk to anyone very often. One of them is Jordan, a boy with long hair who moved to Indy over the summer. Tommy has a soft spot for Jordan.

He’s happy when he notices some students talking to Jordan a few weeks after school starts. They’re asking him what music he listens to.

Uh, I really like, like, metal and stuff.

Tommy smiles to himself.

Another student says his dad listens to that kind of music but he can’t tell if it’s rock or metal, and Jordan smiles for the first time when he asks what the difference is. He has a nice smile. It lights his whole face up.

Mr Hagan, how would you describe the difference between hard rock and metal?

You know, Jordan, that’s a great question. I wouldn’t, because I don’t know.

The kids laugh. On their way out, Tommy hears one of them ask Jordan why he asked Tommy, and Jordan says He had a picture of Corroded Coffin at his desk. They’re one of my favourite bands. Tommy smiles.

Jordan ends up making several friends in the class. None of them are into metal, but they like to listen to it with him, and they like to hear him talk about it. The students end up teasing Tommy for being a secret metalhead. They catch him nodding or humming along every time they play a song by Corroded Coffin. One of them accuses him of being in love with Chrissy Cunningham, but another says loudly He has a wife! The class coos obnoxiously, and he just lowers his head to his desk and hits his forehead softly against it a few times, eliciting a laugh.

California legalises same-sex marriage on the twenty-eighth of June, 2013. Tommy cries when he hears.

Eddie and Steve get married on September third.

The week before, Tommy tells his study hall he won’t be here next week because he’s attending a wedding. His students are excited, and when they ask who’s getting married, he says Some friends from high school. They’ve been waiting to get married since 1984, and it was just legalised. Which just makes his students even more excited.

They make him promise to bring back pictures.

He does. He makes a whole powerpoint, and when he’s back, he relishes in their screams when the opening photo is him standing as best man for one Steve Munson, at the altar with his husband.

Tommy just looks at Jordan, who’s staring, wide-eyed, open-mouthed. The class falls silent after a minute, and they all look at Jordan, waiting.

…You said high school friends.

Tommy just shrugs. He can’t stop smiling.

I’ve been best friends with Steve since we were kids. He and Eddie fell in love in high school.

Jordan’s head falls to his desk, and his voice is muffled when he speaks again.

You’ve been listening to me talk about your best friends… for weeks.

Tommy laughs.

Do you wanna see the rest of the pictures?

Yes, I wanna see the rest of the fucking pictures.

Jordan is quiet while Tommy flips through the powerpoint, answering the other students’ questions, his eyes trained on every photo like he’s trying to memorise them. Tommy hugging Steve just a few minutes before the wedding, Steve looking into a mirror, fixing his hair. (We called him the Hair in high school.) Eddie and Steve holding hands and gazing at each other at the altar, putting rings on each other’s fingers, smiling and kissing each other, hugging each other so tightly it looks like it hurts.

Tommy sees Jordan wipe a tear away as he looks, but he doesn’t say anything.

He has him stay behind after class.

Is this because I said fucking?

Tommy laughs. Tells him he doesn’t care about swearing.

Got something for you.

It’s a photo of Eddie, Chrissy, Gareth, Jeff, and Ian. They’ve all signed it. Chrissy scribbled a little love you! in her pretty, loopy handwriting, in her trademark silver marker.

Jordan takes it, looks at it, and covers his face with his hand. Tommy waits.

This is the coolest thing that’s ever happened to me.

I told them about you.

Shut up.

I did! Eddie says you sound cool. I said you remind me of him. Except that you’re not as obnoxious.

…Thank you, Mr Hagan.

Tommy smiles and tells him to get out of here, to not be late, and Jordan stares at the photo the whole way out, narrowly missing the doorframe. Tommy turns back to his computer, and a few seconds later he hears one of Jordan’s friends’ voices say very loudly, Holy shit! and he laughs.

They have an outdoor wedding. So the sky can watch.

Wayne passed two and a half years ago. Eddie goes to his grave when same-sex marriage is legalized, just to make sure he knows. To make sure he’s there. You gotta be there, Wayne, you’ve been there since the beginning. You gotta… You gotta see it happen.

They leave a seat open for him in the front row, right next to where Linda sits. (Eddie still greets her as Mrs Gareth’s Mom before he hugs her gently. She’s frail now, her hair grey and white, but her eyes still shine just as brightly as they always have.) During the ceremony, Linda spots a ladybug on the chair. She insists that it was Wayne.

Steve can’t look away from Eddie throughout the whole ceremony. The sun is just setting, and everything is golden (which was Robin’s plan; they left her and Chrissy in charge of wedding planning), and his eyes are glowing and shining like they’re glass. His hair is tied up the way Steve loves (which Steve thinks was on purpose), and every flyaway curl looks like a strand of gold thread in the sunlight. Steve feels like he’s dreaming.

They kiss before the officiator even tells them to, because they’ve both been holding back the entire time. They can hear the officiator laugh before he moves out of the way, and the cheering (Robin and Chrissy are loudest) blends into white noise as they hold each other. When they part, they stare at each other for a moment, still holding each other’s faces.

They’re both crying.

And then they’re hugging each other tightly, so tightly they can’t really breathe, but it doesn’t matter, because Eddie is murmuring in Steve’s ear, I told you. I told you. And Steve is crying, nodding into his neck, swaying. They hold each other for too long, until Steve feels Tommy pat his back gently, saying his name, and Steve just starts laughing, because of course he’d interrupt his own wedding because he can’t keep his hands off his husband. (His husband!)

Corroded Coffin, excluding Eddie, plays for the first dance. Africa by Toto, as requested by Eddie. As Eddie twirls Steve around, Steve is crying and laughing simultaneously.

I cannot believe you remember that.

Of course I remember it, sweetheart.

He still calls him that. And honey, and dearest. Even though they’re, in Eddie’s words, grizzled old men. The first time he calls them that, Steve bursts out laughing. But now, as they dance, as the sun goes down, Steve can’t help but love it. He gazes at the lines across Eddie’s forehead and around his eyes and mouth, at the traces of the years that they’ve spent together, of every single one of Eddie’s smiles and frowns and confused, furrowed brows, and he gazes at the strands of grey in Eddie’s curls, at the salt and pepper stubble he’s let grown out because Steve likes it, and he wonders where he would be if he wasn’t here. And he realises there isn’t a single place he’d rather be.

I’m in love with you.

Sure hope you are.

They both take turns dancing with Linda. Then they both dance with Robin and Chrissy. (Robin leads. Of course.)

Two weeks later the official Corroded Coffin Instagram account posts a photo of Steve and Eddie’s hands, posed so their wedding bands, Eddie’s silver, Steve’s gold, are visible. Their fingers are laced, and Eddie’s nails are painted with black polish that’s already beginning to chip. Eddie’s knuckle tattoos are barely visible under his thick rings, the word FIRE barely legible, and on Steve’s hand there’s a small, rough tattoo of a piece of barbed wire, done soon after they moved to San Francisco, and to everyone that follows them, they’re easily recognizable as Steve and Eddie.

Corroded Coffin fans never knew Steve’s last name. He was just Steve, and Eddie’s man, and before that, that one guy that’s at every show, but after they’re married, he’s Steve Munson.

The caption of the post is just a heart, and every rude comment gets a response from Corroded Coffin, reading get fucked.

It’s been thirty years. The sides of Steve’s head are still shaved. (Eddie does it for him in their bathroom. He still gets swoony when he finishes.) Eddie’s curls are too long, always tied up in a knot at the top of his head or in braids that Chrissy does for him. Eddie still calls him Stevie. Steve still calls him Eddie baby. The letter E is tattooed on Steve's chest, small and faded and shitty, done in their living room in the summer of ‘97, but it’s his favourite tattoo. Eddie’s hands made it.

It’s been thirty years. Eddie still tells Steve he’s pretty, and he still makes him slow dance around the kitchen when the right song is on. Steve wears a watch that Wayne used to wear. He’s had to get it repaired twice, but it’s worth it to hear it ticking as he goes about his life, like he’s listening to Wayne’s heart beat as he paints or cooks or holds Eddie’s hand. Eddie still has every drawing Steve's ever given him. They live in photo albums now, carefully set in the plastic sleeves. Sometimes Eddie looks through them, gazing at every pencil mark and all the bleeding ink. Just remembering.

It’s been thirty years. Eddie still tucks his hands under Steve’s shirt to touch his skin while they talk. Their home is lived in. There are stains on the sofa from spilled wine, and the corners of the rugs curl up. Their bed is perpetually unmade, and sometimes there’s dry-erase marker on the bathroom mirror that reads love you so much in the mornings. The smell of cigarettes and weed lingers on everything in the house. (Sometimes Eddie gets a whiff of Wayne as he’s sorting the laundry. He only realises after a few years that Steve gets the same laundry detergent Wayne used to use.)

It’s been thirty years. Steve still falls asleep to Eddie’s heartbeat.

read the whole thing on ao3 tagging: @thehumblefigtree @luna-munson83 <3

and there we have it; genuinely cant put into words how grateful i am to everyone that kept up w this i had so much fun love you all <3

#am planning on writing 'deleted scenes' as one shots i already have a few planned and ill probably post them here and on ao3 :) #steddie #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #love me softly

[canadiankakashi]

Writing fluffy fics my beloathed </3

#i need to take breaks every few minutes or else I'll die from the cuteness #im writing one of my ship fics rn and they're just so sweet together #its making me feel awfully single rn #hopefully ill get this bad boi posted within the next week #their ship tag is upsettingly empty and its been a few months since the last fic in it which i also posted #ive published 3 so far and you can really tell that people want more of the ship because i get kudos emails every week or so #also they aren't on my ao3 so good luck finding them :P #(they aren't really mature or anything i just like having those types of fics on an alt) #atropos speaks (fake) prophecies

[plutoswritingplanet]

It's A Special Death You Saved (Feyd Rautha Harkonnen x Female!Reader) pt.1

a/n: i had a "no bald men" rule before he licked a knife... so y'all know my priorities are in order. Cross-Posted on AO3

Warnings: Dub-Con (as per usual), Arranged Marriage, Reader is an Atreides (it's just such a good prompt i couldn't help myself),

Summary: A month-long engagement to the na-Baron Harkonnen makes you question, whether a marriage can bloom on the grounds of hate. Loosely based on "Special Death" by Mirah.

Pt.2, Pt.3 Pt.4 (finale)

The message comes from the Emperor himself. An indisputable order that renders your Father speechless. You've never seen him quite as distraught, as when he has visited you in your chambers to deliver the news. Hands fidgeting, eyes refusing to meet yours, heavy shadows falling across his face. He seems to expect your reaction, not giving you as much as a flinch, when you scream your protests at him. And he should've expected as much, you were always the more impulsive of Duke Leto's children. 

- But the Harkonnens are beasts - you argue, voice breaking - You've said it yourself, many times.

- Actually, I think that was Gurney...

- You've never denied it!

And he doesn't deny it now, head hung low. Never, not once in your life, have you seen your Father give up. Until today. 

Your Mother enters just a few seconds after him, her dress flowing around her ankles as if she had floated in on a cloud. She stands to the side of your bed, hands folded, and an impassive expression embedded onto her features. And the more she speaks of the centuries of breeding, the importance of an union and the powers beyond your understanding, the less you see of your mother. What stands before you, instead, is a Bene Gesserit sister, veiled in schemes and dark plans, which were in the making before you were even born. You curse yourself for not noticing this stranger sooner, and storm off, out of your room, your shawl blowing out behind you like bat wings.

Paul doesn't visit you, but you can hear him, even through the effort of swallowing down your tears. He fights for you against your Father. He would fight for you against the whole Empire if he had to, and your heart swells, as he throws a particularly nasty curse into the air of your Father's study. It doesn't change anything. According to the decree of the Emperror, the oldest daughter of the Duke Leto Atreides will marry Feyd Rautha, an heir to the Baron Harkonnen. A centuries long dispute is about to be put to an end, and all thanks to the small sacrifice, which is your life. All would be well in the galaxy. Really, you should be honored, to be tasked with such a monumental peace treaty.

Everyone in the court seems to know about your situation. Mournful looks follow you, as you walk into the training barracks, ridding yourself of layers upon layers of flowing fabrics, leaving you in a rather tight costume, light enough to beat your frustrations out on someone.

Duncan Idaho meets your searching eyes, and you know he is aware as well. All it takes is one inclination of your chin, and he's up on his feet, sword in hand. Loyal as ever, he stands in front of you, watches with mixed feelings as you enable your shield, no questions asked. None needed. 

He barely has time to put his defenses up, when you charge at him, fury and despair pushing your movements into stances which are clumsy and ill though out. Still, there's power within your strikes, a strength of someone who needs to move, unless they break. So he lets you, for a couple of minutes. He dodges your attacks, pairing some of them, never moving quite into the offense.

The rest of the soldiers scurry off somewhere, for which you will be thankful in the future. They might hear your cries of anger, but they will not see you break. They will not see the way your blade smashes into Duncan's shield over and over again, with no regard for the slow attacks, which would penetrate it. Likewise, they don't see your sparring partner fall to his knees and swipe you off your feet in a split-second movement, making you hit the floor with a frustrated snarl. And they don't see you finally give up, and cry, hugging your blade to your chest, the severity of your circumstance falling onto you, crushing you down.

- Never fight in anger, Princess - Duncan reminds you, voice cautious, and you growl at him like a wild animal - It dulls your instincts, makes you distracted.

- Did you know? - you demand, your sharp voice cutting through his half-assed lecture.

For a moment he looks truly remorseful. His eyes float around the room, and your heart sinks when he sighs deeply.

- I found out not long ago - he confesses - Your Father told me. 

Your blade slides against the floor as you throw it, a raw scream tearing through your throat. Duncan takes a step towards you, hand extended towards your shaking form. But, before he can attempt to touch you, you're up, rolling your shoulders forcefully. Tears stain your cheeks, and you wipe them roughly with the back of your hand, skin becoming irritated almost instantly. There are swords laid out on a small table, just beside you,  your fingers grip the cold handle so hard, your knuckles seem to creak under the pressure. Duncan readies himself as well, dusting off his trousers. 

He's not good at comforting, but he's the best at fighting, and if that's what you need in this cold morning, he'll oblige. 

- You'll make it through, you know - he says, his voice genuine, and you laugh without any mirth.

Your blades clash, faces coming closer as you absentmindedly notice small scars adorning his cheeks.

- You can adapt to anything - you strike against his shoulder, the shield pushes your blade away - We could send you to Arrakis right now, and a week later you'd be riding a damned Sandworm into battle.

To that, you laugh, this time your smile reaching your eyes. The idea is preposterous, but it renders your footsteps lighter, and you twist to dodge a nasty blow to the right arm. Duncan huffs a laugh as well, as you slip through his fingers. He points his blade in your direction, a smirk playing across his lips, and you bare your teeth in a playful display of wildness.

- Careful, Princess, you might scare your betrothed away - Duncan teases, as you roll your dagger in your hand.

- Scare a damned Harkonnen? Do you find me that intimidating? - the idea thrills you just a little bit, you're woman enough to admit it.

- I think you're fucking terrifying.

- Duncan Idaho, you better not be swearing at my Daughter.

Your face falls immediately, as your Father approaches the two of you, shooting Duncan a stern gaze which holds no real threat. Still, your sparring partner raises his hands, his blade tucked away safely into his belt. There's sweat clinging to your skin from all the training, mingling with drying tears on your cheeks, and Duke Leto tries very hard not to comment on your choice of processing recent events. Still, he nods at you, and like a good daughter, you put your blade away, walking from the barracks after him. 

***

The Emperor has called for a traditional, Atreides engagement. A mercy, which you're eternally grateful for. You're not too aware of Harkonnen customs regarding marriage, but given the House's reputation, it couldn't have been pleasant. House Atreides however, took to such matters much more ceremonially, old-fashioned to some. 

Soon, a ship is arriving, with your betrothed onboard, and a month-long courting period willcommence. After that, official engagement and soon after, a wedding. Then, you will be transported back on Geidis Prime, where a life of misery awaits. That's all the time you have. A month.  

The dress, which was picked out for you, is uncomfortable and shows both too much and too little skin at the same time. While your legs are bare and exposed to an almost scandalous degree, a high, stiff collar nearly chokes the life out of you. This whole getup was the idea of your mother, as an attempt to highlight your best features and hide all that might be considered less desirable. 

You have no idea what's wrong with your neck. Perhaps, by cutting off your airflow, your mother aimed to keep you docile. 

She frowns deeply as you tug on the fabric, nerves climbing up your spine, growing more desperate every second. She swats at your hand, and you throw her a look. Out of the corner of your eye Paul smiles at your antics, your only consolation in this hopeless place. 

- Stop fidgeting, you'll tear the dress - Lady Jessica scolds you, and you can sense actual worry underlining her stern voice.

The Harkonnen ship slowly glides into the atmosphere of your home planet, a black, awful thing. Like all things on Geidis Prime, dark and miserable. Soon, you'll join them, adorned in equally black and lifeless clothing, never to see your family again. Never to see the Ocean. Your nails bite into the collar of the dress, you can hear a stitch tear.

- Stop that.

Your hands fall uselessly against your body, as your mother uses the Voice on you. Wouldn't be the first time, you were quite the unruly daughter and Lady Jessica was determined to make a Lady out of you no matter the means. Still, this time, the unnatural tone feels more like a panicked plea,  than a light-hearted scolding. 

- Relax Mother - your voice is sharp, despite the slight tremble - In a months time I'll be gone from here forever, stuck in some blackened cell, wistfully sighing "ooh" "aah".

You place your hand on your forehead in a dramatic display of doubtful acting abilities. When you were younger, your mother would laugh at you, as you enacted scenes from romance books. You would throw yourself at a nearby piece of furniture, pretending to be some wronged lover, or an unhappy bride waiting for someone to liberate her. And your mother would clap her hands, thoroughly entertained.

Today however, she doesn't even crack a smile.

- I don't expect you to be happy about all this - she whispers - But I do expect you to wear your grief with some grace.

A slap would've been kinder, you think, and stare ahead, as the Harkonnen ship opens, and a group of people dressed in black spill out of it like ants from a drowning anthill. Your heart is thrumming hard in your chest, and your hand reaches out, despite all your apprehension, towards your mother. A force of habit, to search consolation within her disregarding the fact, that it was her meddling that put you here. 

Her fingers lace with yours, thumb stroking your palm in an attempt to soothe you. 

Immediately, you know which one of the bald headed Harkonnen is your betrothed. 

He's much taller than you, an imposing figure even despite his rather lean built. His skin is almost completely white, as expected, his teeth are blackened out, as expected as well, and his eyes are bearing into you with an intensity so oppressing, you almost look away. Almost. 

- I present to you, Feyd Rautha, the na-Baron of House Harkonnen. 

The pale man steps forward, releasing you from his gaze for only just a moment, to trade pleasantries with your Father, who looks beyond miserable as he fixes your soon-to-be husband with a tired look. Then, Feyd Rautha is brought before you.

There's grace to his movements you did not expect, as he pushes his black cloak aside, and kneels in front of you. Harkonnen were known for their bulky ruthlessness, but this one... This one reminded you of a panther, the way his eyes travelled the length of your body, full lips pulling upward into a barely noticable smirk. 

Customs, you remind yourself, as your mother's hand squeezes your fingers. You don't want to let her go, but you do, slowly, with so many mixed thoughts rattling around your brain, it makes your head swim. 

Feyd Rautha grabs your extended hand in such a gentle manner, you're almost convinced the Harkonnens have shaved some poor bastard and dropped him off instead of the real na-Baron. Then, he lifts your palm up, until his lips press against your fingertips, a gesture so tender, your heart does a flip in your chest. And then, it stops all together, when his grip on your palm tightens, and he pulls your hand closer, to kiss it properly. As if he can't help himself, he looks up at you, and you realize. 

You almost got yourself caught, but reading people's intentions have been taught to you as fervently as reading texts, and you can see right through this facade of chivalry. There's darkness in this man, a swirling void, which brings a wave of cold fear upon you. This cunning, depraved creature will soon enough become your husband, and you'll be stuck with him forever. How long will he keep up this impeccable appearence? Was this performence for you, your Father, his own twisted fun, or all the things combined?

With a furrowed brow, you tear your hand out of his grasp, a full body shiver running up your spine at the sight of his self-satisfied smirk. He drinks up your reactions like a man parched, and you fight hard to put on a mask of indifference, as he rises from his knees to stand before you in all his imposing glory.

***

You can feel his eyes follow you, as the welcome committee retreats into the Palace. He doesn't let you out of his sight throughout the feast, which takes place immediately after his arrival, and even now, as he gets ready to "entertain" the court by indulging in some barbaric ceremony of his, his eyes are trained only on you. 

It's uncomfortable, to say the least, having him stare at you, while you sit surrounded by your family, who, for the most part, say nothing. Except Paul. Your dear baby brother, your protector in all this madness. As Feyd Rautha throws his coat to the side, showing off his (admittedly impressive) muscles, Paul leans towards you.

- He looks like a hard boiled egg, don't you think sister? - he whispers and subsequently ends your vow of silence. 

The giggle you let out is caught quickly by everyone around, your betrothed included, before you press an open palm against your lips. 

- Behave - your mother warns, and you try, you really do.

But in the serene light of the fading sun, your soon-to-be husband's head does look frighteningly egg-ish. God, you'll get yourself killed, before the wedding ceremony is even resolved if you keep this up.

You're seated high in an outdoor theater. One of your grandfather's favorite places, where he used to dance with bulls for sport. Where he met his demise.

Feyd Rautha presents his knives to you and your family, their blades glint ominously in the setting sun. Again, you are struck with the sheer grace this man exudes. His movements, despite being forceful and wild, have a beauty to them, as if he was rehearsing ancient dance moves, rather than killing blows.

And, despite your brother's earlier comment, there is something enticing in the way his pale skin catches the rays of bleeding sunshine, slowly creeping towards the horizon. He's almost beautiful, almost handsome enough to consider. 

The thought leaves your head almost immediately, as the Harkonnen servants bring in his apparent opponent. Your heart drops to your stomach at the sight of a beaten, dark skinned warrior. Immediately you recognize a Fremen, you've read so much about them in your free time. You know how they filter water, what they eat, how they move through the sands, and despite your knowledge you can't fathom, why this poor man has been brought here. 

At your side, Paul shifts in his seat, all jokes leaving him in a hurry. The both of you watch, as the man you're promised to toys with a clearly drugged victim. Slashes bloom on the prisoners skin, blood sprays in the air. You refuse to look away, to show such weakness, even as Feyd Rautha grabs the poor man by his hair and with a forceful push impales his throat on the blade. Blood pours down onto the sand, paints the Harkonnen's face and chest a deep shade of red.

It's a brutal display of power, of cruelty and wildness the Harkonnens are known for. Suddenly, everything Gurney has warned you about, while training your fighting skills, rings like a thousand of bells in your ears. This is who you will marry, who you will spend your entire life with. 

You swallow down an urge to throw up, and stand up from your seat. 

The show must go on, you think, throwing your Mother one, venomous look, trying to force her to understand your pain. Then, you lock eyes with your betrothed, who watches you from below with a cruel smile, blackened teeth on full display. You meant to congratulate him, to play the part as instructed, but you can do nothing of the sort. Instead, you stare back at him, disgust flowing from your features like a broken faucet. 

Lady Jessica opens her mouth, but before she can, without a doubt, scold you again, you're out of the seating area, your footsteps echoing in the halls. 

Once you're sufficiently tucked away from prying eyes, your back hits the wall, and you allow yourself feel the luxury of unbridled panic. Your breathing comes out in fast, shallow pants, as cold sweat forms on your forehead. Thoughts racing, your fingers tangle into your hair, tugging at the roots. This is your future, the only future waiting for you, and it's filled wth pain and blood.

- Have you enjoyed the fight, my Lady? - you immediately know it's him, despite not hearing him speak before.

A gasp of surprise leaves you before you can catch it, and your back straightens almost painfully fast. 

There he stands, tall and lean, and terrifying. Blood still decorates his torso creating a contrast that is both terrifying and hypnotizing. He watches you, curiosity and humor swirling behind his eyes. You can't decide whether they are completely blackened out, or if they hold a blue, almost serene hue. 

- No - you answer, finding your voice entirely too shaky for your liking - I did not enjoy it.

He laughs, a guttural, low sound that makes the hair stand at the back of your neck. You know he wouldn't dare try anything here, right under your Father's nose while the engagement is still in the making. Yet, as you stand frozen, just you, him and the marble walls around you, dread finds home in the pit of your stomach.

- Was that man Fremen? - you ask, partially to fill the silence, partially because you're genuinely curious.

The man shrugs, you can see muscles moving under his white skin. He takes a step towards you and you will yourself not to run.

- Sometimes we bring a couple of captured desert rats home - he explains with a nonchalant tone - Mostly for entertainment.

The almost bored intonation he uses to describe this barbaric ritual makes something boil deep inside you. 

- That's cruel - you counter, emotions flowing freely onto your face, much to the man's delight - To deny those men the honor of dying on their home planet. To drag them into a completely foreign place, just to kill them for sport, like some animals... It's...

- Some of them live - he cuts you off, taking another couple of steps towards you, but in your growing outrage, you barely notice - Our brothels are filled with Fremen whores.

Your face twist into an expression of utter repulsion, and Feyd Rautha raises his eyebrows in a pathetic mask of confusion, almost childlike giddiness lighting up his eyes as he looks down at you.

- Oh, don't give me that look, my Lady. - he cooes, and you've never felt a stronger urge to slap the daylights out of someone - I know for a fact there are brothels on your planet filled with hungry soldiers.

- Yes - you bark back at him - but the people there are working prostitutes, not slaves!

He shrugs, looking somewhere to the side of your face.

- A waste of money, if you'd ask me.

- Good thing no one has - there's venom in your voice, and your betrothed sucks a breath through his teeth.

You curse yourself for leaving your dagger, for not concealing it somewhere in this ridiculous dress, because the way the Harkonnen's expression shifts freezes blood right in your veins. 

He looks at you, amusement tugging at the corners of his lips, while something much darker lurks in his eyes. His bloodied hand comes up, finger making contact with the exposed skin of your shoulder. You can feel the thick liquid stick to your flesh, as he drags his hand down, painting you, marking you.

- You're quite the little viper, my Lady.

Watching him silently, you don't respond. Don't know how to, when he closes the distance between your bodies enough to make you feel the heat radiating off of his chest, while the smell of blood and sweat completely assaults your senses. It's sickening, the way he looks at you, like you're a new toy, just waiting to be unpacked and destroyed by too eager hands. 

- My Uncle, the Baron, has instructed me, to be the utmost gentleman to you. To woo you completely - his voice is low, barely above a whisper, as he grins down at you - But I just can't lie to my future wife like that, can I?

He leans closer and finally, you take a step back, sliding out of his space, assessing a cautious stance. His hand almost follows you, the skin of your shoulder feels conflictingly cold without him.

- Once we're wed, I will possess you completely - this time you stand your ground, as he approaches, circling you like a lion stalking it's prey - And then...

He leans down beside you, shoulder to your shoulder, close enough for you to feel his hot breath graze your ear.

- Like the bull that took your grandfather's life, I shall pierce you.

