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sweetestbasil · 3 months

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RUBATOSIS || chapter one: self digestion

PAIRING : Dr.Gaul's Assistant!Coriolanus Snow x Experiment!Reader-Insert ( afab, they / them, sometimes it )

RATING : 18+ ( no smut in this chapter, but it's very unsettling )

WORD COUNT : 13, 776

WARNINGS : infidelity ( coryo's engaged to livia ), power imbalance, unreliable narrator ( it's 3rd POV but focuses on coryo's view ), unhealthy dynamics, dehumanizing language, medical experimentation, body examination that has... strange vibes, body horror-esque, coryo and gaul are messed up in this fic, he's more like his book version than movie

SUMMARY : 🙶 rubatosis - noun. the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat 🙷

Fortune, marriage, and success - all within the hands of Coriolanus Snow, and it still isn’t enough to satisfy him. Tigris has grown distant and Livia is far more trouble than it's worth.

Dr. Gaul has just the solution for him.

A/N : This is my first time posting my fanfic work on tumblr, so I hope everyone has fun reading this. If there are any mistakes, lemme know. This is the first of five chapters!

[ If you want to read it on AO3 instead ]

self digestion || autolysis - stage one of decomposition

Oh, he hated this.

He absolutely despised this.

A click of the soles, stepping against the freshly clean sidewalk, rid of any possible careless litter and debris. Had it not been for others who, too, were using the same path, even if they were going in opposite directions, had he half a mind, Coriolanus would have taken the moment to prop himself against a wall and let out the loudest sound of frustration. It wouldn’t be unwarranted, it wouldn’t be uncalled for. Dare he say, he almost feels he should be entitled to it. It had only been four days, but four days should have been enough time for Tigris to get back to him already. The correspondence was not even something of dire content, at least, Coriolanus imagined so. Questions of Grandma’am, if her time with Mrs. Plinth ( he was not going to refer to her as ‘Ma Plinth’ ) had been going well, how was the solo business venture regarding Tigris’s fashion going, was there any renovations that the home needed, how were they — things that he assumed, wrongly he guessed, that would be so simple to answer.

God forbid that he still had the decency to still check in with his family even after he long moved out into his own place.

If Tigris thought she could play him for a fool, she was the one in the wrong; the signs were as clear as can be, that Tigris was trying to ice him out as much as she could. And after all he’s worked hard for? Fixing the home up, making sure the fridge never stays empty, stabilizing the family. He’s even gotten engaged before Grandma’am could even croak, and is letting Tigris design his fiancé’s wedding gown! What else was he supposed to do to try and gain back her warmth? Dance and clap like a District to make himself seem smaller, more dumb, to please her? There was a lock to his jaw, a small grit in Coriolanus’s teeth, as he sipped down the coffee in his hand, the other in his coat pocket.

He didn’t even wish to broach the idea of his fiancé on his walk to the Citadel. The heavy breath, a sigh, that breached itself out his lips. A hand raised to rub a gloved thumb briefly at the bridge of his nose.

Ugh, Livia… It was a pain to even internally taste the words of her name on his tongue.

It was an arranged marriage of convenience that he sought after, an extra piggy bank that he could expend on; and how quickly the elder Cardews lapped up at his palm when he planted the idea of marrying their daughter. A man who was of the old guard elite families, an assistant of Dr. Gaul’s, inheritor of the Plinth’s fortune, a gamemaker in training? They were downright salivating, that he almost felt embarrassed for Livia having to witness her parents’ stripped to their barest of greeds. The keyword being almost. Coriolanus needed to play his cards right to ensure his future, it was only fair game. If that meant taking his chance with the Cardews’ and their banks, he’d be just the fool that Tigris would want him to be if he turned them away. But, he could reluctantly suppose that the arrangement could be considered an equal drain on both parties. He seized their assets and their daughter seized up his free time. How could he forget the fundraiser dinner that Livia had invited them both to later on in the evening? She was delightful enough to remind him of it while they shared breakfast together, between his bites of quiche so that he couldn’t show a hint of a frown.

Coriolanus sucked in a careful breath between his teeth.

If she could only put herself to better use than just the one redeeming quality of a socialite. There was a slim chance he may have miscalculated. Perhaps it would have been an easier time, having something set up with Clemensia, or Lysistrata.