The violent innuendo doesn't slip past you, and with hatred brewing behind your eyes, you look straight at him, forcing your fear to lay dormant. 

- You're disgusting.

- And you're blushing like a lovely, virgin bride should - he concludes, sending an awful wink your way, before withdrawing from you completely. 

Your veins burn hot, as you watch him leave, a selfish confidence painting his steps, and you beg every God in existence to grant you a sword in your hand. Or a dagger. A kitchen knife would do as well. Anything, that would help you cut this unbeatable, patronizing, infuriatingly handsome smirk from Feyd Rauthas face.

Alas, you're left with nothing, only a small glimmer of hope dangling in front of you, after your damned betrothed's words fully register in your brain.

A bride you might be, but certainly not a virgin one. Duncan Idaho made sure of that many years ago. The thought makes you smile, despite nerves wreaking havoc in your body. At least that's the one thing Feyd Rautha won't be able to take from you.

#my writing #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune 2024 #dune movie #dune part 2 #feyd rautha smut #dune smut #dune x reader #he looks insane what the hell am i writing

[myfictionaldreams]

Winter Soup // Mafia!Stucky x F!Reader

Summary: There was no better feeling than a bowl of hot soup when you're feeling unwell and, what's even better is when it's delivered to your door every day by your new guard. It tasted amazing and you could always trust everyone in the Mafia... right?

Requested by: @senjoritanana​​ thank you so much, I hope you enjoy all the angst!

A/N: PSA I don't know the specifics of how poisons work and didn't want to risk it on my google history lmao so please ignore any inaccuracies. Please read the tags if you're affected by near death experiences, please proceed with caution and if I've missed any tags/warnings, please let me know!

Warnings/Tags: 18+ readers only, hints of smut, angst (LOTS BUCKLE UP), fluff, polyamory relationship, poisoning, blood and injury, anxiety, crying, begging, near death expierences, reader is injured, pain, emotional hurt/comfort, hospitalization, protective Steve Bucky and Sam, everyone needs a hug tbh

Words: 7.7k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

The warmer months were slowly starting to shift into winter and for some reason this year, the weather change was beginning to affect your health. You’d heard of the phrase ‘seasonal depression’ but you were convinced that it was due to the cooler weather that was making you feel this rubbish.

It had been happening for a week now, and some days you’d feel fine, normal in fact but then others your chest felt so tight as if an elephant was sitting on top of you, nausea, vertigo and heart palpations that would have you clutching your chest with fear you might explode. With each passing day, you would be praying for the summer months to return, especially as the snow and ice increased with intensity outside of your home.

You were fine for the most part, good days and bad; yes you might be getting worse with each passing day but you were adamant that the seasonal illness would pass. However, the frosty weather was also a minor blessing because it was your excuse to stay home and be a pretty housewife for Steve and Bucky. Being able to stay home made it easier to keep the illness to yourself as well, it was a busy time within the Rogers mafia and you didn’t need them wasting their time fretting over your wellness when they had a lot of other things to do. They had many international deals that were so close to being signed for and contracted that every waking hour was spent at the office, on phone calls, and emails, trying to talk to locals across the world to attend meetings on their behalf so the boys were thoroughly busy.

There were a few occasions you’d attended with them to the office if you were feeling particularly needy or lonely but it unnerved you to drive on the snow and ice so when you suggested that you might stay at home, Steve and Bucky offered no complaints.

At home at least you were able to mop about, trying to perk yourself up with movies, pyjamas and your favourite bowl of warm soup. Over the last few months, you’d been trying to improve your cooking skills, especially to impress Steve who usually cooked for three of you. This became more interesting as the colder months drew in over Brooklyn as this meant you could cook more homely, hearty foods such as soups and stews, especially as you had recipe suggestions from the newly hired grounds guard Rafael.

He’d been recommended by a friend of a friend for Steve to hire which was perfect timing because the last grounds guard had retired. There were a few occasions when he was the guard to bring the post to the front door from the front gate and you soon found he was enthusiastic and easy to talk to, even though he was a little bit older, which was how you found out he had previously been a chef and offered to give you recipe ideas. As winter drew in, Rafael began turning up when he knew you were by yourself to deliver some of his momma’s family recipe soups, hoping that the meal would perk you up which it did, they tasted so delicious that you were secretly hoping he would keep bringing them to you, especially as you continued to feel unwell.

“What is it today?”, you asked voice full of hope and trying to sound as upbeat as possible. Even though you were desperately holding onto the door handle as your head was spinning and scared you’d fall over.

“Potato and leek soup and they’re all grown in my back yard so hopefully you’ll love it even more than usual”, Rafael smiled as he handed over the container, his smile broad and causing the aged creases at the corner of his eyes to deepen.

Gleefully you accepted the soup, opening the lid slightly to smell the delicious meal, your stomach grumbling with hunger. Your appetite had reduced significantly over the last few days due to always feeling nauseous however it seemed the only thing that you could stomach was his delicious meals and therefore his arrival was always welcomed.

“Thank you so much! Please will you let me pay you this time? You’re being way too kind to me, always giving me free meals, you’re going above and beyond a usual guard”, you pleaded whilst also having to return holding onto the door handle as it felt like the ground was moving with your dizziness.

Rafael held up his hands and shook his head, taking a step back, “Absolutely not! Just wanted to give you something to make you feel better and make the fairies go away”.

The guard halted, a look of embarrassment passing out his features as he realised what he just said, especially as you asked, “Fairies?”

He awkwardly looked down at his shoes, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to explain, “Yeah it’s just something my momma use to say. If we were feeling unwell, it’s because the fairies had crept into our stomachs and were being naughty and making us ill and now I’ve said it out loud to another person I’ve realised how insane that sounds so I’m going to stop talking”.

You squeezed your lips together to try and contain your laughter but that lasted a moment before you were both laughing which only turned into you losing your balance against the door and swaying to keep yourself upright. The laughter died in Rafael’s eyes as he reached out to you, “Woah, you ok, Ma’am?”

Quickly brushing him off, you took a step back into your home, trying to ask nonchalantly about the situation, “Yeah sorry, probably just the fairies pushing me over”. Your joke didn’t seem to comfort him in any way as he continued to look uneased by your appearance.

Thankfully Rafael didn’t push the situation any further, seeing that you wanted to escape back into the comfort of your home, he took his step back with a simple smile. “Get back inside before you catch another cold from this snow. Eat the soup whilst it’s still warm and I’ll be back tomorrow to hear the verdict on the taste.”

“Thank you Rafael! Enjoy the rest of your day!”. You waved him off and rushed to slam the door, sliding down to the floor against the wood, losing all energy that you’d built that morning just for that one conversation. Ok yes, you were feeling sorry for yourself as you tried to catch your breath, heart pounding violently in your chest that it also echoed in your ears and your vision was still seeing double of everything.

However your stomach continued to gurgle with hunger so without wasting any more energy, you opened the lid and ate the entire contents then and there. Releasing a satisfied sigh at the delicious meal, you took another couple of minutes to gather your senses before dragging yourself over to the living room, collapsing onto your back on the couch and letting sleep take you into a dreamless realm.

A violent shake of your shoulders by a hard grip on your shoulder was what startled you awake as Sam’s voice then surrounded you as he shouted, “Hey! Wake up!”.

“I think this is the first time I’ve ever been close to hating you Sam Wilson”, you croaked before coughs shattered your chest, rocking your body as you tried to sit up and suck in any air between the painful coughs. Finally, you calmed down enough to collapse back against the decorative cushions of the couch and open your eyes to look at the three Sam’s that hovered over you. After a couple more blinks, they merged into one, very distressed-looking bodyguard, eyebrows knitted together and jaw muscle clenched harshly.

Sam reached towards your face, pressing against your cheek in concern, “Why didn’t you tell me you were ill?”

“What? I’m not ill, I’m just tired, can’t a girl nap around here?” you questioned with a raised eyebrow, trying to look as relaxed as possible. 

The man didn’t look convinced as he sat on the edge of the couch next to you. Releasing a heavy sigh which only twinged something in your chest that made you want to cough but you refrained from doing so as you emphasised, “Sam seriously, I’m fine”.

Sam gave you another serious glance, eyes hardening as he explained, “You didn’t sound fine, you were wheezing so hard in your sleep I thought you were going to stop breathing”.

There was no denying the panic that filled your heart and would explain the tightened feeling in your chest but you tried to not let the fear show on your face as you rolled your eyes, reaching for his hand and squeezing it.

“I appreciate your concern Sam, but I feel ok, I’m just tired, I was probably just sleeping in a weird position and look, no wheeze now!” Taking a deep breath to show there was no more noise coming from your chest, however, it didn’t seem to comfort him in any way.

“Yeah well you’re still looking peaky and why are you so tired all the time recently, you’re never usually like this”.

“It’s probably just the cold weather or something. If I start to feel unwell, you know I’d tell you. I’m a big baby when I’m ill, you’ll be the first to know”. Sam looked to be contemplating believing you and all you were silently begging for was that he didn’t call Steve and Bucky, they just didn’t need this stress right now. Even though it was in his contract to call them at any sign of injury or illness but as Sam looked at you, other than looking tired, you seemed to be fine and still joking with him. Finally, he gave you a simple nod and you couldn't hold back the thankful sigh. “Do you mind if I go back to sleep for a little while longer or do you need me for anything?”

“You’ve been sleeping a lot recently”, he stated his earlier point again.

“What, so I’m not allowed to nap now?” you teased him with a subtle smile, hoping to crack his worried exterior. It only half worked as he shook his head to himself, standing up and pulling the fluffy blanket that had been left behind you on the couch and throwing it over your body. Before you could even thank him though, sleep had stolen you back into its resting state. 

Sleeping for a few more hours, Sam was nowhere to be seen but he usually liked to check the perimeter ever so often and speak to the other guards so you weren’t worried about his whereabouts. As you shuffled to the kitchen, you couldn’t tell if you felt any worse or better after all the sleeping, haven’t wasted another day feeling sorry for yourself, you tried to snap out of it by glancing through the refrigerator and cupboards and deciding to ssurpriseSteve and Bucky with a romantic meal.

The house was soon filled with delicious scents of sweet and savoury as you’d baked and were in the process of cooking their dinner. You were in your own little world and had only stumbled a handful of times with dizziness and the headache that was building was currently mild in comparison to others you had, it was fine you determined to yourself

Still lost in your own thoughts, you hadn’t even heard the front door open as you were suddenly enveloped by a muscular chest and arms, a smile aching your cheeks as you nuzzled back into Steve’s body. His lips danced over your cheek and down your neck as he held you close, the roughness of his beard comforting. “I didn’t hear you come in”, you commented, turning your head slightly to chase after his lips, sighing deeply in your chest as he held you tighter for a second, hands dipping beneath your shirt at your waist so that he could feel the warmth of your skin.

“I did shout”, he revealed whilst moving back to neck, not to kiss but just to smell you in, his body almost melting into the floor as he felt at home with the familiar scents. “I’ve missed you”, he whispered against your skin.

Goosebumps instantly flooded over your body as you shivered, turning in his arms to hug him properly, your fingers scratching through his hair that was beginning to curl at the ends where he’d allowed it to grow out over the winter months. “I’ve missed you too”, you whispered against his lips, lazily kissing and breathing each other in.

“Come with us tomorrow, I want you to be near me”, he admits with words that were making you cling to him harder.

You wanted to say yes and the word was on the tip of your tongue but then your thoughts drifted to the soup coming. “I’ve got a delivery coming that I can’t miss, I’m sorry”.

“The guards can get the delivery”, he counters.

“It’s fresh soup I want it whilst it’s hot”, an embarrassed smile finds its way to your lips as he leans his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he just enjoyed the moment of the two of you being together.

“Soup? But we could order that to the office if you wanted it, you know that’s no issue”. 

You pout dramatically, hanging off his neck as you whisper with a childish tone, “But it won’t be the soup that I’ve ordered and want”.

Steve rolls his eyes but you know he's being playful, he could never find a reason to be upset with you. Rolling back his shoulders, he stands back to his full height, opening his eyes to cup your cheek with his massive hand but this was when he took you in and a frown dawned on his face just like it had on Sam’s. “Are you feeling ok?” The hand on your cheek moved towards your forehead, expecting to feel a temperature but it felt normal.

“I feel great”, you say with as much cheer in your tone as possible, still holding onto his neck but mostly because another wave of dizziness had rushed through you and you needed some support to stay standing.

Steve didn’t seem convinced, “You just … look a little off”.

You playfully rolled your eyes, similar to how he had just done, “Wow thanks Steve”.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that”.

“I know, I’m joking, I’m fine - really, it's nothing to worry about”. He eyes you and doesn’t fall for your grin so you tried your next trick up your sleeve. Leaning on your tip toes whilst pulling his face closer, you whispered against his lips, “I love you, Stevie”.

The tension momentarily eased from his shoulders as his grip around you tightened, “I love you too”.

“Sorry to interrupt your love fest but I want my own loving”, Bucky broadly announced from the entrance of the kitchen where he was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, a twinkle of mischief in his blue eyes however as you pulled back from Steve and he could finally see your face, the happiness seeped from his face. “Woah, what happened? Are you ok?”

You gave a frustrated huff, finally releasing Steve’s neck as you pointed in the direction of the decorated table. “Right, both of you go and sit down before I decide you don’t deserve any food for being mean”.

Steve shuffled away first as you continued to cook the food, Bucky looking ashamed as he came over and kissed your cheek but before he could pull away, you quickly captured his lips in a kiss to show you’d been playing before and weren’t upset.

“Why are there only two plates on the table?”  Steve questioned as he took a seat.

Without looking over your shoulder at him, you casually answered, “I’ve already had mine, I wasn’t sure when you were both going to be home and I didn’t want to wait”. They both seemed to accept your lie and you happily sat with them as they ate, asking about how the deals were going. They both seemed to be agreed that they were sure to have contracts signed tomorrow and had even been able to pay off some of the international police so that shipping of the goods could occur. In truth, after the soup, you were not feeling at all remotely hungry and even the smell of the cooked food had turned your stomach over.

A couple of hours later, the three of you were preparing for bed. Steve is in the middle and you are to his right and Bucky is to his left. You and the mafia boss had been kissing deeply for a couple of minutes, his hands beneath your shirt, brushing against your breasts, rough fingertips peaking your nipples as you ground down on his thigh. You were soaked and he could feel the evidence of it as you weren’t wearing any underwear but the longer the touches and kisses went on for, the more you were feeling unwell.

As his teeth tugged on your bottom lip and he began to trail open-mouthed kisses over your jaw and down your throat, you noticed Bucky was doing the same thing but to Steve’s neck from behind. However, there were two Bucky’s instead of one as your vision swayed and it felt as if you were on a water bed with how unsteady you felt. The headache was close to a full-blown migraine as well now which only continued to make you feel nauseous so even though there was nothing more you wanted than to continue where this intimacy was leading but, for once, you had to stop it.

“Wait, just- just one moment”, you pushed against Steve's shoulders at the same time. The blonde's hold on you loosened as he moved his face back to look into your eyes but you’d closed them, trying to hide your face from him and Bucky who had also sat up further to check on you. “I just- sorry I’m tired and I… I’m not sure- sorry.. I don’t think-”.

Steve’s fingers tipped your chin up to look at him as he smiled softly down at you, “If you don’t want to do anything, we don’t have to. If you’re tired then I’ll just hold you close, ok? Please don’t apologise for not wanting any of this”.

You relaxed in his arms, feeling grateful for him but also bad that you could feel how aroused he was against your stomach. “Thank you. I’m just feeling so tired today. Please don’t let me stop you both, continue without me, I just want to go to sleep”.

“You don’t have to give us reasons why you don’t want to do it, baby, we’ll do whatever you want to do. Me and Buck don’t have to fuck if you want to be held, I don’t want you thinking we’re neglecting you”.

Affection and love warmed your heart as you kissed Steve’s lips and then reached over his shoulder to kiss Bucky. “I love you both but seriously please continue, I like watching you both anyway so that’ll satisfy me enough if I’m not asleep by that point anyway”.

They both gave their love back to you with praises and pecks to your face before rolling away from you and beginning their exploration of each other's bodies. You watched with a smile on your face for a couple of moments and your core ached with need but as a burst of pain pounded through your temple, your eyes shut automatically to help ease the pain and from there, they never opened again as sleep took you soon after.

The next morning, your migraine had gone but your entire body felt weak and drained of any energy. Steve and Bucky took one look at you and determined that they’d be working from home, wishing to remain near you but they still needed the comfort of their home office upstairs whereas you remained downstairs, pretending to watch TV.

Somehow, you had continued to hide your seasonal illness, they just thought you still looked peaky. Today was the worst you’d felt so far, even having to use the wall as support whilst walking around the home, silently coughing into cushions so that the boys wouldn’t hear upstairs and this only increased the sharp pain shooting through your chest.

At lunchtime, Sam came over to visit and found you at the table in the kitchen, head lying against the table top as you dipped in and out of sleep. You were too tired to even pretend to joke and thankfully for once he didn’t pester you with being unwell, especially knowing Steve and Bucky were home, he assumed they had seen how bad you were so he just sat next to you at the table, easing his hand under your head so you had some comfort against the hard surface.

Soon after, Rafael knocked on the front door with your soup delivery. Usually h,e would stay at the door, never coming into your home but Sam insisted that he come out of the cold and deliver the soup to you in person.

“Yay!” you croaked, reaching out for the warm container, seeing the soup within and seeing that it was a deep red colour today, possibly tomato.

“I didn’t know you cooked, Rafael”, Sam noted, taking his seat next to yours once more as the new guard stayed standing at the head of the table. Other than Natasha, Sam was the lead of the security and guards and technically Rafael’s boss.

“Oh yeah, he used to be a chef”, you explained to Sam, whilst opening the lid of the container, smelling the delicious food and confirming your theory that it was tomato soup.

“Chef? I didn’t know you worked as a chef”, Sam remarked with a frown, eyeing Rafael with confusion as he’d been the one to complete the job interview and didn’t remember seeing chef on his CV.

Rafael casually shrugged his shoulders, looking somewhat tense at the questioning but still forced a smile to his face to please his boss. “I didn’t think it was relevant to the job, to be honest”.

“We’ll have to get you on the bbq when the weather perks up, maybe that’ll stop the arguments between Steve and Bucky”, Sam mused over the thought.

You tried to chuckle but the exhaustion had you slumping against the table as you mumbled, “I feel like shit”.

Sam tensed next to you, “Maybe we should call a doctor. You know, I’m surprised Steve and Bucky aren’t down here right now looking after you, do they even know how bad you’re feeling today?”

“Wait, they’re both here?” Rafael asked Sam but he ignored him, his focus solely on you.

Once again you’re too tired to think of an answer and shrug your shoulders, turning your head to look up at Rafael, “I think the fairies like me too much”.

“Fairies?”, Sam questions thinking that you’d become delirious.

You smile genuinely to Sam, reaching to tap his shoulder, “Inside joke Sam, keep up”.

There was no further discussion of fairies as more hacking coughs ripped through you. It took a couple of moments and Sam rushed to get you a glass of water before you slumped back against the table in exhaustion.

“Why don’t you have the soup and then see how you’re feeling later? Maybe the rest is all you need”, Rafael suggested, filling the silence with his voice.

You couldn’t see it but Sam gave his employee a scathing look, “Rest is all she’s been doing. I’m calling the doc and then I’m going upstairs to tell Steve and Bucky”.

“Aren’t they busy?” Rafael continued to question Sam. “I’ve heard they’ve got that deal coming up from Italy and France, they might appreciate it if you wait a little bit before calling Doctors”.

Sam’s voice was quiet and stern but you were too tired to notice. “That’s not common knowledge, how do you know that?”.

Massaging your temples with the pounding thuds that hadn’t stopped since your coughing fit, you decided that Rafael was right, usually sleep made you feel better. Reaching for the soup one more, you opened the container as you addressed your bodyguard, “he’s right Sam. I just need today for all the work stuff to be over and then I’ll call the doctor. The boys don’t need any distractions, especially today, one more day isn’t going to kill me”.

Sam didn’t look happy as you began to idly sip on the thick, delicious soup. As you thanked Rafael for the meal, Sam finally looked back to him, his frown deep and unmoving as he asked, “Don’t you have work to do?”

Rafael’s spine straightened, “Oh yeah, right. Sorry, sir” and with that, he left to return to work.

“You don’t have to be so bossy you know, he’s just trying to help”, you tried to reason with Sam.

However, your friend ignored you and moved to hold your hand to pull your attention away from the meal and towards him. “I’m giving you until the evening, wait no- if you get any worse before the evening, I am calling the Doc, no arguments, understand?”

“Yes sir”, you say with a little salute.

Finishing your soup, your boyfriends finally came downstairs and you attempted to straighten your posture and plaster a fake smile on your face. Bucky paused in the entryway, sniffing the air and asking, “What’s that smell, I know it's from somewhere but can’t put my finger on it”.

“Is it my soup?” you say, trying to stand up and act like the floor was spinning beneath you.

“No, it’s not that”, he pondered, still looking around and trying to smell whatever he recognised but couldn’t pick it up again. Steve and Bucky both walked past you, kissing the back of your head as you casually explained that you were going to lie down for a little bit. “Wait, let me come with you-”, Bucky started but you held out your hand to stop him.

“You’ve got a busy time at work and I’ve got Sammy boy here anyway so you two continue with your work and we’ll have a nice evening in, Ok?”

“Yes Ma’am”, he mutters before continuing to make his lunch. It wasn’t often that he listened to your instructions but both men were so busy and overwhelmed with work and the consequences that could come from it all that they were all over the place.

The next hour passed by slowly and you didn’t manage to sleep even for a moment because your symptoms were making you feel so awful. You were wheezing so bad that each breath felt like you were suffocating, your eyes began to roll with how much the room was spinning and a violent tremble rocked through your entire body, you didn’t feel right, something was wrong and it was beginning to scare you.

“Sam?” your voice was nothing more than a rasping whisper but he still was able to hear you from where he had been on the phone with the doctor from across the room, having noticed your deterioration in health. He was kneeling by your side in a couple of broad steps, the phone balancing between his cheek and shoulder as he rested a hand on your temple, feeling your spiked temperature. “I don’t feel good”, you admitted, voice full of terror before more coughs ruptured through your chest, leaving you struggling to breathe.

“Steve! Bucky get down here right now!”

“No… no, I just need to sleep”, the fear had disappeared from your voice as you wished for the exhaustion to take you completely, hoping that in sleep you wouldn't feel the pain destroying your insides.

“Hey! No!  Don’t go t sleep, need you to stay awake for me, Doctor Banner is on his way but you can’t go to sleep”, Sam urgently tapped your face, rousing you from the sleep as Bucky had all but jumped down the entire flight of stairs at the shouting.

“What’s going on- What the fuck? Doll?” he replaced where Sam was so that he could continue to explain to the doctor what was happening.

“I’m just not feeling ok, it’s fine Bucky go back to work”, you were somewhat delirious, still not really opening your eyes but leaning into the coldness from Bucky’s hand as he cupped your face. Bucky looked to Sam for answers, his eyes bright and alert with fury and worry.

When Sam shrugged his shoulders, not having any answer as to why you were suddenly so unwell, Bucky quickly turned back to you and assessed your deteriorating health and noticed just how laboured your breathing had become. As he spoke, it was with surprising gentleness but still held authority, “I need you to take a deep breath for me, honey, I want you to try and fill your lungs with air”.

“I’m trying, it’s just seasonal illness, it’ll be ok”.

“What are you talking about?” Bucky asks, not letting go of your face but just moving in closer.

“It’s just seasonal”, your words began to slur as you became incoherent.

Steve finally descended the stairs with just as much purpose as Bucky as he demanded to know what was going on but Bucky couldn’t answer him as he continued to talk to you and keep you awake. “It’s not seasonal, you’re not breathing properly, it’s not-”. Bucky was leaning so close that he was able to smell your breath and he froze, it looked like he now wasn’t even breathing.

“What is it Bucky?” Steve demanded, kneeling next to him and reaching over to take your hand but also feel your pulse, which only made his own increase with worry.

Bucky leans closer and smells your mouth again, so close that you tried to move away as his nose nudged your lips. “What did you eat?” Bucky asked in a tone that forced your eyes to open with concern.

“Huh? Um just my soup”, you say whilst blinking quickly as he still wouldn’t come into focus.

“Soup? Where is it? Where’s the container?” before you could answer, he was on his feet and running into the kitchen as Steve continued to demand answers from his boyfriend, his hand now moving from your wrist to directly over your heart, continuing to count the beats.

Bucky cursed so violently that it actually made you shrink into the cushions but the movement only made you cough more and chest tighten as you struggled to breathe. He returned to the room, his face a deathly white and green shade as he uttered just one word: “Hemlock”.

There was just one brief second where not a body in the room breathed or even moved, one single second to process the poison that Bucky had spoken, the planet that he only knew about because of his time as the Winter Soldier and using it on his target. The poison that he could now smell on your breath, that originated from your container of soup.

It was Sam to speak first, Sam to snap the two men out of their frozen states as he gave the orders from Doctor Banner who had heard the word over the phone. “We need to get her to a hospital right now”.

Steve picked you up, and his entire body began to tremble with adrenaline and fear as no one even stopped to properly dress for the snow outside, only putting their shoes on before rushing to the car. Sam thankfully was able to use the adrenaline to remain headstrong as he climbed into the driver’s side of the car so that Steve and Bucky could both hold you in the back seats and try and keep you awake.

You were lying with your head in Steve’s lap with your body lying across Bucky’s as they clamped their arms around you as makeshift seatbelts. You had heard the word that Bucky had said and even though you knew what it was, you didn’t want to believe it, even as you continued to feel worse. “It’s not poison, it’s just soup”.

However, those words triggered something within your throat and once more you were coughing so hard that you thought you were going to vomit and cringed as metallic warmth filled your mouth and leaked out of the corner of your lips.

You slumped onto Steve and Bucky, head lulling back but Steve was quick to grab your face, tapping it and forcing you to stay awake, “Baby don’t go to sleep! Please stay awake for me! Stay with us, we’ll be at the hospital soon, I promise”.

You were scared, even though you were half-conscious, you were terrified now realising the severity of the situation, knowing that you were coughing up blood which was now soaking the front of Steve’s shirt and hearing how panicked your boyfriends were only made it worse. Through all the scary, dangerous times in your life, they always remained calm and in control but now they were both frantic and frightened. 

As all three men continued to plead with you to stay awake, you forced yourself to open your eyes, only allowing yourself the luxury of blinking occasionally as you kept looking into Steve’s ocean-blue eyes. With his body and face so close to yours, you used him to ground you in the situation, trying to copy his breathing which had slowed since you’d opened your eyes; ignoring the pain from the breaths and resisting the urges to cough even though blood continued to fill your mouth.

“Am I going to die?” you whisper, not being able to ignore the questions now in the back of your mind anymore.

Steve’s breath hitched for a second before he tried to confidently whisper, “No, you’re not going to die”.

You didn’t believe him, especially as the trip to the hospital was delayed by the snow, every second feeling like it could be your worse, you didn’t want it to end like this.

“I love you.”

“You’re going to be ok, just keep looking at Steve, keep breathing”, Bucky pleaded, squeezing your freezing cold hand.

“Please, just say it back”, your voice was hardly audible anymore as your mouth was so full of blood.