“Mr. Snow! Good morning and welcome back, Dr. Gaul is already waiting for you in—“

“In Lab H05, got it! And a good morning to you, too.” He smiled back effortlessly to the front desk worker, giving them a wave and just the right, charming amount of teeth with the upwards pull of his mouth.

Entering into the Citadel and seeing the hive of workers shift from one place to another in constant movement; they all tried to keep their voices at a low volume, but there was a constant buzz in the air, as they went from one hall to the other. Coriolanus maneuvered himself around them, slipping his deep mahogany overcoat seamlessly folded across his forearm. Full-Grain leather gloves that kept him warm from the cold, taken off his hands and instead placed neatly into the pocket of his overcoat. What a marvel it would have been for his young, naïve self to bear witness the luxury of a full wardrobe he now had. Never again did he have to spend long nights studying for the Academy besides an equally tired Tigris, who busied herself with trimming down the sizes of his father’s discarded shirts to fit him for school the next day.

It was a muscle memory at this point, the path to one of the many labs that Dr. Gaul had established her practice in. She had told Coriolanus that she had a lab for each different study and project she was passionate towards, ones that were more… presentable, to the average Capital citizen, and ones that were more uncensored. Having worked for over a year under Dr. Gaul’s tutelage, Coriolanus had seen a decent amount, the clean and the vile, but even then, he knew very well he had not seen all. He wasn’t even sure if he did want to see all. Especially regarding what happened last time he wandered around the Citadel during Academy days. The doors to Lab H05 were wide open, Coriolanus noted, seeing it in his line of sight, getting closer and closer. It was inviting, telling any worker to come in and step in at any time ( should Dr. Gaul be around ).

The air here was entirely different from what it was in the hallway. Where the air from when he first entered had been warm, inviting from the nipping cold outside. The vague smell of coffee, and an even fainter scent of something chemical, had mingled and intertwined to give the vaguest illusion that the Citadel could pass for a workplace like any other. However, the lab was as if entering an entirely different building. The lights that shone uncomfortably glaring, fluorescent lights that were hung overhead, on the ceiling. There were small lights, embedded into the floors and columns as well, guiding the path to any who walked in. It drowned the large room in an almost blue light. Lab H05 was one of the “clean” labs. A sterile scent in the air, the chemicals that were so faint in the halls were far more prominent, evident here. But, to the trained nose, there was something faint here too. The rusted scent of iron tickled under Coriolanus’s nose, but it barely registered to him anymore as anything concerning. Seeing the endless shelves of… odd specimens, the scent of blood was the last thing that should ever scare him away.

“Dr. Gaul, good morning,” He kept a steady tone, not one that sounded tired, nor too joyous. Being seen as her “favorite” didn’t mean he could speak to her as casually as he pleased. It just meant that he took her current attention. A fickle thing that could be stripped away at any moment if he showed any less than acceptable.

“Coryo,” He tensed his shoulders the same time she breathed it out in loving fashion. Her back once facing him, now turned as she walks towards him to cut the distance between the two. Since the gap started to form between Tigris and him, Dr. Gaul had taken to using that nickname on him. If it was to be used in terms of endearing him to her, or to mock him with the name that ghosts had called him, none could say for sure.

Coriolanus liked to believe it to be both, if he believed his assumptions of her character were right.

He never once let his eyes leave contact with her own, but he could hear the movement of her prominent, red latex gloves being peeled off her hands. She always thought it to be ironic, to wear such a color despite her profession. It matched the dye job that she had done on her surgical gown. He felt the weight of hands touching either side of his forearms, the smile on Dr. Gaul’s face caused a crinkle in her eyes as she bared all teeth in her smile. He wondered if she knew how threatening her grin looked.

“A morning to you as well. Has it been treating you good?”

It felt as if some sort of warm feeling was spreading out from Dr. Gaul’s hands, through his arms and into his body. What a disgusting sensation, it made goosebumps rise on his skin.

“As well as it could be.” Coriolanus’s voice spoke softly.

Livia drained his energy far more than he expected with her morning rambles and gossip.

Dr. Gaul’s hands smacked against his arms in a laugh, loud and knowing, she always knew, turning around to walk deeper in the lab. “Hah! By the sounds of it, it seems you’re not getting some peace of mind when you head home,” She turned back to look at him, giving him a glance, she was prying something out of him. “That’s no good, Coryo. You need to be in top shape to work, I can’t have my assistant become so… drained.”

The crease in her eyes showed again.

“If this is your preferred state, there is a new species of leeches I am working on. I assure you it is far more efficient than a Cardew of species.”

Well, now it was his turn to laugh.

A dry chuckle that slipped from Coriolanus’s lips, moving to follow Dr. Gaul. Placing his coat on a table made of rich wood, something less… aseptic looking. There were moments where he often froze under the woman’s gaze; a humiliating, bodily reaction that made him feel so small, so vulnerable as he used to be. Yet, it was in times like these, where he could understand how Dr. Gaul still managed to hold sway over people besides just exemplary displays of fear and power. There was a sense of humor to her, if he could call it that, where if a powerful woman like her involved yourself in - you felt so included, special.

“It was nothing like that. Livia just reminded me that after work today, she and I have to attend dinner later in the evening. It’s a fundraiser for the improvement and reconstruction of the Corso.” He turned his sight away from Dr. Gaul’s eyes, not being able to keep the contact any more. Flicking to the sight of the endless, bright shelves that lit up the tubes containing various specimens and experiments. Some failures, some on pauses, some successes, and some were just creative ‘what-ifs’; that would explain some of the seemingly useless fusions, like the jellyfish that had spider legs mixed in with some of its natural lappets, now encased in a resin tube. Coriolanus can’t recall if he was employed at the Citadel yet when this specimen was made. His fingers briefly touched upon the cool glass of it. What a disgusting idea. “I almost nearly forgot about it.” Dr. Gaul hummed at his response.

“Why, doesn’t that sound riveting! What a joy young life is, flitting from one function to the other, all the night-time glamor. You know, before I was transferred to work in the Citadel, I was the same. I thought of giving my children some of my old wardrobe from my youth, but it’s so out of the current trends, it just collects dust now.” What a blessing, for her kids. They could avoid the embarrassment of coming into the room looking as if they robbed the Pre-Dark Days exhibit at the Capital’s museum. The heels of Dr. Gaul’s heels clicked against the smooth, waxed floor. Coriolanus could feel the brief sliver of her heavy presence pass him by from behind, as she went to head over to another area in the room. It sounded vaguely close to the center of it.

“You must be excited, Coryo. Are you going to wear,” Her words paused. She was tasting the air for something. “Ah, what’s her name… That cousin of yours, the one who started her new business a while ago.”

What was the point of this conversation?

“Tigris.”

A brief flare tickled behind his ribs, reminding him of his thoughts earlier before. Standing up from his spot, fingers now leaving the glass of the odd ( sickening ) creature, his prints left slightly behind on the glass. Stretching his shoulders back with his arms, muscles pulled, away from their previously hunched position. Coriolanus walked over to where Dr. Gaul was, who stood nearby another table at the center of the lab. This time, this one was far cleaner, made of what seemed to be a material of stainless steel. In her hands she carried a manila folder, or two, in her hands; her painted nails sifted through the papers carefully. She was writing something quickly down inside of it. He wanted to know, but he held his tongue. Gaul would tell him if it was something he needed to be aware of.

“And I’m not sure. Livia is still picking out her dress and I want to match with her.” He smiled at her.

“Aren’t you a romantic,” She gives him a look out of the corner of her eye, the blue one that matched his. It made his skin crawl, he hated the feeling of it. “Is your heart melting, Snow?”

Coriolanus hopes she sticks to her career as a Gamemaker, being a comedian looks like a bleak future for her.

The smile on his lips grew wider, a small laugh at her words, his hand reaching to cover his mouth slightly to muffle the sound in the large room.

“I wouldn’t say that just yet.”

He wouldn’t say it at all. Livia? Melt his heart? Sure, she could melt his eardrums when she had that obnoxious snort to her loud laughs. It made her sound like a pig, shipped straight to the Capital from the farms of District 10. That would defeat the purpose of why he married her in the first place. It would be the utmost betrayal to himself, after he had promised to close himself after–

“Since you have a date tonight,” His ears perked up immediately. “I’ll reduce the amount of work you have for today, I’ll be merciful.” He wouldn’t argue if she decided to give him more. She pressed a manila folder into his open hands, her grip was tight on it. This was a folder that not many eyes needed to be on. Taking it carefully from her hands, he raised it to his eyesight curiously, catching the sight of the project name written on top of it.