“Stop talking and save your energy for when you’re feeling better”, Bucky tried to keep his composure but you knew he was close to snapping.

Your breaths were wet and laboured, wheezing so violently it rattled and echoed around the car but you still managed to plead, “Say it back-”.

“I love you, I love you so fucking much, please don’t leave me, baby”. Steve snapped first, his eyes were wide, fearful and yet beautiful with how stark the blue was as his eyes filled with tears, leaking down his cheek and into his beard.

You were thankful, for both of them, for everything and you wish you could have told them, wishing that you could have heard Bucky’s own declaration of love and adoration for you but the pounding of your heartbeat became so loud in your head that you couldn’t hear anything anymore.

But you continued to hold on, never once looking away from those pretty eyes of Steve’s as Sam finally screeched to a halt outside of the hospital. Once more, Steve carried you and there was a flurry of people in different coloured scrubs suddenly surrounding you as you were placed onto a cold bed.

One moment you were staring into Steve’s eyes and the next you were looking up at a stranger and the comfort you’d once felt, the thing that was grounding you to life was now gone and you couldn’t find him again, no matter how much you moved on the bed, even as the strangers poked and prodded at your body until you couldn’t deal with it anymore and finally closed your eyes.

Do you ever have those naps where you wake up and forget where you are, or what time or day it is? That was currently how you felt except the added sensation of floating encompassed your body as well. The only sort of normality felt throughout your body was a cool feminine hand stroking across your temple in a soothing, repetitive manner.

Your toes wiggled firstly and then your eyes behind your eyelids and even though you knew who was stroking your forehead, you still croakily asked, “Steve? Bucky?”

“It’s just me Sugar” Natasha sounded calm and peaceful as her fingers didn’t stop with their soothing motions. “The boys are going to be so pissed that you’re awake before they’ve got back”.

You huff and dared to open your eyes, grunting at the brightness of the room but thankfully your eyes adjusted and only one, still, Natasha smiled down at you. Seeing that you weren’t going to vomit or freak out, Natasha sat back in her chair, moving to hold onto your hand to give you some comfort. “You gave us a real scare”.

You thought back to everything that happened, some of it was a blur but most of it still played through your mind like a horror movie that you couldn’t look away from or escape. “Was I really poisoned?”

There was one thing that you appreciated about Natasha and that was her blunt honesty, not one to ever sugarcoat her words, “You were”.

“But… But how? I mean… the soup, Rafael, he wouldn’t-”. You stopped yourself talking, trying to envision all the interactions you’d had with him but only one thing repeated through your thoughts: Don’t trust anyone. That was one of the first rules Steve had taught you. “I don’t understand why? He seemed so nice to me, is his name even Rafael? Was everything a lie?”

“That’s what they’re just finding out. Apparently, the friend of a friend rouse was made up including his credentials, usually, our background checks are very thorough but he had some help to slip through the cracks”.

“Do you know what help he had? Who it was, I mean?”

Natasha for once seemed to think before she spoke which unnerved you, knowing that whoever’s name she spoke next wouldn’t be good news.

The monitor displaying your heartbeat began to beep as it increased with the dread that was settling through your body.

“All signs are currently pointing to Pierce”.

Your eyes closed as you tried to remember how to breathe. You knew about Alexander Pierce. Everyone did. He was ruthless and had plenty of finances and power to pay for his success but not only this, he had been one of the top employees of Hydra and usually in charge of the Winter Soldier. So yes, you all knew a lot about Alexander Pierce and his name was one to send fear through any of those involved in the Rogers mafia, even Steve.

As you opened your eyes again to look at Natasha, you could tell she wanted to tell you more but was holding the information to not panic you further but you needed to know. “Please just tell me whatever it is you’re not telling me”.

“We think he paid this guy to come and spy on Steve and Bbucky and it seems he put his sights on you. Specifically.. Because you’re their biggest weakness and it seemed like everyone knows that”.

Your face warmed with fear and anger, as fear prickled the corner of your eyes, “So what, now I’m not even safe in my own home?”

“That’s not-” Tasha began to lean forward in her seat but another voice cut her off.

“No, you weren’t safe in your own home”. Steve stood at your hospital room door, dressed casually in a black shirt and jeans, looking nothing out of the ordinary but his face was wrath of calm and anger. Your eyes snapped from him to Bucky who had looked just as serious but as your eyes connected with his, the hard lines of his face smoothed out into a weak smile.

The two of them step into the room as Natasha stands, informing everyone that she’d give us some space and guard the door.

You’re trying desperately to keep the tears at bay, to keep them from slipping and cascading down your cheeks, not wanting your boyfriends to feel any more guilt but as you took a deep breath in, a sob erupts through you and you can’t keep the emotions back anymore.

You attempted to hide your face with your hands, even with the added difficulty of having tubes and wires attached to the backs of your hands and the tips of your fingers. The realities of everything that had happened began to destroy any hope that you had. You’d nearly died, in your own home where you were supposed to be most safe.

Steve and Bucky sat on either side of your hospital bed, moving silently as they always did and with careful ease, gently took a hand each and pried them away from your face, stroking away any tears that continued to escape.

“I’m sorry, I just- I don’t know… It’s a lot”, you tried to give reason for your crying, even though it was unnecessary. Bucky tilted your face towards him, his voice was so soft and caring that it nearly made you sob with how careful he was being with you, “Don’t apologise for crying, I tell you this all the time, Doll”.

You offered him a wet giggle, taking a few deep breaths before rambling on with your anxiety, “I bet I look like a right mess right now, I don’t even know how long I’ve been asleep for”.

They let you calm yourself down before Steve praises with his low captivating voice, “You always look beautiful, no matter how much snot is on your face”. He smiles as he manages to make you laugh before he turned serious, “It’s been 5 days, baby”.

Your face drops, “5… I’ve been asleep for 5 days?!”

“You passed out when we arrived and when they could finally stop the bleeding you-”

“Bleeding?” you questioned, remembering you were bleeding from the mouth but it didn’t seem like that much.

“The poison you’d ingested that day was a higher dose and caused internal bleeding. After they were able to stabilise you, they needed to detox you from the poison and make sure your body was healing so it was safe to keep you asleep”.

You tried to process everything that Steve had told you, it felt confusing for you to have been through so much and yet feel such little pain in your body.

As if reading your mind, Bucky once again captivated your attention as he asked, “How are you feeling? Are you in pain?”

“No I’m not in any pain but I feel wrong like my body is floating in the water or something”.

“That might be due to the medications that they’ve got you on, they’re pretty strong Sweetheart”, his pet name helped to calm your disorientated mind, clinging on to the familiarity and focusing on the way both of their hands were holding yours and stroking tiny circles in your skin,

“Did you get the answers you wanted, from Rafael, or whatever his name is”.

Steve and Bucky shared a glance between each other but Steve decided to be the one to answer. “We got the answers, it was as Nat was explaining. Pierce wanted someone in the gang, spying and getting as close to us as possible and I guess they somehow managed to weasel their way in and tried to succeed with their plan to hit our weak spot”.

You took a deep breath to try and reduce the rising anxiety in the pit of your stomach before asking tentatively, “So what happens now? With Pierce I mean.”

“That’s a problem for another time, just need you to get better first”, Bucky interjected, lifting your hand to kiss the few fingers that were attached with clips or wires.

You tried to smile at him, wanting him to know how much you appreciate him but the feeling never met your eyes and this seemed to twist something in Steve and Bucky. Both of their demeanours changed, no longer were you looking at just your boyfriends but also the mafia boss and his second in command, mixing business with family.

Bucky began talking first, tone strong and husky, “This isn’t something we are taking likely. Sam’s already spent the last day and a half revisiting everyone’s past, making sure there are no other moles that have slipped through the cracks. No new faces are allowed anywhere near our home or you.”

As he spoke, you managed sure to nod your head and try to squeeze his hand in understanding. Steve shifted in his chair, capturing your attention as he continued the discussion. “You are safe and you should have been safe but we let you down, you were vulnerable when we weren’t there to protect you like we promised we would. We let you down, we broke our promise, we could understand if you didn’t want-”.

“Whatever you’re about to say you better forget about it right now”, you say sternly, heartbeat beginning to race on the monitor again as Steve’s mouth shut quickly with a snap. “The idea of being your weakness has always frightened me but, I could also be your greatest strength. I mean - Look at what you’ve been going just to protect the house, to protect me. I know you feel like you’ve let me down but I don’t feel let down in any way. Yes, of course, what’s happened is scary, especially in our home but I doubt it’ll ever happen again. They can try and tear us apart, they can try, but they won’t break us, they can’t break us. We have to remain on top ok? I always feel safe and trusted when I’,m with you both so please, don’t ever feel like I'm not because I am. I’ll always love you both, I’m not going anywhere”.

You sucked in air greedily after your short speech, the building emotions spilling freely everything you truly believed to the men beside you, not wishing for them to ever feel doubt for the relationship or how you felt.

Looking between them both, your heart sank as you noticed Bucky quickly wipe the corner of his eye. “I thought you said no more tears”, you spoke softly whilst trying to wipe away a stray tear.

“That’s before you decided to swoon me with your speech”, he quipped back, the light returning to his eyes once more as you laughed.

“I love you Bucky”.

“I love you, Doll”, standing from his chair, his metal hand stroked over the side of your face as he captured your lips with his, lingering for a few beautiful seconds before sitting back down.

Steve had lifted your hand during your speech and was kissing your palm and you reached out to stroke his beard, “I love you, Steve”.

He too stood, just as Bucky had but he kissed your forehead first, breathing you in for a moment before doing the same against your lips. “I love you too, so much baby”.

As Steve sat back down, your eyes began to feel heavy, all of the strong emotions exhausted you completely. “Will you both be here when I wake up? Not that I’m complaining about Natasha but she doesn’t spoon me like you both do”.

They both chuckle under their breath before Steve promises, “We aren’t going anywhere, sleep, Sweetheart”.

#stucky x reader #stucky smut #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #stucky #bucky x reader #bucky smut #bucky #bucky barnes #marvel smut #mafia au #mafia stucky #mine*

[cybrsan]

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

[bunnyreaper]

𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖘 𝔞 𝔰𝔬𝔞𝔭 𝔪𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝖕𝖙 1 — 𝖕𝖙 2 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 wc - 5.7k warnings - 18+/nsfw, dom sub dynamic, eventual romance/smut, medium burn? notes - first part of my owner!soap x pet!reader, woohoo! i already regret writing something centered around texting and calling lmao, crying!! the formatting is killing me!! anyway, also on ao3! and if you wanna send a request, pls do! ♥

Lonely girl looking for owner. 

Posting on this subreddit again was probably a mistake—but a deep-down part of you clings to the hope that this time will be the time you find someone, the time you get to go home to him. 

At least this time, you'll be better at spotting the signs right off the bat—if only you can take off the rose-tinted glasses long enough to take note.

Your inbox is flooded with the usual kinds of messages—unsolicited pictures, low-effort one-sentence wonders, and so-called doms jumping straight to the part where they call you a nasty whore with no actual consideration for the person you are. 

You're just about to give up, delete the post, and ignore all chat requests when a message arrives in your inbox. 

From: squeakycleanscot 

Subject: Lonely guy looking for girl

Hi,

Saw your post and knew I had to message. You sound like everything I'm looking for and more.

I'm a little younger than the age you put on your post, but I think I fit your other requirements. I'm 27, Scottish (yes, with the accent), and in the army, I hope that's a turn-on rather than a turn-off.

When I'm not deployed, I like cosy nights in, preferably with my love by my side. Don't mind a night at the pub either, especially if there's a Celtic match on, not that anywhere near here shows them. 

I'm looking for something longer term like you mentioned (would love to collar my girl one day, which is probably ironic considering I'm a wee bit scared of dogs.)

Happy to send a picture if you'd like :) 

Hope to hear from you soon, 

Johnny.

Johnny. 

You reread the message, turning his words over in your mind. 

Something about his message has your attention—it at least suggests he has a brain in his head and a heart capable of empathy, and that maybe he's serious. 

You begin typing your reply instantly, your fingers moving so fast you have to type and retype so many parts to rid the message of all of the overexcited mistakes.

hi johnny, 

scottish?! is it bad im already imagining how your dirty talk will sound? 

it's funny, i always wanted to join the army growing up, but it never worked out. maybe it's for the best as now i'm not immune to enjoying a hot man in uniform... which I'm assuming you are ;) 

cosy nights in are my favourite too! I'm a bit of a homebody and love being snuggled up more than anything. i have to let you know in advance that you have some stiff competition in the form of my giant teddy bear, barnaby. 

i'm looking for something longer term too, or at least not a one night kind of thing—a collar one day would be the dream &lt;;3 

if you send a picture, ill send one back, nothing sexy just yet though, if that's okay? 

have you met up with someone off here before? just curious about your experiences! 

y/n

As soon as the message is sent, the overthinking kicks in—was that too much? Is he going to think you're weird? 

You shuffle in bed, turning over between the sheets and trying to flick through other apps as you wait for a reply—otherwise, you'd just be staring at the notifications bar waiting for that silly little robot face to pop up. 

Johnny doesn't leave you waiting long, only a few minutes passing from your last message.

Maybe you'll find out sooner rather than later just how my dirty talk sounds ;) 

I tried to sneak in before I was old enough, but they caught on. Served since I was 18 though, you'll have a lot of stories ready from me if you're ever willing to listen. Not sure if the uniform is anything like you're thinking though, in my unit it's mostly just t-shirts, tac vests and trousers. 

I'll prepare my best snuggling arms for if we ever meet. You should inform Barnaby now about his replacement, mind. 

Can't not send a sexy photo though, sorry lass, all my pictures are. I'm sure you understand, lol

Haven't met anyone, had a few conversations but nothing worth pursuing, and had kind of given up until I saw your post. 

His message is the perfect mix of sexy, sweet, and sincere—and if that is the essence of the man, you know he's everything you're looking for. 

You try not to think too hard about a hot Scottish accent calling you all your favourite names or telling you exactly what to do, or even those stories he has to tell, as the idea is all too exciting. 

Reading his message, you instinctively reach out to pat Barnaby when you see he may end up replaced—hopefully the poor bear will understand when he has to vacate the bed for this sexy soldier man. 

looking forward to it. can I start putting in requests now for bedtime stories too?

i still wanna see, maybe in your sexy-not-sexy pic? 

barnaby will be devastated by the news, and you may have to give him hugs too (but not for too long, or i'll get lonely!!!)

same here, about things not going anywhere... or people turning out to be a bit scary, so you're not allowed to let me down, okay? 

Maybe the last part of the message was too much, but your heart is already soaring with unbridled hope—along with that hope comes doubt too. 

Each second waiting for a reply drags, and you take to re-reading his messages and clicking on his profile to investigate. 

It's largely empty of posts, but there are tons of comments across different communities—including his aforementioned football team, r/Scotland, and eyebleach. 

Clearly, he's a softie at heart. 

When his next message comes through, it's an Imgur link with a short message. 

Here we go, a few months old though now. Don't have anything more recent from work :) 

You take a moment or two to steady yourself before you tap the link. While you definitely feel like you and Johnny have already started to click, if he's not your type then it probably won't go anywhere... 

It's a situation you've been in before—great conversation, similar interests but no physical attraction, and back then you didn't have the heart to break it off straight away.

You tap the link and are greeted by a full-body shot of a tall, well-built man in tactical clothes. His hair is a neatly trimmed mohawk, and while his face isn't crystal clear, he's clearly fucking handsome. His biceps bulge from the gray tee stretched over his torso, his large hands are covered with gloves and grasping a gun.

Your eyes trail to his long legs, thick thighs encased in camo and strapped with various holsters. All in all, the picture is perfect. You find yourself zooming in desperately to get a better look at his face, the handsome jaw lined with stubble that you can already imagine between your legs. The whole image and every new detail has you squirming in your bed, and cheekily wishing to save the image to your phone.

holyfwucj 

holy fuck 

Like what you see? 

i need a hug from you urgently. 

now i feel shy... 

It had crossed your mind ever so slightly that Johnny may be out of your league, or that he simply may not be attracted to someone like you, which would be a complete shame. Now you've set eyes on him, you want him even more—want to kneel at those feet and stare up at his hulking figure while he tugs on a leash around your neck. 

Hopefully, just like you, he'll be smitten from the first glance. 

Scrolling through your camera roll, you decide you don't exactly love any recent photos of yourself. The ones at your last work event have you looking far too corporate, and the only image from your last night out was taking in a bathroom mirror in the local Wetherspoons—neither of which is ideal. 

You crawl out from the warmth of your sheets, kneeling on the end of the bed and posing as you point your camera in the mirror that sits across the room and captures you perfectly. Before you start snapping, you adjust your top to make sure too much isn't on display, even though it's strappy and cropped, and definitely a little bit more on the tantalising side as far as your pyjamas go. 

Hopefully, Johnny likes the pose and the outfit... and you. You can see your smiling face just to the side of your phone as you press to capture the picture—and when you return to your inbox to send the picture link, a message is waiting for you. 

I already know you're gorgeous. Don't leave me hanging, bonnie. 

okay. this is me now, all ready for bed!! 

Holy fuck yourself.

And I'm assuming that's Barnaby in the background. 

If he notices the pose, he doesn't comment on it, instead delighting your heart by commenting on Barnaby instead.

sure is! he's ready for snuggles and sleep. 

Can you do me a favour? 

That message makes your heart skip because usually when something like that is asked, it's followed with a request for nudes or something sexual—and while that is a large part of something like this, you crave the connection first, crave someone actually sticking around and getting to know you. 

depends on what it is!

Tell Barnaby to keep looking after you until I get there, yeah? 

does that mean you're coming for me?

One day, if we're both lucky.

seems promising so far, Johnny. 

Get some sleep, yeah? Maybe tomorrow night I'll give you a bell. 

The idea of this conversation ending is heart-wrenching, but at least sleep will bring you closer to that possible phone call. Hearing his voice, now that will be even more incredible. 

how do you expect me to sleep after telling me that? so mean! 

Patience, bonnie. Be good for me? 

You clench, your thighs squeezing together as arousal rushes through you. It's like he knows exactly how far to go, what buttons to press, what you're looking for.

It's the right kind of commanding, toeing the line perfectly between flirtatious and in charge. A lot of guys you've talked to have rushed it made commands too early, and sent you running. Johnny's words, be good for me? You can't help but want to behave. 

okay, but I see how this is going to be :( 

Bet you look so fucking good with a pout ;) 

now you're just being a cruel tease, Johnny... 

Sorry, I'll stop. Sleep, yeah, for me?

cuddling up to barnaby now. 

You decide to attach another picture, your eyes screwed shut and cheeks squished as you wrap yourself around the bear and cuddle up under the sheets. 

talk tomorrow?

Of course, bonnie, sweet dreams &lt;;3 

You lock your phone, your eyes feeling relieved as they adjust to the darkness. 

For a brief moment, you just clutch your phone to your chest and recall the picture Johnny had sent, how much you'd love to be wrapped up in his arms tonight. 

He's the only thing on your mind as you drift off to sleep.

-//-

Your dreams are tumultuous, starting off with a nightmare of being chased and chased until your legs give out, only for you to find salvation and safety in a stranger's arms—one who seemed vaguely familiar. 

The first thing you do when you wake is roll over to check your phone, elation overtaking you when you see a notification from Johnny already waiting there—already he's blessing you with a good morning message.

Good morning, sweet girl.

Attached under the picture is another image link, and clicking on it brings up an absolutely gorgeous picture of Johnny, lazing in bed. There's just enough light in the room for you to see the brightness of his eyes that you couldn't see before—his mohawk is mussed, and his smile is easy, drawing you in. 

He's even more handsome in this up close photo, you can only imagine what he looks like in person, right before you. 

morning Johnny <3 how did you sleep? 

Like a baby. Yourself? 

not the best, but I swear you were in my dream. 

Sorry to hear that, but oh already? What did I do? 

I mean, it was a bulky guy with a mohawk but he didn't have your name, I think it was meant to be you though. 

You recall the safety you felt in the arms of the strange figure, it was serene, and everything you hope to feel when you find the one—hopefully that's Johnny.

My dreams were shite, you didn't show up. 

i'll try harder to be there tonight!! 

Promise? 

promise. 

God, he's so fucking sweet. It's hard to imagine he's into all the things you mentioned in your initial post, at least right now. But you're all too familiar with how appearances can be deceiving—you wonder what else your sweet Scot is into. 

You peel back the covers and head out into the kitchen, flicking the kettle on mindlessly as you keep your eyes fixated on the screen—not wanting to be even a minute late to answering Johnny's texts, even though it seems there's a natural lull in the conversation. 

You return your focus to making your tea, and your thoughts don't drift from Johnny for even a moment, as you ponder ways to keep the conversation going. Admittedly, you have a million and one questions you want, but you don't want to come across too... eager? clingy? Like some serial killer fiending for information? 

It's crazy the way your heart yearns for him so soon—and it's crazy the way that you wish he feels the same as you do. You wonder how his day is going, and if he's staring at your phone waiting for your message.

With tea brewed, you set it on the coffee table and flop onto the plush couch, rushing to open the app when a new notification pops up.

What's your plan for the day? 

lazy day, binge-watching... texting you? wbu? 

I have to work for a bit, but I'll message you when I can. 

On a weekend? That's horrible, but I imagine they run a tight ship over there. 

You rush to follow up your message with something else. 

will you still be able to call tonight? 

Aye, give me your number, I'll save it! 

You send off your number and don't hear anything from Johnny for a good few hours. You pass the time watching one of your favourite shows, and trying to resist the urge to go scroll down Johnny's profile once more.  

The next time a message pops up, it's well past lunch.

Cute profile pic on whatsapp.

Johnny has clearly added your number to his contacts and spied your picture on the app. You blush thinking of him seeing you in that costume—especially after he knows what you're into.

it was Halloween, I swear!! 

You make an adorable little kitten, lass.

imagination running wild now? ;) 

Aye, but I'm a gent. 

hopefully not always...

Oh, you'll see. Talk to you tonight, kitty. 

talk to you then &lt;;3 

Now you're just itching, waiting for the hours to crawl by for Johnny's workday to end, so you can talk to him again, so you can finally hear his voice. 

What will it sound like saying your name? Whispering sweet nothings in your ears? 

The hours pass slowly until a different notification lights up your phone as you cuddle into your sheets.

Hey, it's Johnny! Just got home. 

You scramble to click on the pop-up, spying his own profile picture in the corner—tapping on it to view it closer. 

It's the Johnny you recognise, smiling wide with his arm slung around another man. He looks so ridiculously happy, probably due to the pint in his other hand. The more you look at him, the more you can't believe you're talking to this man, that he wants to talk to you. 

You quickly add him to your contacts, putting a heart next to his name, before you return to the chat and begin to type.

i'm not the only one with a cute pfp!! 

Three sheets to the wind in that picture, actually.

i can tell &lt;3

Ready to call? 

whenever you're ready!

The image of him floods your screen, the screen pulsing as it waits for you to accept. Your fingers tremble as you press the button, and you fall silent as you press the phone to your ear, nerves gripping at your throat. 

"Hi, bonnie." His voice drifts from the phone speaker, sweet like honey and warm like sunshine, with that gorgeous accent too. 

"Hi." You squeak out, silently cursing at yourself for being so nervous and seemingly unable to speak. 

A melodic laugh follows your words, amused but not cruel or mocking. "Are you nervous?" His voice is soothing, his concern and sweet nature evident. 

You cradle your burning cheek, feeling the way your blush spreads across your smiling face. "Just a little, can you blame me?" 

He's laughing again, and you hear a shuffling noise that suggests he's getting comfortable. "Don't be, I'll look after yer, I promise." 

Fuck. You could get used to hearing that. "I really like your voice." You admit, whispering into the phone with a ridiculous grin on your face. 

"I like yours too, you sound so sweet." 

You drop your voice lower, giggling mischievously. "Only sometimes." 

"That's what I like ta hear." The way Johnny's voice dips as he says that has your insides fluttering, but you can only assume he's returning the favour. His tone returns to its usual charming tone as he asks, "How was your lazy day?" 

"Well, I kind of spent a fair bit of it distracted, thinking about this important call I was going to have tonight..." 

"Oh aye, I should get off the phone so you can wait then." 

"Funny. How was yours? What do you even do day to day, anyway?" You ask, voice brimming with curiosity—there are so many things you want to ask, but you imagine his job can be secretive. 

"Lots of training, and sometimes paperwork, which is right shite." 

"Not when you don't have someone under the desk keeping you company." You laugh, taking the chance to flirt. If you were into Johnny after reading his messages, actually hearing his voice is only making your attraction soar. 

A quiet fuck can be heard, as the man on the end of the phone heaves out a breath. "I'll have ta look into getting you clearance if you keep talking like that, lass." 

"Glad to be of service, what can I say?" You find yourself in a giggle fit at your own silliness, a mix of nerves and joy at enjoying yourself so much.

"God, I love yer laugh." The deep sincerity in his voice makes your chest tighten. 

The drug that is Johnny is already so intoxicating. 

"I'm so glad you can't see me blushing." 

"I'm no'." He sounds so indignant about that. "But I could listen to that laugh all day, really."

If only he could see you pout too. "Now you're just trying to make me blush more." 

He chuckles, his voice dropping dangerously flirtatious again. "Maybe I am, nothing you can do about it."

"Now I'm pouting." 

"Better not pout in front of me, lass." His suggestive tone makes you shiver. 

"Oh, why's that?" You ask, playing coy. 

"'Cause I'll just have to start kissing ya, might even nibble on those soft little lips." 

You suppress a delighted squeak, already so flustered at even the idea of a kiss. "I'm not hearing a downside." 

"No?" 

"Nope." 

"Might not be gentle with you, though." 

"Good thing that I like it rough." The words are out of you before you can reconsider, but they have exactly the effect you intend as you hear Johnny inhale sharply.

"Ach, you and yer wicked mouth." 

"You have no idea..." 

He lets out a rough exhale, his voice turning gravelly and deep. "Fuck, bonnie." 

"Hey, I'm only repaying the favour, I've been squirming desperately pretty much since I picked up the phone." 

He whistles approvingly, his voice now teasing and playfully menacing. "Just you wait til I'm really in ya head." 

"You're already making good progress." You admit.

"Oh aye?" 

You hum contentedly, eyes flickering shut for a moment. "I'll be imagining your voice as I fall asleep tonight." 

"I'll just have ta send yer voice notes to drift off to, so I can end up in your dreams again." You can almost hear the smirk in his voice. 

"Already spoiling me, too." 

Fuck, how is it this man seems to know exactly what to say? Everything that comes out of his mouth takes root in your brain and sends your thoughts running wild—it's like he's already in your head, or as if someone made him in a lab.

"I'll spoil ya every day, if you're ever mine." 

You groan in frustration, unbelieving that a stranger can be so seemingly perfect. "How are you even single, Johnny?" 

"I could ask you the same. Taking everything in me to not ask for an address right now, if I'm being honest." He huffs a laugh. 

While the idea is thrilling, you know you should have at least some sense of preservation, and shouldn't blurt out your postcode for this strange man you barely know. "I'm worth the wait, I swear." You whisper your promise. 