PROJECT: CAPTIVE – A.01 PROMETHEUS

Coriolanus brought his gaze back towards Dr. Gaul. He assumed he slipped a confused gaze at her, because before he could even ask her, she’s already speaking up:

“This is a project I had started around the time you were exiled in District 12.”

His jaw slightly tightened. She didn’t have to use that exact word to describe it.

“It’s far more… unique,” Her eyes rolled around the room as she sought out the word, the moment it landed on her tongue, she locked her sight immediately onto him. Gaul’s smile pulled a bit more at her cheeks, a festering excitement that was slipping out from her internal confines. The threat of teeth in her smile was no longer an attempt of niceties, but far more sinister in its intentions. Coriolanus would argue on a good day that both were the same, that Dr. Gaul’s cruelty was her being kind. “Than my other projects. Far more different than any of my other muttations, this is a beast of a different breed, but one that you and I know intimately well.”

So this was a human experimentation, Coriolanus deduced.

Dr. Gaul would never dare to refer to those below Capital ranks as something human, there was always something else she had to refer to them by. Animal, beast, plague, insect, if it stripped them of their humanity, she was eager to take it. They shared similar sentiments, but sometimes, he had to give them some form of distinct name to separate them. “I’ve actually grown quite fond of it. Usually, I’d handle its tests and exams, but you seem like you need a pick-me-up.”

It should make him disgusted at how easily she could see through him.

The older woman stepped further away from him, into one of the dark recesses of the room. Lab H05 was one of the main center labs within the Citadel, meaning it earned itself the privilege to have its layout be connected to other rooms, outside areas, halls, and the like. It just happened to be, the darker areas that Gaul was heading in were towards the direction of one of the elevators connected to the room. Coriolanus watched her body retreat into the dimly lit area, not quite following after her. He didn’t know why. His hands felt stiff with the folder in his hands. The pounding beat of his heart in his ears matched in tempo with the steps of her heels against the floor. If he was going to move, she was going to need to ask him. She knew too, the doctor knew her own footsteps, and she was very aware when others’ joined in. Turning around to look at where he still was, standing, watching, she looked back at him. Coriolanus could make out her faint silhouette in the dark, but Dr. Gaul’s blue eyes shone brighter in the dark. As if she had tapetum lucidum, how it reflected so wildly. She was not helping the rumors made against her, that questioned if she ever used herself for a subject of fascination.

“Come now, Coryo. You don’t want to waste time.”

A silence fell upon them both.

“Understood, I’m right behind you.”

Walking after her, Coriolanus descended the small set of stairs that she had gone down from, he stepped into the dimly lit area. The manila folder was still grasped tightly in his one hand, at his side. He didn’t understand it, he didn’t understand her. Yes, she said that she wanted to cheer him up, but he’d be a fool if he was to believe that’d was to be the only reason why she was doing this. Volumnia Gaul, telling confidential secrets because she cared for his well being? No, there was always something else. An ulterior motive she wished to serve, or a lesson she wanted to teach. When he was brought back from his sentence of being a peacekeeper, it was not because her heart broke over him. She was not weeping at him having to tread his feet into the muck and grime of District 12. It was because she was holding him up to an ambition that both him and her both wished to see.

“This one,” Dr. Gaul started her words, occasionally turning her head to the side to make sure he was still following her ( he was ). “Started out as a simple curiosity. I had to sit with myself quite a bit to figure out a punishment that would actually serve some productivity.” Her hands reached behind her, flicking at the folder that Coriolanus was holding. He opened up the folder, finally, to look through the report. Whatever the Doctor was gesturing vaguely in conversation, it would be more explicit in her writings. “Displays of cadavers, desecration of the human silhouette, trauma to the cerebrum, these punishments can only go for so long before new ideas must be made. If the rebels expect the same disciplinary action, you can expect them to gain a tolerance to it.”

Squinting at the paper, he leaned his head slightly down to get a closer look of the subject. A small photo was attached to the report by a paperclip, it was a person who seemed to be in a similar age group to his. They looked clean, proper - they wore an ironed, white button up shirt under a dark vest, with unique, yet simple earrings they donned on. Pearls and tiny opals that dangled from a gold chain earring. A family heirloom, if Coriolanus had to guess. They smiled widely in the photo. Their teeth weren’t perfect, their upper cuspid was a bit more pointed in comparison to all others.