"I'm sure yer are. But to answer your question, my work keeps me busy a lot, and this lifestyle isn't for everyone." There's a hint of vulnerability to his voice, and you sense such a fact is a sore point in his personal life. 

In the fantasy of all of this, you suppose the reality of the situation isn't something you'd stopped to consider. Life for a man in the military was surely so different from a regular 9-5. "I'm guessing that you're away a lot?" 

"Aye, sometimes for just a few days, sometimes for months, all depends." His admission is soft, as if you can hear in his tone that he's waiting for you to bolt. 

If that's the big 'catch' when it comes to Johnny, you can breathe a sigh of relief. "Yeah, I guess you need someone strong and loyal to hold on and wait for you." 

There's a tense silence, something lingering in the air. 

"Hard to come by, I've found." 

The thought makes your stomach twist in the worst possible way. Johnny, at least on the surface, seems so worthy of love. 

You chance the question that's on the tip of your tongue, hoping Johnny doesn't mind your reckless curiosity. "Have... you been cheated on?" 

"More than once, gets less surprising over the years." He finishes with a sad laugh, as you can tell he tries to infuse humour into the whole thing. 

"That's... horrible." 

Being sent away from your home to face gunfire and warfare, all to keep the people back home safe... only to be betrayed by the people back home who love you, who are supposed to wait for you. It's a gut-wrenching thought, and your heart aches for the man.

"A few of the lads here have a similar story." 

"So the army, not for the faint of heart, and dating an army man, not for the faint of heart." You sigh, though you don't feel put off by the thought.  

"Exactly. That you then? Faint of heart?" 

"No. I mean, inside I'm clingy as hell, and I'd miss you like crazy every day until you got back..." Your emotions overtake you, as you imagine a future where you'd have to kiss the man goodbye for maybe months at a time. "But I get the feeling that what we could have would be worth the wait. Hypothetically of course." 

At that, Johnny laughs, and his light tone returns. "Don't want to get too far ahead of ourselves, aye." 

You don't want to get ahead of yourself, you know you shouldn't, but the way you and Johnny have clicked is unlike anything you've felt before. "But... I have a good feeling." 

"I do too, already dreading putting down the phone." 

"I'm not planning on it anytime soon, even if I have to be up early tomorrow." 

"So do I, alarms set for 4." 

You do not envy his lifestyle one bit.

"That's awful! I'm gonna be so cranky tomorrow, I might have to use my lunch break for a nap." You admit, preemptively yawning into your hand. 

"You one of those perpetually sleepy girls?" 

You nod, even though he can't see it. "The sleepiest." 

"Barnaby is a lucky bear, getting to cuddle up to you so much." 

You burst out laughing at the hint of envy in his words. "Are you... jealous?"

"For now, but soon the tables will turn." He faked an evil laugh, that only makes you giggle harder. 

"Oh, you think you can give better snuggles than him?" 

"Oh, I know I can, bonnie. The bear can't wrap his arms around yer, can't whisper sweet things in your ear..." His voice dips back into that seductive, teasing tone. "... Can't trail his hands down to that pretty little pussy." 

Once more, you flush with desire, every nerve alight as Johnny's words wash over you—although it seems like almost everything he says has your body reacting. "You have an interesting way of cuddling, Johnny."

"Didnae say I was actually gonna do anything once my hands got down there." 

"Well, I wouldn't be opposed." 

"When you're in my arms, you wouldn't have a choice, lass." The dark, dominant voice makes you shiver, makes your submissive instincts awaken. 

"Oh yeah?" 

He hums slowly. "Once you're mine, you leave the choices to me. Johnny knows best, yeah?" 

"Johnny knows best." You whisper breathlessly, the words coming out automatically, like they just feel right.

"Steamin' Jesus, can already tell yer gonna be the death of me." 

"Can't have that, your family won't get your death in service payout!" You laugh awkwardly, before a sense of guilt rears its head. "Sorry, grim joke." 

"I don't mind. You should hear some of the ones my Lt. comes out with, he's a right sick bastard." He chuckles.

"Never want to make light of it and hurt you, though." 

"Telling jokes makes it easier hen, you'll be wishing me dead in no time at all."  

You gasp, shocked by the prospect. "I'd never!" 

"Not even when I deny you from touching yourself for my entire deployment? Months of nothing at all?" The sick grin is evident in his voice. 

"You wouldn't, that's so mean. You're too sweet for that." 

"Aye, for now, but don't you like a little bit of meanness, if yer into men like me..." The edge to his voice and the truth to your words has you trembling. 

"Maybe..." You singsong in response, not wanting to give away just how much you liked the idea of his mean side. 

"Bonnie..." He tuts disapprovingly. "Don't play coy." 

You shudder out a breath as you squeeze your thighs together for relief. "I just don't want you to bully me too much right now, I'm already soaked." 

"Is that right?" He seems delightfully surprised by such a revelation. 

"Mhmm." 

"I'm fucking rock hard if it helps, think I have been since last night..." You hear him shuffle, and you try not to imagine what's happening on the other end of the line, or how he looks lying in bed with said hardness.

When he groans hungrily down the line, you feel yourself quake once more. "The sight of you on your fucking knees... Christ alive." 

You can't help but giggle at your unintended teasing. "It wasn't on purpose, I thought it was cute more than anything." 

"Adorable and naughty, could cum just looking at it." He huffs. 

"You're just flattering me, besides, I could say the same about your picture."

Every part of you flushes thinking of the first photo he sent, all muscle and alpha male—it's like he was the physical embodiment of dominance, and just looking at him makes you want to kneel.

"You like the military get up?" 

"Love it, more than I probably should." 

"Oh aye, bet you'd love for me to order you around?" His words are playful, but underpinned with a hint of promise. "All in due time, eh?" 

"All in due time. What's your rank, anyway?" 

"Sergeant." 

"Wait..." You take a deep breath as you consider your question. "Can I ask for your last name or is it too soon?" 

"Mactavish."

Johnny Mactavish—you should remember to give that a quick Google search later.

"Sergeant Mactavish." You test the name on your tongue, trying to imagine him at work, following and giving orders. 

"Sounds too good when you say it, bonnie." He laughs. 

"Thank you, sergeant." Your affectation of the word is entirely intentional, as you attempt to rile him up with the use of his title. 

The throaty groan that leaves him is addictive.

"What else do you like to be called?" 

"Depends on what you want to call me really, but I like... sir." 

"I like it too, will have to remember that for the future, and just torture you with sergeant in the meantime." You can't help but giggle as you flirt. 

"Oh don't worry, am keeping score." He growls playfully. "Wait til I get ma hands on you, bonnie." 

"You're keeping score?" You gasp, a heady mix of fear and arousal coursing through you almost urges you to be even more of a teasing brat.

"Aye, spanking arm at the ready." 

"My pouting lips are ready." 

"Won't be the only thing you use them lips for."

Fuck fuck fuck. Not that you hadn't thought about it already, hadn't already let your mind drift to what his cock might look like—whether it matches the size of the man—now you're definitely thinking about it. Fixated on it, craving it. 

Some cards are best kept close to your chest so early on, so you change tack and go a different direction with his flirtation. "Yeah, with you in the room, I'd probably be smiling a whole lot." 

The two of you continue to chat, you asking what you can about his work as he asks about yours, and you fill him in on the boring world you live in, which seems especially boring in comparison to taking down cartels and traveling the world.

The conversation never stops being easy, the flirtation and innuendo always right there at the tip of your tongues as you tease each other relentlessly—giving as good as you get. All night, you're practically grinding against your duvet as you get lost in Johnny's dulcet tones, and you find yourself just letting him speak for the sake of getting to hear more of his voice.

As Johnny is about to ask you more about your background, you're overcome with a harsh yawn that you desperately try to stifle. Your eyes have been shut for the last hour at least, but with the command Johnny has over your nervous system right now, it's been easy to stay awake. 

"Tired, bonnie?" He asks, voice laced with sweet concern.

"Yeah..." Your voice falls quiet, as the thought of ending the call makes your throat constrict. "But I don't wanna stop talking." 

"Me either, but av got bad news." 

You know what's coming, and you know it isn't remotely anywhere near the end of the world, despite what your heart is telling you right now. "Go on." 

"I have to go." Even he sounds sad about such an outcome. 

"It's not even that late?" The clock reads 2 am. 

"Gotta get a wee bit of sleep before I hit the gym, and then get off ta work. Don't you have work too?" 

"Work from home tomorrow, so it's not too bad. Not fair though, I wanna keep talking." You admit quietly. It's too much too soon, but you're overwhelmed, the tide of your emotions crashing over the edges.

"Tell yer what. Next time we call, we can try leaving it on while we sleep."

Your heart flips, as you almost whimper at how cute the gesture is. "Are you trying to make me fall in love with you?"

"Obviously." There's that gorgeous laugh again. "Is it working?" 

"Just a little, but that might be the lack of sleep talking, I might be going slightly insane." 

Johnny sighs, and it's clear he's battling to keep a handle on his self-control. "Rest, bonnie, I won't be able to work knowing you're not sleepin'" 

You sigh too, accepting your fate. "Okay, just for you." 

"Just want what's best for you, you need your sleep."  

Your head spins at how utterly sincere he sounds—the care in his voice after such a short amount of time serves to drive you even deeper into this infatuation. "Already?" 

"Can't turn it off, am just protective by nature, bonnie. If you were my girl, you'd have a bedtime." 

And that makes your cunt clench and your heart soar. "Johnny..." You whine.

"Yeah?" 

You hesitate to say what you want to say next, but everything within you is calling out for him, desperate to be in his arms. "Don't make me wait too long to meet you, please." 

His laughter is sweet, conveying a sense of understanding more than anything. "I'll try ma best, supposed to be off on Friday." 

"5 whole days."

"Sure you don't wanna wait a bit longer?" 

You shake your head, mumbling a sound to convey your feelings. "Feels right, don't know how to describe it... do you feel it too?" 

Johnny takes a deep breath, his voice shaking slightly as he speaks. "I do, lass." 

"Good." You couldn't even attempt to fight the idiotic grin on your face, or how warm you feel inside and out. "I'll get some sleep, talk soon." 

"Goodnight, bonnie. Sweet dreams."  

You wait for Johnny to end the call, not wanting to push the button yourself and have his presence fade away. When your screen dims, you resist the urge to text him more, opting instead to put your phone on charge and roll over to Barnaby—wishing it was Johnny instead. 

#john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #call of duty fanfiction #call of duty x reader #call of duty fanfic #soap mw2 #this is a crime against literature i swear #also a crime against graphic design #crimes all round??? #anyway posting and pretending this doesnt exist so the self loathing goes away xox #aaaaaaaaaaah #collars and cages

[steddieas-shegoes]

Chapter 3

of  this post /  Chapter 2 / read it all on ao3 Here

Steve was warm.

He was also naked in a bath that belonged to Eddie.

It was a nice bath, much larger than the one he and Robin rarely used, and full of bubbles that smelled like peppermint.

Eddie told him it would help keep him awake, but also help him stay relaxed.

He was right.

He was also currently making Steve a grilled cheese (his favorite) and letting him listen to music through his phone speaker (his relaxing playlist that he used for his paperwork hours at home). He’d made sure the bath was hot, but not scalding the way Steve usually had it. He didn’t leave the room until Steve was laying in the bath, head resting against the towel Eddie set up along the edge, eyes closed to keep his senses dulled. According to Eddie, that was really important.

He’d lit a few candles and kept them on the side of the sink, then shut off the light before leaving to make Steve’s sandwich.

Steve was still completely unable to speak.

That was more than a little unnerving.

He knew what he needed and wanted to say, but nothing came out.

But he trusted Eddie for some reason. He’d unpack that later.

Maybe.

Probably not.

For a guidance counselor, he wasn’t that great at giving himself guidance. Or counseling.

“Stevie?”

“Hm?”

Hey! Progress! He made a noise!

“Got your sandwich,” Eddie held up the plate and smiled at Steve, who had opened his eyes, but hadn’t bothered to lift his head from where it rested against the back of the tub. He was too comfy. “You wanna dry your hands so you can eat?”

He wanted to eat, but he certainly didn’t want to move. His hands were so warm in the water. If he took them out of the bath they’d be cold and probably pruned, which was not attractive.

Not that it mattered if he was attractive, but he didn’t want Eddie to have anything else to add to the list he’d titled ‘Why Steve Harrington Is Not A Catch.’

“Sunshine, you have to eat something.”

Steve sighed. He blinked at Eddie in hopes that he would understand what he was trying to say.

Eddie sat down on the floor next to the tub and lifted the sandwich up to Steve’s mouth.

That wasn’t what Steve was trying to say, but he couldn’t really argue since he was still apparently nonverbal.

Eddie had briefly explained that that happened a lot during subspace, and sometimes it happened during a drop.

Steve took a bite of the sandwich and groaned.

It was good.

Or maybe he was just really hungry.

Either way, he leaned in to take another bite before he’d even finished chewing the first. He didn’t even care if it was disgusting or rude, he just needed to eat.

“Good boy. But don’t eat too fast, sunshine. Don’t want you to feel sick.”

“Mhm.”

Steve relaxed again, letting Eddie hold the sandwich up to his mouth to take a bite every minute or so.

It was nice. Too nice.

Steve had never been taken care of like this. Even when he was with Nancy, she would usually leave him alone when he was sick or tired, not wanting to expend the energy it takes to get him through an illness or exhaustion.

He was a little needy sometimes. He covered it up well after Nancy, not wanting anyone, not even Robin, to know he sometimes needed someone to care for him.

He hadn’t even noticed he drifted off again until Eddie was running his fingers through his barely wet hair.

“C’mon sunshine. Water’s getting too cold. Gotta get you in bed.”

And then he was in what he assumed was Eddie’s bed in what he assumed were Eddie’s clothes in what he assumed was big trouble.

He let himself feel safe.

He hadn’t felt safe in a long time.

– – – – – – – – – –

When he woke up, he was alone.

He was used to being alone.

In fact, a part of his brain told himself he would have been more worried if he wasn’t alone.

But he wasn’t in his bed, which meant at some point very recently he wasn’t alone.

And then it all came rushing back to him.

This was Eddie’s bed. Eddie, the tattoo artist he barely knew, who helped him through whatever the fuck he went through yesterday.

He turned onto his side and nearly fell out of bed when he saw that he wasn’t alone. Eddie was asleep, body curled up facing Steve, but keeping some distance between them. His breathing was slow and quiet, and his body looked relaxed despite the uncomfortable looking position he was in.

Steve watched as Eddie slept, thinking through the events of the night before.

Eddie had known what to do, what he needed, and how to make sure he got it even when he couldn’t speak. He hadn’t taken advantage of him, even though it would have been easy to do with Steve so out of it.

Eddie let out a snore and Steve couldn’t help the endeared smile that crossed his face.

Nope, you stop that right the fuck now, Steven Harrington.

He was about to slap himself in the face to prevent himself from actually having feelings when Eddie’s eyes shot open.

They stared at each other for a moment, and then Eddie smiled, and Steve was definitely in trouble.

“Hey, sunshine.”

“Um. Hi.”

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah. I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I can get dressed.”

Steve started to sit up, but Eddie reached his hand out to stop him.

“No rush. Seriously, take your time. I don’t have to be at the shop until 12 today.”

Which reminded Steve that it was Sunday, he had nowhere to be, and he was currently very cozy. Maybe he could stay for a little while. Just until he was more awake.

“I don’t wanna take up more of your time. You’ve done enough I think.”

“It’s fine, Steve.” Steve felt himself make a face at the name and Eddie’s brows furrowed. “What?”

“I dunno. Just used to you saying Stevie or Sunshine.”

Eddie smirked at him and Steve felt his stomach drop. Where it dropped to, he didn’t know, and he didn’t think he would ever find it again with the way he felt completely hollowed out.

“It’s just as much for me as it is for you, Stevie. That was pretty intense last night.”

His tone was serious, but he kept a soft smile on his face, probably to make sure Steve didn’t run away without talking about some of it.

“Yeah. I’m sorry about everything. I really wouldn’t have even gotten a tattoo if I thought that would happen.”

“Nothing to apologize for. You can’t control it. How would you have known it would happen?” Eddie raised one brow as if to dare Steve to argue. “Exactly. You didn’t know. I’m glad I was around to help. Hate to think what could’ve happened if it was someone else.”

And, yeah, Steve was worried about that now too. Eddie seemed to know a lot about this, so Steve took this opportunity to ask some questions. He certainly couldn’t ask Robin.

It was a long conversation, and Eddie never talked to him like he was stupid. He was patient and kind, and was honest if he didn’t know the answer to something. He occasionally reached out to brush some of Steve’s hair out of his face or squeeze his hand if he seemed like he couldn’t figure out how to phrase something, bringing him back to the present and keeping his thoughts in order.

They went over how he could prepare for it next time, but Steve said he probably wouldn’t be getting another tattoo anytime soon.

Eddie said he would prefer that he come to him if he did or at least have someone who could help him through it if he went somewhere else.

“So, before the drop…” Steve stopped. He didn’t know what he wanted to say. Well, he did, but he didn’t know if actually wanted to say it out loud.

Eddie looked at him expectantly, an encouraging smile pointed at Steve in a way he couldn’t resist.

“Before the drop. I really felt…good. Like I was untouchable and nothing bad could happen. Is that always like that? The subspace thing?”

“I’ve never experienced subspace. I mean, I’ve tried a couple times when I first started messing around with people, but it just didn’t happen for me. But I’ve been with plenty of subs when they’re floating and they describe it like that, yeah. Like you can feel everything and nothing at once, but everything is good. It’s a high you can’t even get from drugs. Which is why the crash from it can be so fucking awful.”

It still didn’t make sense how Steve got to this point, how he had ever reached that high from needles pressing into his skin and Eddie being nice to him, and how he’d fallen so far so fast.

But what Eddie said was exactly how he’d felt the night before. He wasn’t really able to put it into words like Eddie had.

“So will I always drop if I end up there again?”

“Not if you’re with the right person and you can figure out limits and what causes it for you. Everyone is different. For you, it seems like pain might do it, but you would have to be in the right mindset to get there no matter what.”

“I wasn’t really in any type of mindset last night.”

“Maybe it didn’t seem like it. But it’s hard to really know when you weren’t expecting it.”

Steve bit his lip. How could he have not known? How did he make it to 27 years old not having a clue?

“Hey.” Eddie’s thumb rubbed against his bottom lip, pulling it away from his teeth. “You didn’t know. It’s normal for a lot of people to never know. If you weren’t into the scene before, how would you know? But now you do. And now you just have to be careful in the future. I don’t want anyone to hurt you.”

Steve was gonna die right here in Eddie’s bed. Who the fuck just says shit like that? His heart skipped a beat like in those stupid romance books Nancy used to read.

How dumb.

“Is pouting your natural state?”

Steve pouted harder, bottom lip pushing out as far as he possibly could just to be ridiculous.

It was worth being and feeling ridiculous to hear Eddie’s laugh.

“Listen, I know I just threw a lot at you and you may have more questions. You’ve got my number on that tattoo care sheet, so make sure you call me or text me if you have any questions, okay? And if you want another tattoo and don’t feel comfortable going somewhere else, I’m happy to do it all over again, hopefully without the drop this time.”

“What if I wanted to float again? Without the tattoo.”

Steve should shut his mouth. He really should shut his fucking mouth.

Eddie searched his face, much like he did the night before. What the hell was he looking for?

He glanced behind Steve for a moment and then back at him.

“I’ve gotta get up and get ready. But we have to have a really big talk before I can agree to that.” Steve felt his own face fall, but Eddie quickly continued. “Not because I don’t want to, sunshine. I think you’re at the part of the post-high feeling where you wanna reach it again right away. That can be really bad for you and for me, okay? But I’m done at 7 tonight. You busy?”

Steve was never busy on the weekends unless Robin was dragging him to a club and he’d be damned if he tried to go to a club instead of being with Eddie.

Which is another thing he probably should start unpacking very soon.

“No. I have work at 7:30 in the morning though.”

“Ah, right. Guidance counselor.” Eddie smirked. “Nothing’s gonna happen tonight except talking. You could also…bring stuff to spend the night here if you want.”

Eddie seemed incredibly nervous to even suggest it, and maybe if it was anyone else, Steve would’ve laughed and ran out the door, never to look back at the batshit insane person trying to have him spend the night within 24 hours of knowing him.

But Steve thought about how well he slept in Eddie’s bed with Eddie last night, and he thought about how his bed was pretty lonely, and how maybe waking up here again would make him feel better about having to exist on Monday.

“Yeah. I could do that.”

Eddie’s answering smile was nothing short of blinding.

“Great! Okay. Let’s head on back to the shop so you can get your car. Is Robin home?”

“Probably. She’s probably waiting to see my name on the news with the headline “Dead Body of Idiot Man Trying To Get First Tattoo Found” and a picture of me from the yearbook.”

Eddie let out a loud laugh.

It was nice.

Usually, Steve got annoyed when people laughed so loudly, but Eddie’s was nice.

Eddie was nice.

“So. 7?”

“Yeah, sunshine.”

— — — — — — — — — —

Eddie didn’t let Steve stray far while they got ready to leave.

Steve would never admit how much he loved it.

During the drive back to the shop, Eddie played music Steve had never heard, and probably never would have if not for him. He didn’t exactly like it, but he didn’t mind it, especially when he watched Eddie sing along with a passion Steve hadn’t really ever felt.

They didn’t need to talk and Steve didn’t feel pressured to try.

He hadn’t felt so comfortable around someone since he first met Robin, and he was holding onto the panic he knew was coming when he was alone.

He was still feeling tired. His emotions had been on a hell of a journey over the last 18 hours, and Eddie had already warned him he probably would be feeling the effects of it all for another day or so.

But Eddie also explained that without the drop, it’s worth it.

He wanted to know what that felt like.

And he wanted to know what it felt like with Eddie.

So when they arrived at the shop and said goodbye, Eddie hugged him tightly, holding him against his chest. Steve wasn’t much shorter than him, but he managed to fold himself into him without being uncomfortable, resting his face against his collarbone and breathing in the scent he was already addicted to.

They separated, but neither seemed ready or willing to.

Did Eddie feel this pull the way Steve did? Was Steve just attaching himself to someone who helped him through his most vulnerable time?

As he walked away, he looked over his shoulder to find Eddie staring after him, keeping eyes on him as he walked to his car. He was frowning.

Maybe he did feel as much as Steve. 

Chapter 4

TAG LIST:  @invisibleflame812 @inmoonywetrust @captain-daryn @carlyv @lillemilly @spectrum-spectre @raisedbylibrarians @estrellami-1 @gregre369 @mightbeasleep @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @bornonthesavage @loguine-linguine

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #Part 3 #grumpy sunshine trope #tattoo artist eddie munson #dom eddie munson #sub steve harrington #top eddie munson #bottom steve harrington #accidental subspace Steve Harrington #ao3fic #myfic

[genshinluvr]

The Unexpected

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!reader

Summary: You never really think much about how long you'll be on Teyvat. You're not from the men's universe and everyone knows that. It's not possible for you to be gifted a vision from Celestia, or at least that's what you and the men assumed. Who knew that getting kidnapped overnight and disappearing without a trace ends up with you having a vision.

Notes: Honestly, I have no idea what to call the fanfic, so I just called it what it is. This fic focuses more on the what-if the reader gets a vision despite not being from the Genshin men's universe. I will not be posting a 5k+ fic next week since I'm starting something else next week. I will be posting a mini fic for the Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!reader series next week. Hopefully, once the school year is done and it's summer, I will have more ideas and not deal with writer's block. I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, but it's nothing major or traumatic

Word Count: 7.9k

How did it turn out like this? A few weeks ago, you and the twenty-five men were laughing and joking around with each other. Now here you are, trapped in a dungeon beneath the tunnel somewhere you’re not sure of. Your head is hurting, and your limbs feel numb. You’re tired, and you want to go home. You want to get out of this place, but you can’t because there’s no easy way for you to escape. You press your back against the concrete walls before sliding down, sitting on the ground, and tilting your head back.

You close your eyes and gulp. “Please, let me out. I’m begging,” you whisper.

A few weeks ago…

You watch the men spar on the second island in the abode. In the first round, they weren’t allowed to use their visions. It was hand-to-hand combat for the first round. Then in the second round, they were able to use their weapons because it was more focused on weapons. 

Now, it’s the third round, and everyone is using their vision. While it’s everyone that is sparring with each other, you’re sitting off to the side because, well, you don’t possess a weapon or vision to join them in their little sparring competition. But you weren’t the only person that’s sitting on the sidelines.

You turn to look at Baizhu. “Are you sure you wanted to keep me company? You usually join the sparring competition with the others,” you said, hugging your legs to your chest.

Baizhu smiles and nods. “Of course, I wanted to keep you company. It’s not fair for you to sit on the sidelines while everyone is competing with each other,” says Baizhu.

“It’s also because Doctor Baizhu’s health has been depleting,” Changsheng interjects, rising from Baizhu’s shoulders. “His patient the day before took a toll on him, and now he’s… recuperating.” 

Your eyes widen, and you look at Baizhu worriedly. “Baizhu, you told me you weren’t going to do that anymore,” you whisper, frowning at the green-haired man beside you. “I understand you’re trying to get a better understanding of your patient’s illness, but you’re putting your health and life at risk.” You frowned. 

“Hey!” Aether hollers from afar.

You and Baizhu turn to look at the field where the others are standing. They’re all lined up beside each other, their weapons at their sides while staring at you and Baizhu. Oh, shit. Did you miss out on something while talking to Baizhu and Changsheng? You and Baizhu get up from your seats and walk over to where the men are standing.

You stop in front of the large group with Baizhu by your side. “Did something happen?” You ask, looking at Aether worriedly.

Itto nods with a pout on his face. “Yeah! You weren’t paying attention to us while we were sparring with each other!” Itto whines, stomping his foot on the ground while faking a sniffle. 

Itto walks toward you and tackles you into a hug, smushing your face against his sweaty chest while he continues to lament over the lack of your attention. You groan with disgust when you feel your cheeks pressed up against Itto’s sweaty chest. You gently push him away and wipe your cheek with the collar of your shirt.

Diluc looks at you curiously while he crosses his arms over his bare chest. “[Y/N], the men and I were having a discussion, and we wanted to ask you something,” says Diluc, brushing his bangs away from his sweaty forehead.

You look at Diluc quizzically. “Wait, you guys were having a group discussion? I didn’t see you guys huddle in a circle and have a chat with each other,” you say, propping your hands on your hip.

Kaeya chuckles, shaking his head. “That is because you were distracted by talking with Baizhu over to the side,” Kaeya replies, giving you a look while smirking at you.

You clear your throat before diverting the conversation. “Anyway! What is the question you wanted to ask me?” 

“What elements do you like the most? Hydro? Pyro? Geo? Electro? Dendro? Anemo? Or Cryo?” asks Heizou, pointing at each little group.

You look at the men in front of you, finally realizing they’re lined up by elements, and each element has a respective “leader” of the group. Then there’s Kaeya and Cyno, standing there by themselves with no one behind them. Then there’s Dainsleif and the four Harbingers, standing off to the side.

“Do you guys not have…” you trail off. “You know what? Never mind! I think that will be the conversation for next time, right?”

Pantalone smiles at you and nods. “That is correct, little butterfly. We won’t be revealing anything yet until the future,” Pantalone says cryptically. 