They had once been a capital citizen, turned rebel, to… this.

“I wanted to truly push my mind forward, and see if the impossible would truly be… well, possible.” Dr. Gaul grinned at the end of the sentence. Coriolanus lifted the photo up, after hooking his gaze unto the former for a moment. It’s a shame, he thought to himself. How pretty they are, had they not tainted their mind with childish ideas they would have continued to live in the comforts that they were so comfortably lavishing in before. He was curious as to whose family they once belonged to. A filthy curiosity enticed him, a want to digest more at the report at the risk of tuning out Gaul’s feverish ramblings.

“Personally, I outdid myself.”

There was a small desire to curse her under his breath, the writing for the subject’s name was far too rushed and messy to read properly. Did she want him to read the report, or play word scramble?

Dr. Gaul’s steps had stopped, the white noise of her chatter turned to silence was enough to bring his head back from the report. She stood between him and the elevator, holding her hands in front of her, folded. Peeking to the side, the button for the down level was lit up in a glow of red. Her smile widened.

“Curiosity eating away at you, Coryo?”

It still made his skin crawl, everytime she used that name. How frightening it was, that it also brought him a strange sense of the coldest warmth.

“You’ve talked so vividly about them,” Not clear enough. “I want to see what makes you so excited about them.” He wants to see if they could come close to bringing him out of his frustrations. Fingers that touched the edge of the subject’s photo twitched in tempo with the small ding of the elevator. Doors opening, Dr. Gaul stepped to the side. Hands gestured, letting him know to step in first which he obliged. Yet, no other steps than his own followed him in. Coriolanus turned around, a puzzled look on his face when he noticed how Dr. Gaul was standing in the middle of the elevator’s doors.

“Expected me to come join you? You can’t be so attached to my hip, Coryo.” She laughed, her hands reached in between her surgical gown and work attire. Pulling out a set of keys attached to her worker’s ID, she tugged a key off. Dr. Gaul dipped her body slightly in to twist at a lock that had revealed another panel of floor buttons aside from the usual floor ones. This must have been the key designated for the Citadel’s researchers and engineers. He had a private key of his own, but that was reserved for Game Makers. Still in training, but Dr. Gaul had persuaded the others to give him his own copy. “I have other things that need tending to, so you’ll have to have your fun without me.” Pushing a floor button that was labeled C09, glowing red under her touch, she gave him her key. She pressed into Coriolanus’s free palm, closing his fingers to clasp around it.

“You can keep this one. I’ll ask for another copy.”

Was it because this one almost seemed rusted over to hell and back? Coriolanus wasn’t an idiot. He could feel the textured sensation of something that, usually, was supposed to be smooth metal.

“Thank you, Dr. Gaul.” He spoke softly back to her.

Dr. Gaul sent him another smile towards his way, the abominable sight of her gradually leaving his sight as the doors closed. A divide now between the both of them.

Instantly, a breath of air was released from Coriolanus. His head reeled back, eyes closed, leaning against the wall of the elevator. He was now by himself. Free from that imposing woman, he finally could be released from her watchful gaze. Always gauging him, examining him as if he, too, was another subject on her surgical table. Perhaps, in a strange, distant sense, he was. Which is why he likes it far more when their interactions are limited. Even if it makes him feel guilty if he hasn’t spoken to her for any prolonged amount of time.

Another breath, he brought his head back down, eyes open. Opening his hand to where the key was held in his hand. It was frighteningly warm in his hand, most likely from when both Dr. Gaul and him held onto it. The material of the key was dark in color, rust having formed around some of the edges. Spots of dark stains marred its dull shine, it almost looks black in contrast to the key’s natural dark hue. This most definitely was blood, now dried. In his head, Coriolanus could see the vivid picture in his head: Dr. Gaul barely bothering to remove her gloves after leaving the examination room, holding the key between sticky gloves. A sneer pulled on Coriolanus’s face. He pocketed the key away.

He wanted to focus on something else.