Your gaze slowly wanders over to Dottore, who’s staring at you contently. When the two of you make eye contact (it’s a little bit hard to tell because of his mask), the corners of Dottore’s lips curve up while he tilts his head to the side. You pucker your lips and point at Dottore, opening your mouth to say something before closing your mouth.

Dottore raises his eyebrows at you beneath his mask. “Oh? Did you want to say something?” Dottore asks, crossing his hands behind his back.

“I could’ve sworn you had a vision. Either it’s Cryo, or it’s Hydro….” you trial off, tapping your chin with your index finger.

Capitano chuckles and mutters something under his breath. “That’s something for you to interpret. Later, we will reveal our visions, or what we possess,” Capitano interjects.

You sigh before turning to look at the others, who have been patiently waiting for you to answer Heizou’s pressing question. What was the question again? Ah! Right. Which element do you prefer out of the seven? Or would it be eight since Dainsleif doesn’t have a vision, and his powers look really pretty but also intimidating at the same time? 

“Elements that I prefer, huh?” You murmur, gradually spacing off.

Xiao sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Are we really going to make [Y/N] choose between the seven elements?” Xiao asks.

Venti giggles. “Well, they don’t have to answer the question! Most of us are curious to see what they would choose,” Venti says, shrugging his shoulders with a smile.

Truth be told, you don’t really have a favorite element out of the seven (eight?) elements. You find the elements useful in their own ways, even if they’re paired with another element. That, and you don’t want the men to start bickering with each other the minute you choose a specific element that isn’t theirs. 

You tuck your hands into your shorts pockets and shrug. “I don’t have a favorite element,” you reply. “They’re all useful in many ways, and I don’t want to choose between the seven.”

“I have a better question! If you were to be blessed with a vision, what would it be and why?” Childe asks, looking at you curiously and eagerly.

You press your lips into a thin line. If you were to receive a vision, what would it be and why? That’s a good question. What vision would you get? Even if you were to choose what vision you wanted, you know it’s not up to you to choose. It’s up to Celesita to choose. You remembered how Noelle wanted an anemo vision, but instead, she was given a geo vision and was incredibly disappointed about it. 

You shrug for the umpteenth time today. “I don’t know! Even if I have a specific vision in mind, it’s not up to me to make that decision, is it not?” You ask.

Zhongli nods. “That is correct. The Archons aren’t the ones that give out visions. It is Celestia that gives out visions to those who are deemed worthy in their eyes,” Zhongli replies. 

You bite the inside of your cheek, nodding. So, it is confirmed. Even though you know this information already, you’re curious to see how many people there are that got the type of visions they didn’t want. Noelle didn’t want the kind of vision she was gifted by Celestia, Ningguang tried to sell hers, and Keqing tried to destroy her vision. 

“Hypothetically, if you could choose your vision, what would it be?” Albedo asks, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You shake your head. “I have no preference in what vision I want to receive from Celestia. I believe all elements are useful and a gift regardless. But the issue is I’m not from Teyvat. Therefore, it’s not possible for me to receive a vision.” 

Thoma points at Aether with his thumb. “Neither are Aether and Lumine, but they’re able to wield the seven elements,” Thoma comments.

You make a so-so gesture. “While Lumine and Aether are able to wield the seven elements, they do not possess a vision like all of you. Plus, they’re from your universe. I’m not remotely from your universe. I’m an outsider that sees everything that went down in Teyvat,” you reply, visibly cringing. 

Dear, Archons. When you said that out loud, it sort of made you think twice about saying it. You have been in Teyvat for over a year now. Yet, you haven’t run into anyone that is associated with Celestia. Well, unless you count the Archons, but most of them have severed their ties with Celestia. 

Wouldn’t your presence alone and knowledge about the entirety of Teyvat make you a suspicious person? You’re surprised to see that no one closely associated with Celestia has tried to reach out to you yet. Should you be on edge? 

Dainsleif raises his eyebrows at you. “What’s with that look on your face?” asks Dainsleif.

You give Dainsleif a fake smile. “Oh, nothing! I’m just wondering if I would even be worthy of a vision if I were to be from Teyvat,” you mutter, rubbing the back of your neck with a sheepish smile.

“You’re worthy of everything. Vision or not, you will always be worthy in our eyes,” Ayato says, giving you a closed-eye smile.

Scaramouche snorts. “That sounds like something a parent would say to their child—” Scaramouche lets out a grunt when Aether nudges him in the stomach with a small glare.

Kazuha sighs and walks toward you, brushing the stray hair away from your face and tucking them behind your ears. “You never really answered our question about what vision you think you would get if you were to be from our world,” says Kazuha, slowly pulling his hand away from your face and crossing his arms over his chest.

“I think any element is fine with me, really. I don’t have a specific vision I want to get. I think it’d be cool if I could wield all of the elements like Aether and Lumine despite being from another universe,” you shrug.

Cyno chuckles and shakes his head. “I don’t think [Y/N] is going to be picking what kind of vision they want if we continue to ask them about it. Either they don’t have a preference, or they do have an element in mind but are dodging the question to save our feelings,” Cyno comments.

You open your mouth to reply, but Tighnari pats your head and gives you a smile. “That’s enough questioning [Y/N] for today. Besides, what does it mean if [Y/N] were to get a vision?” Tighnari asks, turning to look at the men around you.

Kaveh raises his eyebrows. “Uh, care to rephrase that?” asks Kaveh, propping his hands on his hips.

Al Haitham rolls his eyes. “I’m pretty sure Tighnari is wondering if [Y/N], someone who doesn’t belong in our universe, were to get a vision, would it mean that [Y/N] is now part of our universe? If so, what would happen to their existence in their world?” Al Haitham interjects. 

Yeah, what would happen if you were to get a vision or become part of the men’s world? Would your existence in your universe be erased, or would you turn into a fictional character in your world? Many questions are running through your mind, and it’s starting to make you feel dizzy and get a headache. 

Pierro sighs. “We can’t question something we don’t have the answers to. Now, we either finish the sparring session, or we finish it here for today,” says Pierro.

Gorou runs his hands through his hair and wipes the sweat off his forehead. “Let’s finish it here for today.” 

Since that day, you can’t help but feel strange. It’s almost like something or someone is constantly looming over your shoulders, watching your every move. Everything was normal, but at the same time, it didn’t feel as normal as it should be. If that makes sense. You’re sprawled out on the grass in Mondstadt, lying in the tree’s shade. The cool breeze almost lulls you to sleep when a twig snapping from a distance wakes you up.

You sit up and rub your eye, looking at your surroundings. You didn’t see anyone or anything that stepped on a twig. Maybe it was an animal that stepped on the twig, causing it to snap while you were falling asleep under the tree’s shade in Mondstadt. You did notice that there weren’t any signs of life around you— animals, you mean. No signs of birds, squirrels, and boars.

You get up from the ground and dust the dirt and grass off your clothes. The teapot is a few feet from where you’re sitting, and you don’t want to walk toward it. Not when you feel like there are eyes staring at the back of your head, burning holes into your skull if it could. You grab an apple, gripping it hard. There’s no weapon you can use, so you might as well use an apple as self-defense if anything happens.

You clear your throat. “Xiao?” You call out.

Xiao appears before you, his arms over his chest. “You called?” Xiao raises his eyebrows at you.

A wave of relief washes over you. You wrap your arms around his and lean against him while he wraps his arms around your waist. “Can you escort me back to the abode? I feel like someone’s watching me, and I don’t feel safe,” you whisper into his ears.

Xiao tightens his grip around your waist and nods. “Of course,” Xiao murmurs.

You and Xiao walk to the Serenitea Pot, watching your surroundings while trying not to make it obvious. You tighten your grip around Xiao’s arm the closer you two are approaching the floating teapot. The feeling of someone staring holes into the back of your head remains as you and Xiao enter the teapot.

Once your and Xiao step into the teapot, you sigh in relief and relax in his arms. Xiao continues to have an iron grip around your waist while walking to the estate. You feel safe in the abode, knowing there are twenty-five men that are ready to protect you no matter what. No one can get to you, no matter who or what they are. Xiao closes the door to the estate and locks the door, one arm remaining around your waist.

“Oh! So that’s where you went, Xiao!” Itto’s voice booms throughout the estate, startling you and Xiao.

Xiao reluctantly releases you from his grip, ignoring Itto’s comment. You give Xiao a smile and give him a kiss on the cheek as a thank you. Xiao looks away, his eyes focusing on the wooden floor while his cheeks slowly turn pink. 

“You disappeared so suddenly! I was starting to worry that Itto did something to offend you,” Heizou comments, getting off the couch.

Aether smiles at you and bounces over to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders while resting his chin on your head. “How was Mondstadt? You said you were going to relax under the tree in Mondstadt, and you were gone for about half an hour,” says Aether, twirling your hair around his index finger.

Venti’s eyes light up. “Oh! Were you relaxing in Windrise? The weather is nice today! I heard through the grapevines that the breeze is nice today,” Venti says, smiling widely while rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.

You nod in agreement. “The weather and breeze felt nice in Mondstadt today! Although my time in Mondstadt was cut short, unfortunately,” you say, leaning against Aether.

“Oh? And how was your time in Mondstadt cut short?” asks Kaeya, sitting on the armrest while gazing at you curiously.

That’s your cue to tell the men what happened in Mondstadt. You were having a lovely day in Mondstadt, relaxing in the shade underneath a tree. You nearly dozed off to sleep when the peaceful, quiet air was rudely interrupted by the sound of twigs snapping. At first, you wanted to assume that it was probably a boar or a squirrel that stepped on the twig.

To your dismay, there weren’t any animals around you to confirm that the twig snapping was from an animal stepping on it while scurrying around. You went on about how you wanted to walk to the Serenitea pot after your alone time was interrupted. Still, the feeling of something or someone staring holes into the back of your head made you rethink your decision. You didn’t want to risk anything, so you called for Xiao to help you, and thus the Adeptus shows up almost immediately when you call out his name.

“Oh, so that’s why Xiao disappeared so suddenly!” Thoma murmurs, stroking his chin.

Zhongli places his hand on your shoulder and gives them a squeeze. “You did the right thing of calling out to Xiao when you knew something felt off. We’re glad that both you and Xiao were able to return to the abode without any issues,” says Zhongli.

“Yeah, I am too. The only thing that bothers me is that I’m not sure if it’s something or someone that’s watching my every move. It’s unsettling not knowing who or what it is,” you shudder.

Dainsleif approaches you and tucks your hair behind your ears. “You should get some rest in your room,” Dainsleif murmurs.

You nod and give them a small smile before walking upstairs to your room. “Wake me up when dinner’s ready! I’m not sure how long I’ll be asleep,” you announce from over your shoulders.

“Don’t worry, we will!” Gorou replies as you slowly make your way up the stairs.

The minute you walk into your room, you shut the door behind you, plop on your bed, and close your eyes. Whatever was watching your every move, you really hoped that it was a curious hilichurl or a mitachurl because you were not ready to face the person or thing that was watching you. You soon fall into a dreamless sleep, tossing and turning in your bed.

Meanwhile, downstairs, the men are gathered in the living room, trying to figure out the strange feeling you had while you were in Mondstadt before calling out for Xiao. This was the first time you mentioned feeling eyes staring at the back of your head while you were alone in Mondstadt.

Diluc looks at the Adeptus, his arms over his chest. “When you arrived at Mondstadt after [Y/N] called your name, did you see anything out of the ordinary?” Diluc asks, raising his eyebrows at the Yaksha.

Xiao shakes his head in response. Xiao was focused on you and only you. He didn’t have time to closely survey his and your surrounding. The minute you told Xiao that you wanted him to escort you back to the abode, Xiao was set on taking you back to the estate without a second thought. 

Childe hums and taps on his chin. “Xiao wasn’t gone for a long time. It was, perhaps, less than five minutes.” Childe interjects.

“That means he most likely didn’t see the person or thing that was staring at [Y/N],” Tighnari sighs, his ears flattening on his head with dismay.

Al Haitham closes his book and gets up from his seat. “We’ll need to keep track of [Y/N]’s whereabouts when they leave the abode alone. We can’t risk anything happening to them if they were to leave by themselves,” Al Haitham says.

Kaveh rolls his eyes and shoots a glare in Al Haitham’s direction. “Wow, Al Haitham! Where did you get that idea from!? Oh, yeah! Me!” Kaveh hisses, propping his hands on his hips with a huff of breath.

Al Haitham’s about to interject when the sound of your bedroom door opening interrupts him. You walk down the stairs, eyes bleary from your short nap. Your nap lasted less than an hour, and you feel like you were run over by a sumpter beast after getting smacked in the face by a mitachurl.

“Why are you awake so early? We thought you were going to take a nap,” Ayato murmurs, watching you collapse on the small sofa while rubbing your eyes.

You grumble before resting the back of your head on the armrest. “I was, but I kept tossing and turning in my sleep,” you reply.

Gorou perks up and looks at you shyly. “Do you want someone to cuddle with? If so, I volunteer to snuggle with you while you take a nap!” Gorou offers, raising his hand.

You hum and reach forward, gesturing for Gorou to come closer. Gorou smiles widely and sprints over in your direction. You pull Gorou down on the sofa next to you and latch yourself onto his body, snaking your arms around his waist and snuggling up against the Inazuman man. Gorou wraps both his arms around you, kissing the side of your head while ignoring the muttering from the men.

You peek at the men, your right cheek smushed against Gorou’s chest. “Anyway, what were you guys talking about before I came downstairs?” You ask.

“In Mondstadt, did you happen to see the person or thing that was making you feel uncomfortable?” Cyno asks, sitting on the ottoman before you and Gorou.

You press your lips into a thin line and shake your head. “Sadly, I didn’t see the person or thing that was staring at the back of my head. I was tempted to search for the person or creature that was staring at me, but in all honesty, I was scared to do it. Hence, why I called out to Xiao,” you reply, gesturing toward Xiao’s direction. 

Albedo hums, tossing his sketchpad on the coffee table. “That’s unfortunate but understandable. You had a bad feeling, and the first thing you did was call Xiao because out of all of us, Xiao will be by your side in a heartbeat when you call his name,” Albedo murmurs.

Kazuha looks at the clock on the wall. It’s about two hours before dinner, and yet you’re still awake, cuddling Gorou on the sofa. Kazuha crosses his arms over his chest and smiles at you. “Since you’re awake, do you want to have dinner now?” Kazuha asks.

You hum to yourself before sitting up, trying to see if you’re hungry or not. Your stomach doesn’t feel full, nor does it feel empty. It’s a feeling you can’t describe— how does one explain the feeling of hunger? 

You purse your lips. “I’m not hungry, but I’m not full either…” you trail off, stroking your chin. “But I can eat! Let’s have dinner now!” You nod.

Baizhu approaches you and stands before you, helping you get up from the couch while smiling. “Sweetheart, if you don’t mind me asking, are you still having problems with sleeping? If so, I can get you melatonin, and you can take it before going to bed,” Baizhu offers.

You nod and let out an exasperated sigh. “Yes, please! I haven’t been able to sleep as much as I needed, and it’s so frustrating. I kept tossing and turning in my bed, and before I knew it, it was almost five in the morning, and Thoma was already awake!” You say, pressing your forehead against Baizhu’s chest. 

Scaramouche pops up beside you and props his arm on your shoulders. “Make sure the melatonin is strong because look at the bags under their eyes,” Scaramouche snorts, poking your undereye.

You wince and smack Scaramouche’s hand away from your face with a scowl. Baizhu chuckles and shakes his head before walking off. You turn to look at Scaramouche, who’s smirking down at you. You stick your tongue out at him before walking off, leaving a cackling Scaramouche behind. 

Not long later, you and the men are gathered around the dining table, eating and chatting with each other. Dinner is lively, and everyone is cracking jokes, telling stories, and enjoying each other’s company. Who knew that dinner was going to be the last time the men saw you before your sudden disappearance overnight. 

You snap out of your thoughts when you hear the gated door open. The cloaked being steps into the room— would it even be stepping when they’re hovering above the ground? You stumble up from the ground and press yourself against the wall, staring at the cloaked figure warily. 

“[Y/N], we have heard so much about you since your appearance in Teyvat,” says the cloaked figure.

You gulp. “We? Who is we exactly?” You demand, clenching your hands into fists. “Where am I, and why did you bring me here?”

The cloaked figure continues to hover a few feet away from you, not responding to your question. The last thing you remembered after having dinner with the men was taking your melatonin before going to bed. Everyone afterward was a blur, and now here you are, somewhere you’re not familiar with and in the presence of the cloaked figure. 

“You may not know who you are, but we know who you are,” says the cloaked figure.

You stare at the cloaked being blankly, blinking at it. “I don’t think you need to say that since it’s blatantly obvious, and you’re kind of repeating yourself….” you trail off, squinting at the cloaked figure. 

You’re just glad that you’re not dealing with the Abyss Order, or else it would’ve been a completely different story. The cloaked figure hums before hovering in your direction, causing you to press your back against the wall and stick your leg out in front of you to keep the distance. 

“Have you ever wondered what it's like for your kind to be blessed by the Celestial Gods?” it asks, leaning down to your height while remaining hovered before you.

You weren’t sure how to respond. Yes, you’re curious, but at the same time, you don’t want to give the cloaked being the answer it wants to hear. You’re a little terrified to respond because of the short distance between the two of you.

You cross your arms over your chest and look away. “Even if I was curious, why do you want to know? I don’t even know who you are or what you are,” you reply, squeezing your eyes shut.

The cloaked being moves away from you and chuckles. Now that you think about it, the way it sounds when it laughs and speaks reminds you of when you were a child. You would talk and scream into an electric fan, making you sound robotic. That’s what it sounds like. It sounds robotic, but you know the being beneath the cloak isn’t an android because you don’t think there are any robotic beings in Teyvat. Unless there is one, you and everyone else are unaware of its existence. 

“Answer the question,” the cloaked being hisses, grabbing your face and forcing you to look at it.

You yank your head out from the being’s grasp and duck your head, eyes remaining shut. You hear something fall to the ground, which you assume is the cloak that the being was once wearing. You crack your eyes open out of curiosity, and when you look up, you nearly do a double-take.

The being standing in front of you continues to hover. Its body is pure white. It did not look human due to the eight eyes on one face and the lack of a mouth. It doesn’t even have hair on its head, but it does have long nails that resemble the talons of a hawk. The creature before you blink at you, tilting its head to the side. Seeing eight eyes focusing on you and blinking at you makes you feel disturbed and creeped out.

“You remind me of those biblically accurate angels, but only fewer eyes, and there aren’t any feathers,” you mutter to yourself. “What are you? Clearly, you’re not an angel.”

The being cackles, its mouth open, and its abnormally long tongue slithers out of its mouth. You stare at it, horrified yet morbidly intrigued. The tongue and the way the mouth opens remind you of Venmon.

“I, and many others, are what you mortals call us the Celestial Gods,” it says.

“You? Celestial Gods? I’m sorry, but I imagined beings that look…. Human,” you trailed off, swallowing the lump in your throat.

The ‘Celestial God’ gazes at you and crosses its arms over its chest. “Perhaps you need a refresher? Your dear Archons have many forms, do they not? If they can have many forms of themselves, then are Celestial Gods not allowed to have more than one form as well?” If it had eyebrows, it would be raising its eyebrows at you. 

Crap. How could you let that slip from your mind so easily? It has a point. “Well, you’re not wrong about that,” you mutter. 

“Now, answer my question, [Y/N]. Have you ever wondered if you, someone not of this universe, could be blessed by the Celestial Gods?” asks the Celestial God.

You shake your head rapidly. “No, no! I have not, actually! Being blessed by the Celestial God as someone that’s not from this universe doesn’t seem to be fair for those who are from your universe,” you say, clearing your throat. 

Meanwhile, the men are scrambling around Teyvat, searching for you. It has been days since your disappearance, and the men hit countless dead ends. You weren’t in Mondstadt, Liyue, Sumeru, or Inazuma. Heck, they even tried Dragonspine and the Chasm, but there weren’t any traces of your presence. 

“How did they disappear overnight without a trace?” Dottore growls, grabbing his hair at the roots, and yanks at it.

The men are going crazy, searching every part of Teyvat they can think of, only to come out empty-handed. You’re nowhere to be found, and citizens from all over Teyvat have never seen you step into the regions. Ningguang, Jean, the Raiden Shogun, and Nahida have never seen you in their respective regions. No one has seen you, nor have they got a clue about where you could possibly be. Countless sleepless nights and dead ends are catching up to everyone, and it’s driving them up the walls.

Pantalone lets out an exasperated sigh, running his fingers through his hair. “This is getting us nowhere. We have searched every nook and cranny for them, and there’s no trace of their presence in these regions,” Pantalone grumbles, clenching his jaws.

“It’s not possible that they could’ve gotten up in the middle of the night and left the abode without us knowing, is it?” Gorou asks nervously, his ears twitching at every little sound around him and the men.

Pierro shakes his head. “It’s not possible because the doors and windows are all locked. If they were to leave the abode alone, we would’ve known. Their shoes are still at the abode as well,” Pierro replies, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“What if they were, I don’t know, imprisoned somewhere? We’ve checked every place on Teyvayt besides other citizens’ homes and prisons,” Aether says, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Capitano lets out an amused huff, almost sounding like laughter. “It’s a possibility, but I wouldn’t guarantee it because many citizens in Teyvat we have come across said they didn’t see [Y/N]. Even those who work at night have not seen [Y/N]. That includes the authorities,” Capitano interjects.

Where are you exactly, and are you safe? That’s all they want to know is whether you’re safe or not. Their first priority is finding you and making sure you’re safe. But since there are almost zero traces of your presence (and maybe existence), there’s no way for them to know your situation.

Your body is aching, you’re tired, and you can barely stand for yourself. You collapse to the ground before the Celestial God, sweat dripping down your face while your body shakes with every breath you take. Your head is hurting, and your ears are ringing. You can taste blood in your mouth as you gulp for air, swallowing your saliva.

The Celestial God laughs, hovering toward your pitiful form, stopping before you. “Do you think you can take on a Celestial God unprepared and untrained in combat?” asks the Celestial God.

“I never said I could. You came charging at me out of nowhere,” you hissed, spitting at the ground and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

You grab the sword nearby and stab it into the cement ground, using the sword as leverage to help you off the ground. Dear Archons, your legs feel so weak. They’re trembling the longer you stand up. You just want to go home and be in the arms of your boyfriends, but instead, you’re fighting a Celestial God for your freedom. 

You can’t help but find it amusing. You didn’t expect to be put on some trial against a Celestial God for your freedom until you were thrust into it. You went to bed, safe and sound one night after dinner with the men, and then you woke up to being in the arms of a cloaked being, taken somewhere you don’t even know. It was weird, and it was sudden.

Before you could scream, thrash around in the being’s arms, and look at your surroundings to see where it was taking you, the cloaked being covers your face with its hands and knocks you out. And that is how you end up in some strange dungeon imprisonment of some sort. You’re not sure where exactly, but you know it’ll be impossible for people to find you.

“Now, are you going to release me from imprisonment, or do we have to do this that hard way?” You ask, gripping the handle of the sword so tightly that your nails are digging into the palm of your hands.

The Celestial God tilts its head to the side. “Imprisonment? You see this as imprisonment; we Celestial Gods see it as a test of worthiness,” says the Celestial God.

You scoff. “Well, that’s a stupid name. I’m not saying this to tick you off, but it really is a stupid name. You might want to reconsider the name of the test,” you say. 

The Celestial God crosses its arm over its chest. “Well, what do you think we should rename it then?” 

You let out a ‘pfft’ in response and shrug your shoulders. This is getting you nowhere, and you want to get out of this dungeon of a room and return to the abode and be in the arms of your boyfriends, not help rename some stupid trial name for Celestial Gods. Quite frankly, the thing in front of you doesn’t even look like a Celestial God. 

“Are you really a Celestial God, or are you lying to intimidate me?” You ask, raising your eyebrows at the being before you. “The way you act and the way you speak doesn’t seem like something a Celestial God would do.”

“Oh? And have you met a Celestial God to make that kind of judgment?” asks the once-cloaked being.

You purse your lips and shake your head. “I have not, but I know a Celestial God wouldn’t have a stupid name for a trial to see if I’m worthy of a vision. Listen, I’m going to cut to the chase because I want to get out of here, but I’m not worthy of a vision because I’m not from this universe. And even if I were to be from Teyvat, I wouldn’t get a vision because people with certain visions have similar backgrounds, struggles, stories, whatever you call it.” You sigh, tossing the sword to the concrete.

The Celestial God cocks its head to the side, almost reminding you of an owl. It was almost disturbing, especially with the eight eyes staring into your soul. It’s like the Celestial God is telling you to continue what you were saying before throwing the sword to the ground out of exhaustion and frustration.

“You know what? Here,” you crawl over to the sword and grab it from the ground before handing the Celestial God the sword, “why don’t you finish me off, and then we can go our separate ways!” You clap your hands.

The being before you stare at the sword in its hands and then looks at you wordlessly. You plop on the ground and point at your neck, signaling for the Celestial God to end you right then and there. You can fight back, yes, but against a Celestial God? Someone who doesn’t have a vision, who has never picked up a weapon in their entire life— well, that’s a lie, you have picked up a weapon, and the men have trained you to use various weapons. Still, either way, you can’t go up against a higher being. 

What’s the point of fighting the Celestial God? The being continues to stare at you before its body starts shaking with laughter. You stare at the being before rolling off the ground with a sigh. Fine, if it’s not willing to finish you off, you might as well do it yourself, right? You’re not actually going to do it. You’re bluffing. You just want to get out and go home. 

You squat and stare at the thing in front of you. It was still distracted. You would think the Celestial God can focus on many things at once with those eight eyes of theirs, but it’s too busy cackling at you. You count to three in your head, and once you reach the number three, you sprint toward the Celestial God and tackle it to the ground, catching it off guard. You grab the nearest rock on the ground and begin using it as a weapon instead of the one the Celestial God dropped on the floor after you (somehow) successfully tackled it to the ground. 

Before you can smash a rock over the Celestial being’s head, it blasts you off of it, sending you flying across the room. You slide on your back and quickly roll over to get on your feet. You run toward the sword on the ground, grab it and try slashing at the God. The Celestial God grabs the blade and snaps it in half, leaving you dumbfounded. 

You bring the broken sword up to your face. “Huh. Well, shit,” you mutter. You look at the Celestial God and purse your lips, watching it crush the blade into little pieces and sprinkle the pieces on the ground like sprinkles on a cupcake. 

The Celestial God looks at you, the eight eyes blinking one at a time. Dear Archons, it’s so disturbing. Without thinking, you chuck the broken sword at the Celestial God’s face before dashing out of the dungeon. You curse to yourself and smack your forehead. The damn door to the dungeon was open the entire time, and you didn’t think once to run out of that? The Celestial God is at your tail, reaching forward to grab you.

You burst through another door, looking back to see how far the being is close to getting you. That was the first mistake you made because the minute you saw how close that thing was, you didn’t check to see where you were going, and now you’re free-falling from the sky. It turns out you were in Celestia the entire time— if it weren’t so obvious since you were in the presence of the Celestial God. It technically kidnapped you, but it doesn’t matter now that you’re plunging to Teyvat. 