The weight of the manila report at his side stuck out glaringly obvious, he still had yet to fully read through everything. His fingers were still thumbing between one of the pages, bookmarking a random place in the report. Should he wait to see the project on his own? Give himself something ‘fun’ to surprise himself with? A discomfort prickled at the hairs on his neck. No, he didn’t like surprises too much. Surprises meant no control, and no control meant chaos that wasn’t under his hand. And what more could be asked, when what he needed to know was right here. Hands flipped back open the manila folder while he waited for the elevator to finish its descent.

On the first page, there was only one photo of the subject, before the project had started. Dr. Gaul was always so thorough, so there must have been more to see. And how he loved to be right, when the sight of more clipped on photos peeked through in between pages. He stopped at the sight of them. These had been nude, taken in what was most definitely an examination room. They must’ve been in captivity for a few days for how haggard they looked. Gleam completely gone, with only a dark emptiness seen on their face. Signs of minimal swelling on their left cheek from when they were hit by a peacekeeper when resisting arrest. Bags under the optics, suggesting either sleep deprivation or developed insomnia. His eyes lingered on the photos that took in zoomed in shots of identifiable beauty marks that were scattered around their body. One around the back of their left acromial, around the sternocleidomastoid, one on the left mammary gland, and another on the right femoral muscle. Unconsciously, his fingers traced along the edges of each photo as he examined them until they traced after the words of ink.

The objective of the project: engaging and testing pain receptors on the subject. By use of non-licensed medication and surgical operations, the subject’s NTRK1 gene was mutated to a certain extent to gain the closest imitation to Congenital Analgesia ( while still keeping the subject alive ). If Coriolanus recalled, in his textbooks, Congenital Analgesia was a condition that always was given to a patient by a pass down from the parent. It was never really something ‘made’, or ‘given’. He could understand now why Dr. Gaul was so pleased with herself for accomplishing this feat. Curiosity was beckoning him, wanting to see more of what the report entailed.

Pages dedicated to each operation, each test done. There were pain charts made, scales from 1 to 10, to test out the nerve receptors. Each test, the numbers on the chart went lower and lower; 10s that went to 9s, to the current lowest being a 6 for the majority of the subject’s body. The more sensitive areas, such as the frontal or the palmar of the body, were around 7 to 8 on the chart. Flipping to the back of the contents, there was a small note in Dr. Gaul’s handwriting.

Today, please take care of Project Prometheus’s nerve exams. The last surgical operation was done last month and they have just now fully recovered. Update the report by the end of today, to measure if there are any fluctuations on their pain receptors.

Sounded simple enough. If this was all he had to do today, then there was a chance he could clock out from work even earlier to give himself space before tonight’s event. A ding finally was heard from the elevator, he was here at Lab C09. Folder closed in his hands, his foot stepped out of the elevator and onto the floor. What a drastic difference Lab C09 had been in comparison to Lab H05. If it hadn’t belonged to Dr. Gaul, Coriolanus may not have been able to believe that this was an actual functioning lab. It almost seemed forgotten by the Citadel, half of the fluorescent lights not working, or blinking at different intervals. It bathed the floor in a very gray, almost vile green hue. The scent of copper and rust was far more noticeable, and the smell of medicine felt almost nauseous here. There were no grand columns in sight, and no endless amount of shelves dedicated to new specimens and ideas of creation. The floors were unkempt, specks of dirt packed into the corners of where the wall and once sleek tiles met. Occasional cracks on the floor, parts of the design broken and shattered into bits of ceramic. The halls were long, with endless doors that ( thankfully ) all were open, empty, or both. With the exception of the large corridor doors at the other end. He could make out the sight of Peacekeepers that stood on guard, near the corridor door and by the elevator entrance.

This definitely was Dr. Gaul’s more… uncensored labs.

Coriolanus took a few more steps into the lab and noticed the large stain of dried blood that dragged from where his feet stood, past the corridor doors. Eyebrows raised at the sight, but his eyes did not widen. Marvelous, the subject might still be rebellious. If this was to be the case, he’d be severely unimpressed. All these exams to change the NTRK1 and nothing done to affect the amygdala.

Sloppy work here, Dr. Gaul.

Pushing through the corridor doors, after giving the briefest of nods and acknowledgement towards the Peacekeepers, he found himself exactly where he needed to be. Entering an area that was entirely void of light, except for one thing.