On Teyvat, Venti stands up and squints at the sky, shielding his eyes from the sun. “What’s that falling from the sky?” Venti asks.

Scaramouche yawns and stretches his arms. “I hope it’s a stupid Celestial God,” Scaramouche comments, crossing his arms over his chest with a smirk stretching across his face.

Heizou stares at the dot in the sky that is getting seemingly bigger. “That’s not actually a Celestial God falling, is it?” asks Heizou, refusing to take his eyes off it.

Dainsleif’s eyes widened once the falling dot got bigger and bigger. Dainsleif sprints toward the dot, opening a portal before him and jumping through it. 

“I don’t think now is the time to be showing off his powers,” Childe mutters, crossing his arms over his chest. 

The portal opens in the air, and Dainsleif jumps out from the celestial portal. He tackles the dot in the air and opens another portal before disappearing with the dot.

Kaeya props his hands on his hips. “I don’t think it’s a Celestial God that’s falling from the sky. If it were to be a Celestial God, I think Dainsleif would be sitting and watching with a bowl of popcorn in his hands,” says Kaeya.

“Why am I getting the feeling of deja vu?” Thoma mutters, stroking his chin.

A large portal opens up before the twenty-four men, and Dainsleif steps out from the portal with you in his arms. Your head is resting against Dainsleif’s chest, and you’re clutching something against your chest. Dainsleif helps you stand, keeping his arms around your waist while you slump forward.

“I hate Celestial Gods,” you whisper.

Scaramouche lets out a burst of boisterous laughter. “Welcome to the club,” Scaramouche comments.

Diluc tries to peek at your hands. “What do you have there?” asks Diluc, walking up to you and Dainsleif.

Dainslief sighs and tilts his head forward. “I believe the questions that should be asked is whether [Y/N] is okay or not and how they end up in this situation,” Dainsleif comments, frowning at the redhead. 

You wave one hand around while clutching the object with the other. “I’m fine, but after coming face-to-face with the Celestial God, I don’t think I’ll ever recover,” you mutter, shuddering. “Anyway, to answer the other part of Dainsleif’s curiosity, I was in a dungeon on Celestia! Crazy, right? I was put through some trial to see if I was worthy of a vision, and yeah.” You nod, tapping your fingers on the object in your hand.

The twenty-five men’s eyes fall on your hand. You clear your throat and hold up the object for everyone to see.

“I didn’t think it was possible, but apparently, it is because I now officially have a vision!” You squeak, giving them an uncertain smile. 

“How is that possible?” Al Haitham mutters, grabbing your vision from your hands and inspecting it closely.

Kaveh scoffs and narrows his eyes at Al Haitham. “What? Did you think [Y/N] wasn’t worthy of having a vision, Al Haitham?” Kaveh demands.

Al Haitham slowly looks up from the vision and stares at Kaveh blankly. Kaveh props his hands on his hips, waiting for the Scribe to answer him. Al Haitham rolls his eyes and hands the vision back to you. You stare at the vision in your hands, unsure of what else to say. What were you supposed to do, really? Thank Celestia for granting you a vision? You’re not from any of the seven regions in Teyvat, and yet here you are with your very own vision that is in the shape of something you have never seen before. It’s evident that people from different parts of Teyvat have a specific shape of vision for the respective regions they’re from (or from the area when and where they received it), but yours is different.

“What even is that shape?” Itto asks, grabbing the vision from your hands to inspect it.

You shrug and lean against Dainsleif, closing your eyes. “Don’t ask me. I don’t know the answers, unfortunately. But I’m surprised that none of you have said anything about the element of the vision,” you reply, cracking one eye open.

“I think they could’ve given you the same element as mine. Mine is cooler than whatever they gave you,” you hear one man huff.

You hear a strained cough. “Excuse me? What do you mean your element is cooler than mine?”

“Let’s be honest here. That element is useless, and I don’t think it’ll be useful to [Y/N].” 

“Hey! Don’t be mean! Every element is useful! There are no useless elements out there!” You see one of the men nudge the other with a glare.

You press your lips into a thin line before grabbing the vision from Itto’s hands. “Let’s go back to the abode and discuss this. We shouldn’t be doing this out in the open when that creepy Celestial God can snatch me up at any moment,” you say, pocketing your vision.

“It snatched you up overnight at the abode while everyone was sleeping.” Pierro comments, raising his eyebrows at you.

You grab Dainsleif’s wrist and pull him toward the floating teapot while the men follow along. “Right, I forgot about that.” You laugh sheepishly. “While we talk about my newly obtained vision, let’s talk about installing surveillance in the abode, just in case it happens again.” 

You can’t help but feel the glass vision in your pocket. Why did you get a vision, and what’s the point of you getting a vision when you’re not of this universe? Everyone in Teyvat didn’t need to fight a Celestial God to obtain their vision. They obtained it in many ways, or it didn’t have a master, and the person somehow activated it. Why did you have to come face-to-face with a Celestial being to obtain one?

Many questions are swirling in your head, and before you know it, you’re sitting on the couch in the abode with your vision on the coffee table in front of you. Seeing the vision itself almost feels like a mockery. You can’t throw it away, or else you’ll lose your ambition and possible critical memories despite having it for less than an hour.

“Looks like I’m stuck with you forever,” you mutter.

The door to the abode closes. You look up to see the others walking over to where you’re sitting, all eyes glued to your vision on the table. 

“Let’s start from the beginning, shall we?” Tighnari asks, sitting across from you, grabbing the vision and holding it in the air to see if it is real. 

You puff your cheeks and exhale through your nostrils. “Start from the beginning?” You tap on your chin.

Cyno nods. “Yes, start from the beginning. After you tell us what went down while you were in the presence of the Celestial God, we’ll try to figure out what led to you getting a vision,” Cyno explains.

You sit back, press your back against the couch and close your eyes. Nothing special happened to you while you were in Celestia other than being forcibly taken from your bedroom and put in a dungeon. This turn of events was not only sudden, but it was unexpected. Now that you have a vision, what exactly does that mean for you? What will happen to your existence in your universe? Will it be erased, or will you become part of the fictional world you loved?

Note: I was going to title this story "Prisoner of Celestia," but it didn't feel right, and the overall story isn't focused on that. So I went with the current title instead. Also, I didn't specify which vision the reader got because I want you all to choose what element it is! Next week, there will be a new series, but it's for Honkai Star Rail instead of Genshin. Not sure how that's going to turn out, but I've had this idea in my head for a few days now, and I want to get it out of my head and post it soon. Therefore, there will be maybe two updates (the new series and mini-fic for the isekai'd!reader series) next week. We'll see how that goes. To my new and/or returning readers, please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for my Isekai'd!reader one-shot series and my overall taglist: @xyji, @chirikoheina, @yoru-trash, @kaoyamamegami, @deartoru, @luminarymoonlight, @toobytub, @ins4nebish, @bokuto-kinnie, @exhaustedcommunist, @jadedist, @mompt2, @chalksdreams, @thelost-in-time, @ventisweetheart, @hispasian-otaku, @juuuuuj101010, @samarill, @testsubject0012, @irisxiel, @kazuhaprnt, @lunarapple, @emilymikado, @mabie, @vinnie-w, @n8mareee, @heyimkay, @eliciana, @blesstosuisen, @goldeneclipsedragon, @jjvr4yxc, @sovermike-21-blog, @vox34, @skyyyyackerman, @undecidingfate, @nightlysunn, @faeryminnyx, @simpcreator, @lucifarts-boxers, @thelovebuggs, @urlocalheizousimp, @sunlightstarr (Accounts that I was unable to tag have been removed. Those who don't want to be tagged in certain stories are not tagged in this particular post. Remember to check your settings if you're allowing people to mention you/tag you in posts or not)

Read more of my works on my Masterlist | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

#Genshin impact x reader #Genshin impact imagine #Genshin impact fanfiction #Arataki Itto x reader #Gorou x reader #Thoma x reader #Kaedehara Kazuha x reader #Xiao x reader #Albedo x reader #Zhongli x reader #Childe x reader #Venti x reader #Diluc x reader #Kaeya x reader #Kamisato Ayato x reader #Dainsleif x reader #Scaramouche x reader #Baizhu x reader #Aether x reader #Heizou x reader #Al Haitham x reader #Tighnari x reader #Cyno x reader #Kaveh x reader #Pantalone x reader #Pierro x reader #Dottore x reader #Capitano x reader #genshinluvr

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Obligatory, I don't think I'm technically wrong, but I know I could be an asshole, I think I'm justified, I wanna know what other ppl think, etc,

This is mult. fandom related and I'm 25 and have been on Tumblr for approx 10 years so I'm not speaking as someone new to either Tumblr or fandom spaces

AITA for reporting art and fic as spam when it's tagged as something else in a tag I'm searching for?

This applies to many fandoms I'm in not just one so I feel no need to list them since it's not like personal beef or fandom specific drama but basically as I'm sure many people do when I want to see fan art or even the occasional fic for my favorite character I'll go into their character tag via Tumblr search, it's one of the few things I enjoy about this website is it's semi functional tagging and search system. But more often and usually lately I've been finding a lot of stuff in say character A tag that doesn't have character A in it, it's a drawing of character B that's been tagged with the main fandom tag, B, and every other main character. I know its so the art or fic gets more views but it's annoying ESPECIALLY if it's fic because not to generalize but fics tagged like that usually dont have a read more either so I have to scroll past this massive block of text that's not only a fic I'm not interested in, but one that's incorrectly tagged for a character I'm trying to find content of so they're the ones I tend to report as spam the most over art which is easier to scroll past ill admit

Even on ao3 it's a feux pas to tag characters that just "appear" if they're not central to the fic so they already shouldn't be tagging any character mentioned in their fic

This USUALLY tends to happen with people's oc posts as well and nothing against OCs they're just not my thing and if I were in the main tag I'd happily scroll by since I recognize their place but just like the other two I'll notice it's just a drawing of someone's oc or their OC's profile and it's tagged with the full main cast, thus showing up in the character I'm looking for's tag

Or character x readers and character A (and C, D, E, F, etc) will be tagged on a B x reader fic, obviously I have no interest in reading a fic like that especially when again the entire cast has been tagged not because they appear in the fic but for engagement

Also I'm not dumb I filter for fandoms so like if the tag I'm in is just "Steve" obviously I know it'll apply to multiple fandoms like Minecraft or avengers since that's a super nonspecific name/tag I'm talking about deliberate tagging within the same fandom

I also don't report the post if they're like "this is my OC his name is James Bond" obviously that's gonna show up in like the James Bond tag which while more specific would not count as spam since that's still a proper tag that would apply, it's the OC's name that just happens to be the name of another character

So, while I don't feel bad because I find these people annoying since they're obviously tagging things like I mentioned on purpose for attention but on the other hand I feel a little guilty because fan art and fan fic is important to any fandom but just, that is one of the definitions of a spam post is something improperly tagged on purpose

TLDR: I report posts in my favorite character's tag as spam when they don't have my favorite character but are tagged with them because they clog up the actual tag with garbage

#aita #am i the asshole

[senualothbrok]

I write fics about Baldur's Gate 3

I mainly write about Gale. I write angst, hurt/comfort, romance and smut (Gale x Tav/OC/reader). I often write about heavier issues like trauma, mental illness, and grief.

You can find a list of my work and other misc stuff below the cut. You can also find me on AO3.

I really hope you enjoy my work and blog. I'd love to hear from you with any comments, feedback, random thoughts, or fic requests, so don't be a stranger!

--------------------

Enough (Non-18+. Astarion x female Tav. Angst. Trauma and recovery.) AO3 link

You agreed to help Astarion with the Rite of Profane Ascension, but you can't watch him go through with it. You interrupt the ritual, and Astarion turns on you. Now, you must deal with the aftermath of your actions.

Love and Beauty (Non-18+. Non-ascended Astarion x female Tav. References to bereavement.) AO3 link

A few days after Astarion has taken you to his grave, you are lying in bed together. You decide it's time to make a confession.

Rest (Non-18+. Gale x female Tav. Hurt/comfort.) AO3 link

You have defeated the Netherbrain and survived. But when Gale asks you to marry him, you find that you cannot accept his offer.

Content (Non-18+. Gale x Tav. Mild hurt/comfort. Fluff.) AO3 link

After the reunion party, Gale wonders whether you regret choosing him over Astarion.

Prayer (Non-18+. God!Gale. Gale x Tav. Heavy angst. Grief/mourning.) AO3 link

The God of Ambition has returned to Elysium, and you did not follow him. You grieve for Gale, and you struggle to move on with your life.

A Show of Love (18+. NSFW. Gale x female reader/Tav. Smut.) AO3 link

Sometimes, Gale doesn't seem sure how much you love him. So you decide to show him.

Words (18+. NSFW. Gale x female reader/Tav. Smut.) AO3 link

At your home in Waterdeep, you and Gale recall the early stages of your relationship.

Progress (Non-18+. Professor Gale x female OC. Angst. Mental illness and recovery.) AO3 link

When you start your studies at Blackstaff Academy, you expect a battle with your demons. But the last thing you expect is to fall in love.

Promise (Non 18+. Professor Gale x female OC. Angst with a happy ending. Mental illness and recovery.) AO3 link

Gale learns what it means to love and be loved. Sequel to Progress.

A Brush With Danger (Non 18+. Gale x female Tav.)

Anon prompt: Gale's thoughts and feelings before his infamous declaration in the Shadow-Cursed Lands.

Unexpected (18+. NSFW. Professor Gale x female reader/Tav. Smut.) AO3 link

You pay Gale an unexpected visit after one of his classes.

Absolution (Non-18+. God!Gale. Gale x Tav. Angst.) AO3 link

The God of Ambition considers the last of his attachments. Sequel to Prayer.

The Difference (Non-18+. AU (isekai). Gale x female Tav/OC. Angst. Hurt/comfort. Mental health issues.) Multichapter. AO3 link

When a portal appears in your living room and Gale Dekarios tumbles out of it, you think you are going insane. But truth is stranger than fiction, and things are rarely what they seem.

Mortal pleasures (18+. NSFW. Smut. Gale x female Tav/reader.) AO3 link

Gale has shown you how gods bond in the astral. Now, you show him how good mortal pleasures can be.

---------------

More about me

Senua - 35/F - she/her

This post is a pretty good description of who I am!

I also love animals (esp dogs/cats/horses), tattoos, the Viking age, and existentialism.

Memes

I occasionally make Gale-related memes because I think I'm funny 💀

The inside of my brain

When your soul mate is a pixel man

Smooching Gale - the struggle

Gale porn is therapeutic

Fic vs therapy

Other things

* My dear friend @dolceaspidenera made some wonderful gifsets of Gale x Aurora from Progress and Promise. They are so beautiful, I still haven't recovered from them.

* Lovely @mahiiimahiiii made a beautiful piece of art inspired by The Difference, which overwhelms me with so many feels.

* My beloved bestie @practicallydeadinside-blog gifted me a cameo from national treasure Tim Downie explaining why Gale is so shredded and it changed my life.

She has also blessed me with:

- a comic strip of Words which has destroyed my ovaries and impaired my cognitive functions.

- a phenomenal drawing of Mia from The Difference.

* I commissioned one of my favourite artists @demiesop to draw Gale and Mia from The Difference, and she truly delivered.

* Tim Downie kindly did a beautiful reading of Gale and Mia's wedding vows from The Difference, which I treasure so much.

#baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction #gale fic #astarion fic #bg3 gale fic #bg3 gale smut #gale smut

[cosmicanamnesis]

little self-indulgent fic that I'm posting without proofreading, enjoy

steddie, modern AU, idiots to lovers | read on ao3

"It's not a big deal!"

Eddie's crush on Steve was a secret both short-lived and ill-kept. His first mistake was telling the band. Well, no, his first mistake was forgetting that Gareth and Will were dating and that Gareth had the physical inability to keep his fucking mouth shut. But Eddie telling his closest, most trusted friends about the guy he liked was definitely Up There on the list of mistakes.

Which was how Eddie found himself mildly hungover drinking black coffee in his living room while Dustin paced up and down the length of the trailer, berating him for not confessing his doomed love to his alleged "favorite child" sooner.

"HOW is it not a big deal, Eddie?" Dustin said, just a few notches too loud for Eddie's looming headache.

"Because it's not! He doesn't like me! He's never gonna like me! I'm an adult, dude, I have critical thinking skills. I know how to pick my battles."

"It's not- Eddie," Dustin suddenly went stone faced. "It's not about your chances with him. You're moving in with him. He deserves to know."

Oh yeah. There was that. Robin was starting college and there was no way she wasn't taking her Emotional Support Pretty Boy with her. The only place they could find was a 2-bed just slightly out of their budget, and had asked Eddie if he wanted to join them, finally striking out on their own in the city. The agreement was that Steve and Robin would share the bigger bedroom, and Eddie would get the smaller room to himself. Their move-in date was less than a week out when Eddie made his inebriated love confession at his quote-unquote Going-Away-Party.

"It's not about what he deserves, man!" Eddie said, sinking back into the couch. He rubbed his eyes hard to try and relieve some of the pressure building in his head and sighed. "If I don't say anything to him, nothing changes. If I tell him, everything changes!"

"Oh, please. Steve's an adult too, dude, if we tell him you like him but you're well aware that he doesn't like you, he won't make it weird!"

"Wait wait wait, hold up. Rewind. We? Who is we?"

"You and me!" The boys stared at each other in bewilderment for a moment. "Oh come on, Eddie, we both know that if I don't sit here and watch you do it, you're just gonna lie and say you told him when you actually just hid under a blanket listening to Metallica and wishing you had the balls to-"

"OKAY!" Eddie yelled, loud enough for the very shock of his volume to trigger his headache in full force. "Jesus H., kid, you don't need to call me out like that. Fuck. Fine. I'll do it right now, how about that?"

Eddie pulled his phone out and Dustin dropped down hard on the couch next to him, arms already crossed, smug satisfaction already settled on his face.

"That's what I'm talking about!" Dustin scoffed. "Here's what you should say-"

Eddie held up a hand to cut him off. "I'm not listening to you anymore. You had one long distance girlfriend ONCE, you're not some kind of Cassanova here… oh, son of a bitch."

"Son of a bitch what?" Dustin asked, scooting closer to read over Eddie's shoulder.

"I can't do this right now… The last thing I sent him was asking his opinion on the D&D movie and he hasn't responded yet."

"What the absolute fuck does that have to do with any of this?"

"Well I can't be like hey what's your opinion on this movie you know I love because I'm the one who told you to watch it, also I'm in love with you but it's no big deal. Like, what the fuck is that?"

"Oh… Yeah, you have a point." Dustin shifted back away from Eddie, covering his mouth with one hand in concentration.

"I mean… It can wait-"

"It can, but it shouldn't, dude! Shit… I mean, I could tell him, if you want."

Dustin had expected an outright "no" and was shocked when Eddie paused, apparently seriously considering the option.

"Actually… Yeah, could you?"

"Sure, but I'm not letting you see what I say until after I send it."

"You drive a hard bargain…" Eddie said, drumming his fingers on his knee. "Fine. Go for it."

Eddie stood and grabbed his coffee off the table, wandering slowly towards the kitchen, both to find some ibuprofen and to quell his temptation to watch Dustin quickly type a message to Steve.

"Okay. Sent. Now you can look," Dustin announced, beckoning Eddie back over as he downed the medicine. Eddie felt like he'd never moved so fast in his life. The message read,

Eddie wants you to know, before you move in together, he has a crush on you. he won't make it weird if you dont

As Eddie read, the three dots that meant Steve was typing popped up. Suddenly Eddie regretted ever agreeing to this, and pushed Dustin's hand and phone away so he wouldn't have to see Steve's rejection first-hand.

"He responded… Do you wanna know what he said?" Dustin said. Eddie was leaning hard against the armrest of the couch, staring into nothing, imagination running wild.

"Yeah, hit me," he said.

"Oh, alright. Thank you for telling me," Dustin read. "I don't feel the same way about him. I assume you talked to him about telling me."

"So he gets back to you right away but he won't tell me- oh. Never mind. He just responded to my text." Eddie was doing his best to not feel completely devastated by Steve's frankly predictable response to Dustin's text.

"So… What did he think of the movie?"

—

"Uh… Rob?"

"Yeah?"

"Um… Come here and… Just read this."

Steve and Robin were taking a break from packing up Steve's childhood bedroom in preparation for the move when Dustin's text came through. She quickly chugged the last of her soda and came around to Steve's side to see what he was seeing.

"Oh," she said, not bothering to conceal her surprise. "I mean… We knew this was a possibility."

"Yeah, I guess, but… What do I say? I don't like him like that."

"Then say you don't like him like that, dingus. He's probably breathing down Dustin's neck right now waiting to see what you say."

"Yeah, you're probably right…" Steve said. He typed and backspaced and typed something else until Robin got sick of watching and grabbed the phone out of his hand to answer Dustin's text for him.

"Just trust me!" Robin said, actively walking away from Steve as he sputtered indignances, chasing after her halfheartedly. As soon as she sent the text, she turned and shoved the phone roughly back to Steve's chest.

"Oh… Yeah, okay, that makes more sense than anything I was trying to say…" Steve conceded, reading the text Robin sent on his behalf.

—

Steve, Robin, and Eddie saw each other next when they were loading up the U-Haul. No one said anything, and Steve tried as hard as he could to act like nothing was different. It put Eddie's mind at ease while simultaneously driving Robin nuts.

Since Dustin sent the secondhand confession, the only thing Steve had on his mind was Eddie, and how he definitely didn't reciprocate Eddie's feelings, how he was definitely bisexual but Eddie… Eddie wasn't his type. He was pretty, sure, but he was so… Himself. He was loud and unapologetic and into things Steve had never even heard of. They had nothing in common besides their love for the kids.

But Robin saw it coming a mile away.

"It" finally came to fruition a month after they had all moved in together.

It turned out, Steve and Eddie were practically the same person. Same sense of humor, same taste in TV, they even took their coffee the same way. They really only differed in their music tastes, fashion, and theater snack preferences. 

Robin got the text in the middle of her French class.

shmuck: i think i have a crush on eddie

bobbin: FINALLY. please just kiss him and put me out of my misery

Steve came out of the kitchen, bag of chips in hand, to see Eddie just as he'd left him: cross-legged on the couch, demolishing a bag of Sour Patch Kids to the tune of the Criminal Minds theme music. He tucked his phone into his back pocket and rejoined his maybe-crush to watch trash TV until Robin came home.

He didn't know why he was so nervous. He knew Eddie liked him. There wasn't a chase here, he didn't have to flirt or try to win Eddie over… He just had to say yes and Eddie was his. It was different from any other relationship he'd ever been in. Maybe that was why it was so scary. Because it was new.

They watched the episode and bantered back and forth about it, same as always. But before the next episode could start, Steve hit pause.

"Bathroom break?" Eddie asked, hugging a throw pillow to his chest.

"No, uh…" Steve started, unable to even look Eddie in the face. "No… Can I… Can I kiss you?"

Eddie didn't answer right away, which finally inspired Steve to really look at him. His expression was completely unreadable.

"Uh… Yeah, I mean. Yes, absolutely. Um. But what happened to you don't like me like that?" It was such an Eddie response, Steve could almost laugh.

"I, um… I guess I spoke too soon," Steve laughed, trying to be cool and suave and everything else people thought he was in high school. Eddie brought the pillow up to hide his expression.

"Really?" he asked, muffled behind the pillow so that Steve almost couldn't hear him.

"Yeah, really. Just… Since you told me-"

"Dustin told you," Eddie corrected.

"Whatever… I dunno, I guess it put the idea in my head and now… I haven't been able to stop thinking about it… About you- what?"

Eddie was giggling quietly behind the throw pillow, gently rocking himself back and forth as Steve talked. 

"Nothing," Eddie mumbled into the pillow. "Go on."

"You're such a pain in the ass, y'know that?" Steve laughed again. "Can I kiss you or not?"

Eddie slowly moved the pillow away from his face to set it aside, revealing himself to be smiling like an idiot as he turned slightly to face Steve better.

"You understand I've been uselessly pining after you for like, two months now, right? Please kiss me, oh my god."

—

Dustin's phone lit up with a Snapchat notification; a message from Eddie to the D&D group chat. He expected a meme, or for Eddie to ask Jeff for a ride somewhere because his van broke down again.

Instead, it was a picture of Eddie looking smug, leaning against Steve's chest. Steve, apparently unaware he was having his picture taken, had his fingers tangled up in Eddie's curls. The text overlay simply read "hey guys guess what."

The first reply came from Gareth, a picture of him leaning against Will in the exact same position as Eddie was with Steve. "Gross," it said.

Dustin rolled his eyes. Eddie was about to get so much more insufferable.

#steddie #steddie fic #stranger things #stranger things fic #text

[awwyeah107]

2023 Fic Recs

Hello and welcome to my GIANT fic recs from 2023 post :)

I have been utterly obsessed with Tolkien’s works this entire year, and I’ve read more fanfiction in one year than I ever have before. My primary fandom this year was Tolkien, and I’m honestly rather astonished that it’s held my attention as long as it has, especially considering that this is a “recurring” hyperfixation (aka, this is not the first time I’ve had this hyperfixation).

So buckle up, ‘cause this is going to be a crazy long ride. The vast majority of these fics are Tolkien fics, but I’ve got a couple of non-Tolkien fics at the very end, and overall there's about 90-ish fics here in this bad boy XD

For each fic, I’ll give a one-sentence summary and then my thoughts on the fic!

I’m sorting them into oneshots, multi-chapter fics, series, in-progress stories, and misc & non-Tolkien fics. Within those sections, I'll loosely group them by various qualifiers like characters, time periods, and locations.

Intro: What to Expect & Fics Legend

Expect: Lots of fluff, lots of angst. Mostly genfic. Mostly Silmfics featuring or focused on kidnap fam, Fëanorians, Halenthir, Arafinwëons. Some Lord of the Rings and/or Hobbit characters are featured, so if you aren’t familiar with The Silmarillion, there are definitely fics that include characters a non-Silm reader would know. Most fics are rated T, with a few rated M.

Do not expect: Stories with a focus on romantic!Russingon (or any other first cousins x cousins ships—those really give me the ick), smut, or really gory or dark stories. No E-rated fics (with one *singular* exception where I did not know it was E-rated at first and only has a few E-rated scenes that can be skipped).

Fics Legend/Key These emojis are used to denote any stories that do have the following elements, and I’ll do my best to put appropriate warnings/mentions of certain potentially triggering topics as well, when needed.

🔒 Fic only available to AO3 users

⚠️ Features smut (skippable/not essential to the story or the focus of the story)

*️⃣ Features background/non-primary romantic!Russingon

🩸 Features somewhat graphic violence and/or heavy topics (including abuse and severe trauma or mental illness)

As I said, I’ll do my best to put appropriate warnings. However, a) there’s some stuff that just comes with the territory; Tolkien does not shy away from violence and trauma, and b) this is such a long list that I honestly may not remember if some of them apply to certain stories. Most if not all the stories do have content warnings given by the author as appropriate/necessary, so if I miss something, the author and/or the fic tags should tell you about it. My apologies if I do miss anything.

I will tag authors who are here on Tumblr; I've included multiple fics by the same authors, so I will only tag each author once.

Also, this may go without saying, but I feel like it does need saying: Your mileage may vary with these fics, especially those that are not particularly fluffy. For example, I don’t like romantic!Russingon, but I’m willing to read some stories with them in the background. I also don’t like smut, so I don’t read stories that prominently feature it, but if I’m already enjoying a story and I come across it, I will skip it. Same kind of thing with intense violence—I’ll skip or skim what I need to. So, read what you’re comfortable with, and don’t read or skip what you aren’t.

I want to give a massive thank-you to all of the fic authors, all of the people posting meta, and all of the artists out there. I was inspired to re-read The Silmarillion (for the third time) this year, and I highly doubt I would’ve been able to actually get myself to do that without all of the amazing stories and musings and art out there that drove me back to the canon we all love. So thank you ❤️

Oneshots

Haleth x Caranthir (Halenthir)

She is the Sunlight by @dreamingthroughthenoise (aka Alantie)🔒 - Caranthir and Haleth have a hike and a conversation. When I saw the title of this fic, I immediately thought of the Trading Yesterday song with the same name—and it turns out, the fic was named after the song, which fits Caranthir/Haleth as a ship so well! The fic itself is (bitter)sweet and beautiful, and I really enjoyed it.

easily sever what was never one by vauquelin - Haleth and Finrod have a discussion, and Haleth pays a visit to Caranthir. I loved reading this fic, and I’ve come back to reread it at least once. It was quite amusing at times, and I really enjoyed Haleth’s no-nonsense characteristics. The debates and discussions she has with Finrod and Caranthir are delightful to read—plus, I enjoyed Haleth and Caranthir’s dynamic and the waxing and waning tension between them. (Warnings: The fic outright says that Caranthir and Haleth have had and do have sex, in generally crude/slang terms, and there is one paragraph/section where things are described a little, but it can be easily skipped and I would not consider it explicit.)

Call It What It Is (Whatever It Might Be) by @sweetteaanddragons (aka Drag0nst0rm on AO3) (featuring art from @lidoshka) - Haleth is visited by several elves related to Caranthir, which raises her suspicions. A delightfully fun oneshot that had me grinning a lot! I love Caranthir/Haleth fics, especially when Caranthir’s denying he’s got a crush on her. Not a lot of Caranthir interacting with Haleth directly in this one, but it’s a great fic. The art was fantastic, I absolutely love Lidoshka’s art style!

Kidnap Fam

Enough by dreamingthroughthenoise (aka Alantie) 🔒 - Maglor and Maedhros argue over the twins, but later Maedhros comes to join Maglor and the twins on a picnic. This one’s a bit angsty, but it does have some sweet moments in it! I like the discussions the characters have; they feel thoughtful and well-characterized, especially in terms of how Maglor and Maedhros respond to each other. Both brothers have strong emotions, but they don’t go out of their way to be hurtful to each other.

Nightmares by @brievel - Snapshots of Maedhros experiencing nightmares and how Elrond and Elros respond. This is one of my favorite “Maedhros is having nightmares” fics where it features Elrond and Elros. It’s definitely angsty and tense, but I love seeing how the twins’ responses change over the course of the story. It really shows how their trust of Maedhros and Maglor develops.

Dawn (The Nightmares Remix) by sweetteaanddragons (aka Drag0nst0rm on AO3) - The aftermath of one of Maedhros’ nightmares from “Nightmares.” Good and angsty with relief by the end! I loved Maedhros’ reflections on the past (his memories of how he was trusted in Tirion with little ones are especially painful) and every aspect of Maglor’s interactions with his brother.

Chill in Your Heart, Life in Your Wings by @jaz-the-bard - After the Third Kinslaying, Elrond and Elros are kidnapped by a band of human raiders in Sirion, who decide to bring them to Maedhros and Maglor. I love JaztheBard’s kidnap fam fanfics, and this one is no exception. It’s a lovely oneshot with lots of feels! Features VERY cute Elrond and Elros. I just about died from cuteness during the fish book part, specifically.

Outrun the Storm by @secretlythranduil - Elrond and Elros are scared of the storm. I love a good kidnap fam thunderstorm fic, and I particularly love all the little details in this one: the guards joking about the claps of thunder being Morgoth’s footsteps, the twins thinking about what kind of state they would find Maedhros in, the reminder of how the Fëanorians found them in Sirion, and how Maedhros picks them up like Maglor had.

In Valinor pre-kinslaying #1

Unruly and ill-behaved, downright feral even by @swanhild - Fëanor and Nerdanel wrangle their rowdy, unruly bunch of elflings. This was quite amusing and adorable!!! I love the younger elflings’ antics and the older elflings’ “teen troubles” (so to speak), and Fëanor and Nerdanel parenting all of them.

Lack of All Trades by @darkfrozenabyss - Young Maitimo doubts that he has a trade or a craft. Cute father-son feels! I loveloveLOVE baby Maedhros and I loved getting to see Fëanor comforting him.

In Valinor post-kinslaying #1

The Spirit of the Law by @mynameisjessejk - Caranthir is re-embodied in Valinor. mynameisjessejk is one of my favorite authors who write the genre of “elves dealing with re-embodiment in Valinor.” This oneshot, along with the other re-embodiment fics they’ve written, is super super good. I really liked this take on Caranthir’s return, and I enjoyed the development of the Caranthir-Finrod friendship—one that isn’t usually seen in fic!

The Return of the House of Finwë by mynameisjessejk - The tales of the re-embodiment of five different members of the House of Finwë. Aaaaaa, this was such a heart-wrenching, feels-filled read! And so wonderful. I loved reading about each character coming back and seeing their reactions to those who came to meet them.

Pity Found by brievel and darkfrozenabyss - Fëanor and his sons are re-embodied in Valinor. Such an emotional fic! All the feels were amazing. I really enjoyed the fic, and I liked how the end left it open for the family to work things out further.

Beyond the Western World by thearrogantemu - Finrod and Curufin meet in Valinor. I really enjoyed this reckoning between the two of them! Finrod has such control in this conversation, yet he still has compassion for Curufin in a way. I liked how their conversation flowed and alternated between focusing on the present and the past. I think both of them needed to speak to each other, not only for closure but also to fully realize things about themselves. It was already a detailed story, but all the little reminders that they knew each other so well lent an even greater sense of depth to the story, which was beautiful. (Plus, I love the title.)

Though All Whom Ye Have Slain Should Entreat For You by thearrogantemu *️⃣ - Thingol has a conversation with Maedhros in Valinor. VERY interesting fic. I had never thought about Thingol and Maedhros interacting before, but hey, that’s what fanfiction is for, right? This was an incredible ride. I loved reading their back-and-forth debate and how calculating and emotional both were. Highly recommend if you’re in the mood for unusual character interactions and a very intellectual and emotionally charged discussion.

There Are Fires, There Is Laughter by ithilielthechosenone - Galadriel and Aredhel take a walk and catch up after Aredhel is re-embodied. I really enjoyed this. It is so beautiful and contemplative, and I love reading about the only two female descendants in the 3rd generation of the house of Finwë.

Finwëons in Beleriand/Middle-Earth

Regrets by dreamingthroughthenoise (aka Alantie on AO3) 🔒 - The Ambarussa have a discussion before the Fëanorians attack Sirion. I really like the characterization of Amrod and Amras in this fic! The way they decided to try to take responsibility for leading the attack in order to spare Maglor and Maedhros is heartbreaking but makes so much sense. I also had never considered how the situation with Eluréd and Elurín might have affected them, so it was interesting to read an interpretation of that!

Lands of the March by @cycas (aka bunn on AO3) - Maedhros discusses the lands and duties he has given to each of his brothers with Amrod and Amras. Quite an enjoyable oneshot! Maedhros is logical…but also quite caring, at the end of the day. I found myself smiling reading it!

Oh Makalaurë… by caeciliusestinforo - Maglor’s guilt over never going to find Maedhros in Thangorodrim causes him to neglect his health, which has consequences. I loved this fic. I’m a sucker for Maglor beating himself up over Maedhros’ torment and then coming to accept it, and Maglor’s desperation is depicted very well.

All the scars we can not see by waitingfover - Fingon has a flashback when he visits Himring. Awwww, poor Finno! Felt a lot of sympathy for him. It definitely felt like he didn’t really want to say what was going on, perhaps because it felt so obvious, but he did. Wish I could’ve given him a hug like Maedhros did.

i will not say the day is done by @southfarthing - Fingon and Maedhros avoid the conversation waiting to happen after Fingon rescues Maedhros from Thangorodrim. SO angsty, so intense, and so good!!! Maedhros and Fingon both have such different viewpoints on what happened and the context surrounding it—it pulls on my heartstrings to see them both struggling, but it makes it all the more poignantly beautiful when they can finally face each other.

Mithrim by @warrioreowynofrohan (aka WarriorEowyn on AO3) - Maedhros has three conversations with different people after his rescue from Thangorodrim. Oh my gosh, this fic is so freaking GOOD! Maedhros and Fingon’s first interaction was so intense and so good (“I’m sorry—” “You’re sorry?” was absolutely iconic. I practically shrieked and had to stop reading for a moment to compose myself). The fic also has a good dose of Maglor guilt, which I’m always happy to read!

Non-Finwëons in Beleriand/Middle-Earth

An evening off by earthbound_misfit - Rog enjoys spending an evening with his friend Egalmoth after work. This was such a good oneshot! So refreshing and peaceful. It felt like having a home-cooked meal :) Lovely!

Sharp Things in the Way by @dawnfelagund - A character study of Daeron, of sorts. This fic is a beautiful mosaic of moments in Daeron’s life—it’s all so bittersweet and deep and full of twisting emotions, and I honestly feel a bit of pity for Daeron after reading it. I haven’t read many fics focused on him, but I really like this one. I thought his and Maglor’s dancing around each other and the musical techniques they shared and took from each other were particularly fascinating parts of the story.

Reflections on Injustice by @hwestalas - Túrin sees Beleg heal a march-warden, and he himself later has the chance to help Beleg heal. Sweet, and a little painful! I enjoyed it. Beleg as a healer and a warrior is awesome, and I liked reading Túrin’s shifting emotions.

see it fall, child of war by swanmaiden 🩸 - Elwing says goodbye to her children. If I had to use one word to describe this fic, it would be “heartbreaking.” I expected it to be painful, and it really, truly was. I teared up reading Elwing telling Elrond and Elros she loved them, and I could feel the fear and anguish felt by the elves around Elwing. This fic really made me feel the terrible weight of the Fëanorians attacking Sirion, which was meant to be a refuge, and I think it was meant to do that. Very well-written!

Among the reeds by Adlanth - Elwing, Tuor, and those of Edain heritage spend time together in Sirion. I absolutely LOVED this!!! This is one of the first fics I’ve read that focus on the Edain and their heritage. I feel like they tend to be less appreciated in fandom, in favor of the house of Finwë (although I’ve definitely seen fics and meta about the Númenoreans). In any case, this was a delightful fic; I really liked seeing the small community of humans grow together and share their culture and history (mainly of the house of Bëor). Beautiful.

LOTR/Hobbit Characters

In A Yellow Wood by @lordgrimwing - Modern AU where Thranduil, wife, and young Legolas go on a hike. SUPER super cute oneshot!! Really enjoyed it. I love how Thranduil and his wife play with Legolas!

The Castaway by warrioreowynofrohan (aka WarriorEowyn on AO3) - Legolas and Gimli meet a stranger as they prepare to sail to Valinor. Quite enjoyable! I loved the difference in Legolas and Gimli’s opinions regarding what they should do, and how Gimli’s perspective and compassion helped Legolas to consider his prejudices. The dialogue between all of the characters was excellent!

A Warg in Sheep’s Clothing by @arofili (aka starlightwalking on AO3) - Fíli and Kíli find an injured warg pup in the woods. This was such a wonderfully fun fic to read! There were a few sad moments for sure, but I love reading stories with Fíli and Kíli because their characters have such a youthful joy and hopefulness to them. I loved “Buddy” and dwarflings’ bond with him was so adorable! (Also, I love the title XD)

General/Misc

Shinystarship Has Invited You To Join A Zoom Conference! by jaz-the-bard *️⃣ - Elrond’s father figures make a plan for how they will support Elrond when he sails to Aman (by using modern technology in Arda). THIS IS HILARIOUS. I love it. The Zoom names are perfect. I’ve reread this a couple times and I laugh every time!

Wealth Enough of Joy by StarSpray - Elrond and Celebrían enjoy time with their newborn twins and more family. This was such a sweet, lovely fic. It has the feeling of a summer evening—which is appropriate, since the description is “Elladan and Elrohir are born at twilight in summer.” I actually drew a picture in my little sketchbook of what I thought Elrond and Celebrían’s room would look like!

Mercy by @nothinghereisworking (aka cuarthol) - Snapshots of Celegorm and Finrod. I haven’t read many fics centered on Celegorm and Finrod, and I really like this! Features scenes in Valinor, Beleriand, and then Valinor again. I love how it comes full-circle and how the meaning of mercy changes over the course of the story.

An Unexpected Friendship by StarSpray (featuring art from lidoshka) - Belladonna Took makes a friend. I didn’t realize how much I needed to read about Maglor interacting with hobbits until this fic—and it made me interested in more fics of the same ilk. This particular one was SO much fun, and I loved how much hobbit culture StarSpray got into. I also really enjoyed Maglor’s and the hobbits’ characterization, too. The art of Maglor and Belladonna is adorable!

To Justify Your Existence by jaz-the-bard 🩸 - Maedhros meets his father and brothers in Mandos and braces himself for the worst. Delightfully angsty! Poor, poor Maedhros. The self-blame is off the charts in this one, whew. The emotional climax is so fulfilling!

AUs

stare death in the face (and never back down) by @oopsbirdficced (aka ingenious_spark on AO3) 🔒🩸 - Instead of returning to Gondolin when Sauron lets him go, Maeglin escapes…and runs into some relatives. This is such a cool AU/twist on what happened in canon! Lots of feeeeels—poor Maeglin. However, I love that he found [spoiler] and that they all essentially took one look at him and decided to adopt him XD

Retaliatory Kidnapping by darkfrozenabyss - Elwing decides that kidnapping the re-embodied Fëanorian twins (Amrod and Amras) might let her make a trade with Maglor and Maedhros for her own sons. This may have been the first fic I read by darkfrozenabyss! It’s so enjoyable and engaging. I loved Elwing taking matters into her own hands and being determined to rescue her sons, as well as the reluctant friendship that began to take root between her and the Ambarussa. Great ending, too! An all-around fantastic story.

Less scary than before by waitingfover - Maedhros is feeling homesick at college and receives a package (modern AU). I seriously enjoyed this oneshot! It filled me with so much warmth, and it reminded me of my family sending me things in college :) I love how each member of Maedhros’ family sent him something that showed how they loved him/thought of him, each in their own unique way.

Wayward Son by @thescrapwitch🩸 - After being re-embodied, Fëanor sets out on a mission to find his second son. This was sweet! I really enjoyed it. Fëanor’s dedication to loving and caring for Maglor is wonderful.

Where the Heart Is by mynameisjessejk *️⃣ - Amarië does not let Finrod go to Beleriand without her. A very cool AU where Amarië goes to Beleriand! We love to see it. I really like how it changes things and how the politics are different throughout Beleriand as a result.

Battle of Sudden Song by AeolianSands - Maglor encounters Sauron and recalls his cousin Finrod. I absolutely LOVE how this is written. I am SUCH a fan of Maglor using Song and living up to his name and reputation! This was so deliciously wonderful.

who could ask to be unbroken (or to be brave again) by @piyo13sdoodles - Tauriel meets a lone elf on the plains of Rhovanion and becomes friends with the mysterious singer. I really like reading “Maglor makes friends with people after being on his own” fics, and this one was so sweet! I enjoyed Tauriel’s curiosity and spirit, as well as how Maglor cares for her. Their relationship is wonderful, and I love how they grow into being each others’ family. It’s a beautiful story :)

Tumblr Oneshots

Wet Boots by @amethysttribble - Baby Maedhros is playing, and Uncle Nolofinwë comes to find him. So fluffy and adorable and silly and SWEET! I love baby Maedhros, and this is one of my go-to fluff fics. (There’s also a super cute fanart/comic of this floating around somewhere—I thought I had saved it but I can’t find it. If I ever do, I’ll add it here.)

Finrod and baby Galadriel in Valinor by @actual-bill-potts (aka oswinry on AO3) - Galadriel wakes up Finrod. SO FREAKING CUTE. I LOVED this little oneshot so much. Tiny Galadriel is super adorable and big brother Finrod is just as adorable. Fluff level 3000.

Multi-Chapter Fics

The following multi-chapter fics are all complete (or have not been updated since 2022), and they all have more than one chapter. If any are incomplete, I will note that.

Girl in Middle-Earth & Modern AUs

Pathology by @wild-houseplant (aka appalled.elf on FanFiction.net) ⚠️ 🩸 - A therapist ends up in Middle-Earth and builds a life in Rivendell. This was one of the first fics I read in 2023, and what a wonderful way to start the year!! I absolutely LOVED reading this fic. This was one of those fics that kept me up late and had me glued to my screen whenever I could spare time to read it. I love its central themes of friendship, grieving, and healing. The relationships that develop between Rhodri and the various Middle-Earth characters felt so real and healthy, and it was simply so wonderful to read! The author adds a lot of notes and information about the mental health care that Rhodri, the main character, provides, which is fantastic. Also, the character-lands-in-Middle-Earth plotline is handled quite well, in my opinion; questions that usually arise with that kind of plot were answered and explained in ways that made sense and added to the story.

(Warnings: There is plenty of language/swearing, a bit of violence [not super graphic, to my memory], and a few smut scenes; the author usually warns ahead of time if there will be any smut, and it’s fairly easy to tell when things are going that direction, so you can skip it if you don’t want to read it, like me. Also, the link I have included is to the fic on FanFiction.net, which is much more updated than the fic on AO3; there are 107 chapters on FanFiction.net as opposed to 29 on AO3. However, the version on AO3 is rated as E, while the one on FanFiction.net is rated as M, just so the reader is aware. I first found it on FanFiction.net, which is why I did not realize it was rated E before I read it, and if you skip the E-rated scenes like I did, I believe it would be considered rated M.)

This fic is incomplete—the last time it was updated was in November of 2022—but the reader is not left on a terrible cliffhanger.

Don’t Panic! by boz4PM - A more realistic "girl-falls-into-Middle-Earth" story. Quite entertaining and interesting! This is a spin on the typical “girl gets transported to Middle-Earth and everything is amazing” story, where things are a lot more realistic: there’s a language barrier, there aren’t high standards of cleanliness, there’s no indoor plumbing…the works! I read basically all of it in one night. I love how Penny and Halbarad’s relationship develops, and it’s fun seeing Penny learn to fit in with elves! There’s also a sequel, which is great too. (Warnings: General…gross-ness, I guess, lol! Also, there’s a LOT of swearing, especially in the first several chapters. This does calm down though.)

Ten Weeks of the Terribles by troiaspider - Maglor is forced to babysit his younger brothers while his parents and Maedhros are away for several weeks (modern AU). I really enjoyed this fic! Didn’t want to put it down. It was so fun, and I laughed several times. It also had many touching moments that I didn’t expect, and I found myself smiling at various moments.

In Valinor pre-kinslaying #1

Make You Pretty by @theladyvanya - Vanifinwë, the only daughter and youngest child of Fëanor, likes doing makeovers for her older brothers, which leads to some…interesting results. This fic is SO CUTE!!! I love how the brothers all give in and allow their baby sister to play with them, even if they know they look extremely bizarre by the end. And when [spoiler] is the only one who is actually truly upset by the game, it does get resolved by the end of the story. The fic is quite humorous and sweet!

Trial and Error by waitingfover - Each of the young Finwëons tries to bake something for their family, with varying results. Adorable set of oneshots! I like how the nature of each of the baking incidents matches the elfling or peredhel that is attempting to make something :)

In Valinor post-kinslaying #1

The Host of the West by mynameisjessejk - Finrod is re-embodied in Valinor. Oh my goodness, this was so good. I loved the exploration of Finrod’s emotions (and how being re-embodied affected him physically as well!) after coming back to life. The tension between him and his parents/those who did not know him in Beleriand felt very palpable, and my heart broke for him multiple times throughout the story. The resolution at the end was touching, and I felt reassured that things would look up for the characters as time went on beyond the ending of the story.

Memento Pugna (Remember, You Must Fight) by sweetteaanddragons (aka Drag0nst0rm on AO3) - Fëanor is re-embodied in Valinor, but from the very start, things are bound to go sideways. This was a great read! I loved the characterization and relationship development throughout the story, and I really enjoyed the chaos and shenanigans that happened. The story is quite hilarious at times and touching and angsty at others!

To save a life by waitingfover 🩸 - Fëanor is re-embodied in Valinor, and he has to deal with several hostile family members and other problems. Really great! It’s quite interesting, and I loved how Fëanor’s character developed over the course of the story, and how he comes to prioritize family over his own desires and pride. I also really liked how the plot changed and how various characters were introduced and included! (Warnings: There is a scene with mention of sexual abuse and a traumatized character expecting further abuse, and a brief scene of physical child abuse by a crowd of unnamed characters.)

More than the Stars Above by sweetteaanddragons (aka Drag0nst0rm on AO3) - Elrond visits his father, Eärendil, in Valinor. This is one of my favorite fics centered around Elrond and Eärendil. Their interactions here are so well-written and so spot-on! I like the alternating point of view, and I simply love how their relationship was portrayed.

The Ransom of the House of Fëanor by @eirianerisdar - Elrond petitions the Valar to return Maedhros and Maglor (and their brothers and father) from the Void. Oh my goodness. This fic broke my heart in the best way. SO. MUCH. ANGST. AND. FEELS. AAAAAGHH. I could see a lot of the different emotional situations coming, which made it even more angsty when they finally hit. I kept having to pause and stop reading because TOO MANY FEELS A;SLDKFJALF. Highly recommend if you want Elrond angst (and just angst in general).

The Last Ember by eirianerisdar - Nerdanel and Fëanor begin to reconcile in Valinor (compliant to The Ransom of the House of Fëanor but can be read separately). I absolutely love this Nerdanel-and-Fëanor-work-things-out-in-Valinor fic!!! Nerdanel’s vacillating emotions were so palpable and real, and both her and Fëanor’s characterization was wonderful. The pacing was done quite well, and I love how things ended :)

Rising as if Weightless by StarSpray - Elwing’s brothers return to life in Valinor. This was such a wonderful, feels-y fic! Elwing’s emotions throughout pulled on my heartstrings—and Eluréd and Elurín were so sweet. I loved meeting so many characters who were important to Elwing, and I really enjoyed the storyline. I couldn’t put this fic down!

In Beleriand & Middle-Earth

Family Reunions by Drapa *️⃣ - Finrod brings his human friend Bëor with him to a family reunion. I don’t think I have ever laughed more at a fic than I have at this one. I fondly remember sitting down to a bowl of soup and some bread for dinner and opening this fic because the premise looked promising…and then proceeding to nearly spit out my soup multiple times while reading. Finrod’s over-the-top behavior, the miscommunications and misunderstandings, the hijinks, and the ridiculousness of all of it was just way too funny. Highly recommend if you’re in the mood for some humor (or even if you aren’t).

Refuge by hwestalas - Maglor comes to Maedhros at Himring and does his best to hide that he is injured; this goes unsuccessfully. I absolutely love the interactions between Maglor and Maedhros in this fic. They are so filled with affection and teasing and the gentle kind of pushing between siblings, and it makes me so happy to read, even though they are dealing with war and deaths of their people. The love they have for each other and their siblings—and their people, too—is clear as day. It’s a lovely hurt/comfort fic, and one that I’ve reread a few times. Wonderful read!

This Taste of Shadow (SPECIFICALLY the Caranthir x Haleth chapters) by Mira_Jade - Caranthir and Haleth meet and slowly but surely fall for each other. I didn’t realize how much I needed a fic that took the question “what would it look like if Caranthir and Haleth really truly decided to get married, and not just in the elvish way [aka, through having sex], but to commit to each other until the end?” seriously and chose to explore it. I literally was obsessing over this fic for three to five days after I read it. SO. FREAKING. GOOD. This is one of the most well-written, satisfying, thorough Caranthir x Haleth fics I’ve ever read; the story is deeply emotionally engaging, and I loved it. Mira-Jade is phenomenal at exploring characters and really understanding them on a fundamental level, and how their relationships play out with other characters. And while it’s her interpretation, it feels very real and true-to-text. (Note: This is specifically a rec for the Caranthir x Haleth chapters; the entire work is a series of ficlets and oneshots that largely make up out-of-order story arcs. The link to each chapter can be found in the index/first "chapter" of the fic, which is linked above. I have not read the rest of the work, so I don’t know if there are any warnings I should give for other chapters. The tags do indicate that there is romantic!Russingon in the fic—there’s a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it reference in the Halenthir chapters, but otherwise none. Also, warning for a version of Celegorm who lives up to the epithet “Celegorm the Cruel.”)

Of Bright Stars and Dark Skies by @katinkacassio (aka CassioP on AO3) - The Fëanorians attack Sirion and take the twins, which leads to the twins living at Amon Ereb. This was one of my favorite kidnap fam fics I read this year! The characterization was well done, and I will always enjoy tropes like Elrond and Elros running off and Maedhros and Maglor having to search for them. Elrond and Elros are wonderful, and both parties opening up slowly to each other was heartrending and sweet.

Maglor Plays For His People After Doriath by Himring - Maglor contemplates Doriath and plays a lament for his people. Quite enjoyable—the contemplative nature of this fic is beautiful. I liked how Maglor considers what his people need and what he plays for them, and his memories of meeting Daeron at Mereth Aderthad were amusing and sweet. This fic really conveys deep a sense of wistful mourning.

Generally Interesting Lives by @glorf1ndel - A collection of oneshots for Tolkien Gen Week 2023. I love how unique these are and how each one of them stands out! I really liked the vibe of the stories—they were easy to read and the characters’ “voices” and personalities are strong. I particularly enjoyed the chapters about Maedhros and Lúthien, Huan and Oromë, and Galadriel and Bill the pony!

I need you more than ever right now by @senalishia - Elwing and Eärendil weather Elwing’s pregnancy with their twins. I love how this fic explored Elwing and Eärendil’s relationship, their personalities, and their perspectives on their responsibilities and having children! It’s compelling and well-paced. Also, I really liked the OC healer Curunada’s curious yet brusque nature! (Warnings: Childbirth, which is a little graphic)

General/Misc

Of starlight, s’mores and misadventures by waitingfover - A collection of oneshots about elflings and their adventures. These oneshots are SO CUTE and occasionally come with a serving of angst at the end with a flash-forward. A few of them are angsty in general, but the majority are just adorable, fluffy stories. If you ever need fluff, you will find it here! Also, this fic is how I finally got all of the Quenya names of the House of Finwë ingrained into my mind XD waitingfover uses them a lot in the story and provides lists of the names at the start of chapters, so that was super helpful! (Note: This fic is still being updated, but not on a regular basis, which is why I put it in the multi-chapter fics section instead of the in-progress section.)

As the Tides Flow by @starshipsilmaril 🩸 - The story of Maglor’s life, from start to finish. I loved it! Starshipsilmaril does a great job with Maglor's emotions, and Maglor’s love story and family were so sweet. Telumë is a wonderful character, and she and Maglor fit together quite well, I think. Definitely gets more angsty as the story goes on, which is expected. Great read! (Warnings: Silm-typical violence, not super graphic [to my memory] but it’s there. Also, The fic outright says that Maglor and Telumë have sex, and there are a couple paragraphs where things are described a little, but it can be easily skipped and I would not consider it explicit. It’s also pretty easy to see coming—it’s on the wedding night.)

Some Wild Thing by warrioreowynofrohan (aka WarriorEowyn on AO3)🩸 - Aredhel’s story, from Valinor to Beleriand. I love this exploration of Aredhel’s personality and character. The small snapshots and snatches of dialogue that relate the bigger picture are beautifully written, and Aredhel’s fiery personality shines through so well. I also really liked the depiction of her and Eöl (and Maeglin!)—it felt real and the way things subtly changed for the worse over time was chilling. Great read!

To Safety by jaz-the-bard - Young Elrond and Elros get transported to the Years of the Trees in Valinor and encounter their captors once again. I seriously love this story—I felt so bad for Elrond and Elros, and I felt sympathetic towards a bewildered Maedhros and Maglor (or should I say, Maitimo and Makalaurë). It’s fantastic! I’ve reread this at least 3 times XD

In a Field of Blood and Bone by @theheirofashandfire (aka ScribeofArda on AO3)🩸 - The Battle of the Five Armies, from the point of view of the elves. This was fantastic! It was awesome to read the events from a totally different perspective; the elves (and Bard!) come at the situation with different motivations, needs, and hopes for the future than the dwarves and Bilbo, and I think that ScribeofArda handled that very well. I loved the OCs Belhadron and Rhovaniel; they felt very whole and fleshed out, and it made me wish they were in the actual story so I could read more about them. Also, Legolas and Thranduil’s relationship was so sweet, and I love how much Thranduil loves Legolas even though he doesn’t outright show it much. (Warnings: Battle violence, as can be expected from a fic that’s about the Battle of the Five Armies.)

AUs

What once was mine by waitingfover - Maglor is given a second chance to go back and change things, starting at Losgar. What a great fic! I had the privilege to follow this fic from start to completion, and I loved getting updates. The changes—or lack thereof—were quite fascinating to read! This story features a strong dose of Maglor dealing with guilt and depression, which was heartbreaking but also understandable (and, as per usual, I ate it up with a spoon). This one of my favorite AUs!

The Rescue Party by AeolianSands - Fëanor, Fingolfin, and Finarfin decide to travel to Middle-Earth and save their children before the Doom of Mandos takes them. Really enjoyed this! Quite humorous, with some sweet touches of fluff and some angsty bits. There’s LOTS of chaos and things happening at the same time, and it reminded me of a contemporary fantasy story where all these plotlines are overlapping! There were lots of twists and turns I didn't expect, which was super fun.

Waiting for Dawn by theheirofashandfire (aka ScribeofArda on AO3) 🩸 - The Fellowship of the Ring finds Maedhros alive in the aftermath of the Battle of Pelennor Fields. I love “Maedhros-and-or-Maglor-are-alive-in-the-Third-Age” fics, and this one is quite well-written! I absolutely adore Pippin in this fic; his compassion and sprightliness are so in-character and it’s amazing to read. The rest of the hobbits are delightful as well. There’s also a serving of kidnap fam with a good amount of angst and feels :) Gotta love Maedhros being healed (against his will) and coming to accept that he wants to live! (Warnings: There’s somewhat graphic descriptions of the aftermath of the battle and torture, and there is a very disturbing injury in the first chapter that was done by torture. Additionally, Maedhros is suicidal for a while.)

Say NO To Shiny (And Other Valuable Life Lessons) by @fflewddur-feanorion *️⃣ - Maglor joins the Fellowship of the Ring! As soon as I saw the description of this fic, I immediately knew I had to read it. It is absolutely HILARIOUS. I laughed so much! I enjoyed the more casual, less serious characterization of the Fellowship and felt both amusement and sadness towards Maglor at different moments. The story also features Fëanorion brother shenanigans and some epic Song awesomeness!

Little Bird by darkfrozenabyss - Elwing is lost in the woods of Doriath instead of Eluréd and Elurín, and Amras Fëanorion finds her. Oh my goodness, this one pulls on my heartstrings. It’s beautiful and sad and amazing all at once. I loved Amras as a father, and I felt so much for Elwing, having to be so grown-up so young. I also didn’t expect Eluréd and Elurín’s characterization (though it does make sense) and it made me upset for Elwing. I loved reading about her learning about her birth culture and about her relationship with Eärendil. I also liked how the story ended!

Accidently on Purpose by waitingfover - Curufin accidentally turns Finrod into a younger version of himself. I read this almost all in one sitting and it was delightful. I’ve already reread it once or twice since finding it!! The characterizations and handling of the plot were amazing, and baby Finrod was SUUUUPER cute.

The Ghost of Erebor by @mistergandalf (aka ItalianHobbit on FanFiction.net and AO3) 🩸 - In an “everyone lives” AU, Fíli has intense trauma to work through from the Battle of the Five Armies—but nobody knows what happened to him. *slaps roof of fic* This bad boy can fit so much angst in it. Soooo much angst! Fíli is so traumatized and it’s heartbreaking to read. Kíli and Thorin’s attempts to help Fíli are also heartwrenching; they care about him so much, and their worry is so palpable. And of course, the pressing needs of running a kingdom and having an heir don’t make the situation any better. This kind of story is right in ItalianHobbit’s wheelhouse!

Series

Lengthening Shadows series by waitingfover 🩸 - What if Maglor went to bargain with Morgoth instead of Maedhros? This is a fantastic concept and I loveloveLOVE it! The way things go differently is so interesting, and it opens up a whole new dimension of feelings for the characters to experience (especially Maedhros and Maglor). I really like the inclusion of the other Finwëons in the story too. Go give this series some love, these stories are some of waitingfover’s earliest Tolkien works and they’re great!

Sons of the Star series by brievel (most fics in the series are open to all readers, but a few are locked 🔒) 🩸 - This is the “Sons of Fëanor as a biker gang” AU that you never knew you needed. I certainly didn’t know I needed it. But I LOVE it. Brievel is still writing the series and I’m enjoying it! I love the characterization of the Fëanorians as tough and scrappy criminals, but with generally good hearts (especially Max). I get excited every time a new installment comes out. I also highly recommend Óhchikaape, an in-progress story [at the time of this writing], which is set in (mostly) the same universe. (Warnings: There's a lot of violence, and many of the stories deal with heavy topics.)

Maglor is an Eldritch Horror series by thescrapwitch *️⃣ - Speaking of AUs you never knew you needed, the name says it all: Maglor is an eldritch horror. The vibe is “cozy horror,” which I love; I’m not really a horror fan, but the ‘monster’ is on the good guys’ side, and I think that’s what makes it the good kind of scary. Most of the stories in this series are oneshots of Maglor and various characters living in Rivendell, but other characters come in from time to time. This series is mostly complete, but every so often theScrap_Witch has another idea and I get an update to this series in my inbox (which always gets me flailing with excitement). (Warnings: If you’re particularly squeamish or super sensitive to horror/any scary things, you may want to proceed with caution. However, I will say that I’m fairly sensitive to that, and I could just skim past any things that squicked me out—but there have barely been any.)

Return to Aman series by cycas (aka bunn on AO3) - Maglor sails with Elrond, Bilbo, Frodo, and Gandalf to Valinor. Oh. my. gosh. These were stories. SO well-written!!! I devoured every bit of them, and I think I need to reread them because I inhaled them crazy fast the first time around! (I’ve already reread a few out of order, but they work so well together as an arc and I would love to reread it again fully.) There’s so much that gets explored, the characterization is great, and overall the stories are just absolutely DELIGHTFUL. There are 15 fics in the series, and most are oneshots.

Nossecilmë series by fingonsradharp 🔒🩸*️⃣ - Oneshots of the kidnap fam. These are pretty cute (with a bit of angst from time to time)! I particularly enjoyed Little Stars and Nightingale. (Warnings: 🩸 only applies to the oneshot "Little Stars" for kidnappers physically abusing Elrond & Elros.)

Of Half-elven Children and the Difficulties that Result series by waitingfover - Kidnap fam oneshots. This collection of kidnap fam oneshots is so wonderful! These range from full-on angst to pure fluff, and there’s a whole bunch.

Old Maggie Took series by @tanoraqui (aka NevillesGran on AO3) - “Maggie Took” (aka Maglor) has become a friend to those in the Shire. A delightfully fun and touching series! There’s two works and both are simply fantastic. The first is centered around fighting ‘Sharkey’ when he comes to the Shire; I found myself grinning, cheering for “Maggie,” and alternating between laughing and going “awww” at the hobbits and Gandalf. The second story is about a going-away party held for those sailing west, and it gave me the exact feeling I get from being at a good, fun party with friends: celebratory and joyful in the best way.

In-Progress Stories

These are ones that are unfinished that I've really enjoyed and I hope get updated in 2024!

(Also, for any of the authors who see that I’ve included their in-progress fic, please don’t feel pressured to update—me saying that I'm looking forward to more is simply meant to let you know that I like the story and would love to read more if/when you update.)

Daughters of Therindë by darkfrozenabyss - Nerdanel and her 2 daughter-in-laws go back in time to prevent the kinslayings, but they accidentally bring someone along with them that they weren’t expecting: Haleth. You guys. I am glued to this fic. I get ridiculously excited every time I see an update in my inbox; I love it so much and go back every so often to reread my favorite parts of the chapters (and sometimes just end up rereading most of or the entirety of the fic). The characterization is great, and the plot is super fascinating! The tension between Haleth and Caranthir is highly entertaining, and I eat up every bit of Caranthir’s brothers’ teasing with a spoon like it’s ice cream. You will also find me screeching and grinning like a fool at every emotional moment I come across. I seriously enjoy this fic so much!

Óhchikaape by brievel and The_Anonymous_Coauthor 🩸 - Set in the Sons of the Star universe (read about the Sons of the Star series in the Series section); Riser Way [aka Celegorm, for the uninitiated] wasn’t intending to be a dad…but it seems this scrawny, sassy Native American kid is in need of a parental figure, whether either of them like it or not. I am absolutely LOVING this story and get excited over every update. I’ve stayed up late multiple times to read the newest chapter that’s been posted, and I’m 100% sure that I will do it again, given the chance. I love how Riser and Nikki’s relationship develops over the course of the story. There’s a lot of humor and heartwrenching moments, and some serious and soft moments as well. If you aren’t familiar with Sons of the Star, I definitely suggest you read some or all of the series to get an idea of who the Way brothers are, because they (especially Riser and Ken) are primary characters in Óhchikaape. This story is now one chapter away from being done and I'm super excited for the next installment of the series! (Warnings: The story features violence, and it deals with heavy topics, including trafficking and child abuse.)

if somebody loved you, they'd tell you by now by @aurorapillar (aka auroracode on AO3) - Maeglin escapes Gondolin. I’ve been really enjoying this one! auroracode writes Maeglin so, so well—it breaks my heart to see him so traumatized, but it feels very real, and I feel proud of the progress he’s made so far! I also really love how [spoiler] interacts with him and helps him feel safe. I’m excited to see where this fic goes, and it’s been cool to read it from the beginning.

Identity Theft by waitingfover - Eluréd and Elurín come out of the halls of Mandos and are given to Nerdanel by a Maia who implies that the twins are Celegorm’s children; this most certainly does NOT cause any problems in the future ;) If this fic had an alternate title, I think it should be called something like “Olórin Makes a Habit of Kidnapping Elves” 😂  Because (slight spoiler) it’s something that happens multiple times throughout the story and always causes chaos! Anyway, this bad boy has 80-something chapters and is still going strong. The plot of the fic mutates throughout, but it is largely focused on Celegorm and his adventures, with lots of cameos from various Noldor and Sindar elves. I started reading it back in March, and I’ve really enjoyed seeing Celegorm’s character development as the story has progressed!

The Harrowing by @chthonion 🔒 ⚠️ *️⃣ 🩸- Sauron comes back to life from the Void and brings the Fëanorians with him. This fic has such a cool premise: Sauron being reembodied along with the sons of Fëanor and learning how to Be a Good Person™️ and Do Life™️ with all our favorite characters in Valinor. It does feature Silvergifting (Sauron x Celebrimbor), which I virtually never read because I’m not a fan of them together (in large part because the ship tends to remind me of unwanted stuff from my past); that being said, the fic isn’t just about Sauron and Celebrimbor. It’s mainly about Sauron and the house of Finwë (and Frodo!) learning to coexist with each other and heal from the past. Cthuluion’s writing is fantastic, and I love the interactions between the characters. (I particularly enjoyed Finrod and Sauron’s first conversation.) I’ve really enjoyed reading this fic! (Warning: There is a little smut, but only in chapter 16, I believe; I’ve skimmed and/or given a fairly wide berth to most Celebrimbor-Sauron one-on-one interactions to protect my mental health, so there may be more that I’m not aware of.)

Not About Owing by dreamingthroughthenoise (aka Alantie on AO3) 🔒 - Finrod and Amarië come to rescue Maglor on the beach. If there was an alternate title for this fic, I would vote “The One Where Maglor Gets Loved.” All of the characters are determined to make sure Maglor knows that they care about him and want him in their lives, and it’s so delightful. I also love the strong themes of redemption that are woven throughout, and there’s a deliciously dramatic scene with Eärendil that I practically screamed at. Each of the characters and their relationships feel so real and well-fleshed out, and it’s just lovely to read!

The Longest Night by mistergandalf (aka ItalianHobbit on FanFiction.net and AO3) 🩸 - A mysterious creature has attacked a village near Ered Luin, and Thorin Oakenshield and his nephews go to help. I’ve read all of ItalianHobbit’s Tolkien fics, and as I expected, this fic has got lots of whump, even for just 4 chapters so far! ;) It’s so very angsty and I’m eating it up with a spoon. I always enjoy reading Durin family fics—I just love their relationship and I really love how ItalianHobbit writes them. The link to the fic I put above is to the fic on FanFiction.net, but it is also posted on AO3.

When mercy stayed his blade by BarbieBlue - Maglor and Maedhros take Elrond and Elros with them after the Fëanorians attack Sirion. This is one of my favorite multi-chapter kidnap fam fics I’ve found! It’s got a lot of emotion and a fair amount of angst—it’s not super fluffy. I really like Maedhros and Maglor’s characterization in this one; they aren’t totally falling apart, but they’ve definitely got their issues, and BarbieBlue doesn’t shy away from that. I feel a lot for Elrond and Elros, who are certainly quite traumatized. Seeing the trust slowly developing between them and the Fëanorions is sweet, and I enjoy reading the dynamics between all of the characters.

we will make this place our home by @leucisticpuffin - Elrond and Elros get sent to live with their distant relatives Maglor and Maedhros Finuion. This fic is basically ‘The Secret Garden meets kidnap fam’! It is such a lovely story. I devoured most of it one time when I was up late (I had told myself that I really shouldn’t start a fic that had 40-something chapters at 2 am…but then found myself falling asleep at 4:30 am as I was reading. As soon as my eyes were open the next morning, I kept reading until I caught up!). I love the setting and all the little details that make the story work so well, and it’s really fun to read Silm characters in the mode of 1970s England. There’s a few OCs that help fill out the cast, and I enjoy their personalities and how they add to the story.

Less Wise and More Dangerous by DeepWatersWaiting 🩸 - Legolas is mysteriously transported to the First Age and runs into Fëanor and his sons. Great story, compelling and very well-written! I felt a lot of sympathy for Legolas, being plonked down in First Age Beleriand and facing people who he knew would kill his kin in the future. I like the development of the friendships he started forming (especially with Celebrimbor!), and I’ve been rooting for him as he’s been navigating the strange situation he is in. (Side note: anyone remember the AO3 shutdown back in July? This is what I was reading when that happened, lol.) (Warnings: There’s some graphic violence and injury/illness.)

Life After Death by actual-bill-potts (aka oswinry on AO3) 🔒 - Finarfin and his wife welcome Finrod after he returns from Mandos. So so so SO good. Oswinry writes SUCH good Arafinwëan fic. So carefully handled and well-written, and you can truly feel Finarfin’s desperate love and care for his son and his family. It fills a place in my heart I didn’t know was empty until I read the fic. (There have also been a few updates on Tumblr, too! Check out "my writing" and/or "silm fic" tags)

Yet Open Once Again Your Heart by @luteoflorien 🩸 - Maedhros has a breakdown, and Maglor realizes the twins are not as fragile as he thought. This one’s super heartwrenching, and I love it. The way Maglor treats Maedhros when he’s having his panic attack/breakdown/trauma-induced flashback is so well-done, and I really liked how the brothers had learned how to help each other on those bad days. The exchanges between Maglor and the twins (and between just Maglor and Elrond) are so raw and full of emotion, and Elrond himself is so wise and sweet.

What Was Sauron Thinking? by Chisscientist - Sauron is defeated…but it seems that in the process, he turned Gil-Galad into a child. The premise is so fascinating, and smol!Gil-Galad is adorable! I at turns find myself amused by him and want to give him a hug. The characterization is great, and I feel for Gil-Galad, having been unexpectedly turned into a child with memories of his adult self. I’m looking forward to seeing where this goes, and I’m glad Gil-Galad has friends/guardians around him who care for him!

Misc & Non-Tolkien Fics

Tolkien fics that don't fit into other categories:

The Silmarillion Rewrite by Jenavira - A rewrite/summary of The Silmarillion in modern language. Amazing. It was quite an enjoyable read, and it honestly helped me remember a lot of Silm characters! I think this was one of the main fics that inspired me to reread The Silmarillion again this year. I laughed several times, and I often loved the wording or phrasing of certain things that happened. (Warnings: There’s a lot of language/swearing, and there’s Silm-typical violence and trauma that happens.)

Never A Monster He Couldn’t Love by luteoflorien 🩸 - Harry Potter/Silmarillion crossover fic where Newt Scamander finds a new humanoid creature to befriend and care for, and Maglor finds a human who believes he is worthy of care and love. I absolutely adore the friendship that develops between Newt and Maglor. I’ve never read Fantastic Beasts fanfics before, despite being in the Harry Potter fandom, but luteoflorien’s Newt feels so incredibly in-character and it makes me want more. He is so kind and caring and curious, and he is exactly the type of person Maglor needs in his life to start healing from his past. luteoflorien’s writing, characterization, and handling of all the mental/emotional issues the characters go through is phenomenal, and the feels are off the charts. (Warnings: Maglor struggles with his severe trauma, and sometimes self-harms.)

Non-Tolkien fics:

hear you calling from some lost and distant shore by @sighonaraa - Loki meets Thor after the events of Avengers: Endgame (mostly compliant with the Loki TV series). Marvel fandom. This was EXACTLY what I needed after the ending of season 2 of Loki. So, so good. The banter between Thor and Loki, and also Valkyrie/Brunhilde’s character was great—the brothers care SO much about each other, and it's wonderful to read.

Lemon Cake by @afaroffsong 🔒 - Rosalind needs to make a cake for Jane’s birthday. Penderwicks fandom. I seriously enjoyed this fic! It's amazingly well-written—it felt to me like it could've come right out of the books! So lovely.

I mentioned this at the start, but I wanted to reiterate because I truly am very grateful: I want to give a massive thank-you to all of the fic authors, all of the people posting meta, all of the artists out there. I was inspired to re-read The Silmarillion (for the third time) this year, and I highly doubt I would’ve been able to actually get myself to do that without all of the amazing stories and musings and art out there that drove me back to the canon we all love. So thank you ❤️

And thank you to all who read this far XD Hope you enjoy some (or all!) of these fics!

#2023 fic recs #2023 fic review #tolkien fic #silm fic #tolkien fic recs #fic rec list #fanfiction #fanfiction recommendation #fanfiction rec list

[sapphicmicrofics]

March HP Femslash Prompts

March prompts for Sapphic Microfics!

Yes! We're back! (For March and April)!

These prompts can be taken and interpreted every which way you want, including changing the tense or pronouns or order of any dialogue. You do not have to stick with what might be the most straightforward association, and every individual prompt post will include a few suggestions to get you started.

This event is open to any HP femslash ship, any era, any character, OCs welcome.

All these prompts can be combined with other events (as long as they also allow you to combine prompts)!

If inspiration strikes, you are still allowed to write for any of the previous prompts!

The rules for this event can be found here, the previously submitted fics are all here and in this collection on AO3, and if you want to search them by ship you can do so here!

Sapphic Microfics is hosted by @hpsaffics, whose discord server holds a specific channel where these prompts and the incoming fics are excitedly discussed, so if you’re looking for people to talk with, check them out! (The server is 18+, keep that in mind!)

The prompts:

Teeth

Selfish

Muggles

Golden

Impossible

Bridge

Accident

Masked Ball

"They're gone"

Petunias

Nightmares

Toast

Title

Jacket

"Don't ruin it."

Bleeding

Field

Horses

Stress

Snow

Pond

Theatre

Hogsmeade

Prom

Illness

Bunny

Family

Pastel

Storm

Relief

Eggs

#monthly prompt list #harry potter #hp femslash #femslash fics #sapphic marauders #femslash #marylily #pansmione #fleurmione #cissamione #pandalily #dorlene #microfic prompt #sapphic microfic #monthly prompts #march prompts

[xxspirit]

Hello, my name is Moon. And I'm asking you to spread the word of KOSA (Kids online 'safety' act) an awful, deceiving bill that will censor you, me, minors, and adults online alike.

How the bill works will cause social media to change in a horrible way. It will make it to where you must upload your ID publicly to prove you're old enough to view 'explicit' content.

In reality, that content is LGBTQ+ resources for abuse victims, resources for abortion, resources for Palestinians, resources for sex ED, and more.

It will censor us, destory fanfiction, WHATS NEXT? Uploading private messages? Putting your IP in public?

It will end Tumblr, Fanfics, privacy.

PLEASE HELP END IT! Speak out! Stop them, reblog as much as possible! #EndKosa

Hi, I appreciate you for helping to stop KOSA and helping people understand what KOSA is, and I agree with you that KOSA is terrible.

BUT we need to take a step back, and calm down. I know lots of people are freaking out about this act right now, I am too. But I think a lot of the chaos behind it is because of misinformation as well, specifically about the whole IDs.

Just a warning v

I want to clarify to anyone if they are just skimming past my words that I am NOT ADVOCATING FOR KOSA, I hate KOSA, this act is definitely not to defend minors from the internet but instead HARM them even more as well as EVERYONE ELSE. I just think we are causing a lot of panic and chaos because of misinformation.

I just want to help calm people down, I tried to do my own research and tried to fact-check myself to make sure what Im saying is true, but if you know I said something wrong please let me know and I am so sorry if I misspoke, I will correct myself as soon as possible. 🙏

KOSA DOESNT REQUIRE A PERSONAL ID: I did my own research about the need of uploading a personal ID, but this doesn’t seem to be true. I will be reblogging a few things today that I found, and also this website for my evidence:

KOSA still needs to go through congress, and then the President. Although it may or already have passed through the Senate sadly, there is still another chance. So keep up with the rallying and keep giving attention to KOSA about how stupid it is! WE CAN STILL STOP KOSA!!! DO NOT GIVE UP!!

Even IF KOSA does pass… it will take MONTHS for the act to go into action. I found this screenshot from another person, I’ll be reblogging their post after this one:

It will take a ONE YEAR and SIX MONTHS(A YEAR AND A HALF)before KOSA actually starts being implemented. In that time, we can think of what to do, migrate if we have to, or whatever.

Also- know this doesn’t help tumblr but I also saw on another post which ill reblog, that potentially Ao3 won’t be affected, which may be nice for some of you to know.

Here’s a petition I found, I recommend signing it!

It is so awesome to see the community work together to help stop KOSA, but let’s make sure to be checking our sources and try not to spread things that don’t seem to be accurate! 🙏

Stay safe guys, and stay strong 💪

#I know this isn’t stuff I usually post #but I have been mentioned a lot in stuff related to this #and honestly KOSA has had me really stressed out and worried and I know many are in the same boat as me #but I’ve also been seeing other lovely people clarify some of the main things that had me freaked out #and I figured I could also help spread it to help calm others down too #stop kosa #anti kosa #kosa

[wickjump]

HELLO INTERNET AND WELCOME TO [wickjump]

My name is Wick (she/they), also known as Wickskip (TikTok), Wickjump (Tumblr), or Hopwick (AO3).

On all platforms my content centers around Undertale and the Undertale Multiverse, however I’ll also sometimes reblog/post about a few other fandoms.

What I post and reblog can contain themes of violence, mental illness, suicide/self harm, suggestive themes, or more. For those reasons, this blog is intended for audiences 16+ in age.

information zone /ᐠ - ˕-マ｡˚ᶻ 𝗓

[⁉️] byf/dni:

dni: pro/com/darkshippers, TERFs, zionists/pro-isreal, anti-semitics, basic dni criteria (bigots)

byf: i will sometimes post/reblog things of a suggestive nature, but none of said posts will be graphic nudity. i am not an nsfw account, and will not reblog or post nsfw content, but it may be briefly mentioned or discussed. any suggestive posts will be tagged as such so you’re able to block the tag and not see that kind of content.

[⭐️] faves:

aus: xtale, handplates, dusttale, reapertale, aftertale

au sanses: cross, reaper, lust, dream, dust, error, sci and fresh

canon ut characters: chara, frisk, asriel, toriel, alphys

other au characters: xtale alphys, xchara, uf!toriel, uf!flowey, reapertale chara, handplates gaster, starlo (ut:y), outertale grillby, core frisk

ships: lustblue, kross, hypersomnia, afterdeath, bad sans poly, errorink qpr, and drinkberry. im not a picky shipper though :))

coffee order: 60-120k word slow burn rivals/strangers/friends to lovers modern au (possibly with a fantastical twist)

[⚠️] boundaries:

don’t flirt with me or make sexual comments towards me, regardless of age or relationship status, including jokes!!!! conversations with graphic sexual themes are generally uncomfortable for me and i’d prefer not to have them.

don’t drag me into fights/start them under my posts!!!!!!!

sometimes i can be wrong about things. if i am wrong about things, tell me so i can improve!! i never mean to make anyone upset because of something i said.

NEW ONE: pls no asks referring to alcoholism or substance abuse 🙏 sorry this one fully slipped my mind

[🕯] other assorted info:

no twitter, discord, or insta :(

i have diagnosed autism, adhd, anxiety, and some others but that’s my personal biz. if i come off as awkward, ‘trying too hard’, unable to realize when a joke’s ended, or just weird/unlikable, that’s why. i’m seriously bad with that stuff but i’m trying my best!!

i’m an ace lesbian (i love women) and fem non-binary

i am squirrelstar, nightcloud, and mapleshade’s biggest fans and defenders ever!!!!!!!!!!! it’s fine if you don’t like them, just please don’t hate on them in reblogs of my posts or my askbox. common courtesy you know?

[🐇] links to my projects

COMING SOON (maybe)

(warrior cats divider by skelos-cath)

#i’m bad at tagging things and don’t have any personalized tags #i honestly don’t know who made the dividers unfortunately #i found them on a deactivated account though so there’s a chance testingbot3000 made them but i’m unsure