A large window glass on the other side, showing the examination room on the other side. It lit up this half of the hall, shelves of varying medicines and chemicals lined against the walls of the examination room. Surgical tools were lined up high on the wall, out of reach, not yet pulled out and placed on the side. Today there was no operation to be done. Examination lights shone overhead, and under it was the examination table where Project Prometheus sat.

They sat down so compactly, so politely, knees folded to their chest and arms wrapped around them, their face leaned against the crevice their legs gave. The subject definitely had changed, physically, since the projects had begun. Their skin barely had the warm glow it had in their photo, had it not been for the peeks of color on their joints, he’d assume that there was no more blood rushing through their body. Their hair that once looked so well maintained, luxurious, was cut at awkward angles. Yet, it still managed to frame their face well enough. Figures, that was former Capital genes at work. Their body has taken significant damage since then. Scars of various shapes were scattered all across, bandages wrapped in some areas, and stitches that dragged around entire limbs, like their arms, thighs, feet, even one on their face. As if they were some over-played ragdoll that was patched up far too many times. There was no fight he could see from their eyes, and no anger. Was the blood on the floor halls really theirs, or did that belong to someone else?

This could not even be called anything, but a shell of a husk.

Coriolanus stood there, watching, taking in the sight of them. It barely felt like he was breathing. And that alone irritated him. It’s like his body was trying to make itself seem smaller; as if he was somehow bothering them. He sighed out his frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose. They couldn’t even hear him from the thick glass, what would he be so concerned with? Bringing his hand back down, about to open the manila folder once again to compare their ID photo to their current state - he peeked at their form again.

He had been noticed by it.

His breath felt lodged in his throat, his original action now tossed to the side, as they and him both just… watched each other. Their eyes that had looked so sullen and distant before, were so focused and vigilant of him. But, they didn’t seem scared of him. Their body didn’t look tense, their expression didn’t twist into any wrinkles. What feeling was running through their body? Could they possibly feel anything? Coriolanus stepped away from the glass, slowly, and down further into the hall, to where the door of their examination room was. A peacekeeper stood guard near the heavy door, beside them a surgical gown, cap, goggles and gloves were on a hook. Excusing the other to the side, so he could reach and grab the attire to put on himself. Coriolanus questioned, as he tugged the latex rubber gloves on, if he still wanted to entertain the idea of holding their test today. Teeth grinded inside his jaw, he hated to admit weakness, but it was no lie that they unsettled him when they had stared back.

That probably contributed to why Dr. Gaul favored the project so much, both must take joy from bringing him such unease. A sigh hissed from his teeth, as he put the surgical mask on.

“I’ll be back out in just a moment. I’ll let you know if an emergency comes up.”

It’ll be easy work, and then he can leave.

Opening the door, the sterile smell of the room rushed past him as the metal door was moved from its tight seal and then closed heavily behind him. Their head had moved away from where the glass window was, turned to stare at where he stood near the door, their folder still in his hands. Thinly-veiled sweat was forming inside the gloves, with the silence that fell heavy in the room. He opened the folder.

“Good morning, Subject A01, I am–”

…?

Did they say something?

“...I’m sorry, did you say something?”

Another tense silence fell in the air.

“... That isn’t my name.” Its voice was quiet, slightly hoarse but not entirely. Unexpected, considering their length of stay here. His fingers pinched tightly at one of the pages.

“...What do you mean?” He was not going to call them by their Capital name. They had long since lost the right to use it, after rebelling against Panem.

“Dr. Gaul calls me something else.” Coriolanus was going to kill it if they did not clarify.

“And what does she call you?” This was the nicest tone he could muster.

They spoke it once into the air, still looking at him with those dead eyes of theirs. Had Dr. Gaul been so fond of it to have given it an entirely new name? And they accepted and went along with it? That didn’t feel right, from what he’s examined about them so far. They were a rebel, they had fought against a Peacekeeper, they were dragged around the halls bleeding.

And they gave up their old name?

It had shifted out of its cradled position, their legs dangled off the examination table and their arms were placed on their side. Coriolanus could see the patient gown they wore more clearly. It kicked its feet in the air idly, as it waited for his response.

… Do they even know the situation that they’re in?

“...Right. Well, do you know why I’m here?”

“Not really. I’ve never met you before.” Was context clues also something it gave up while in captivity? “I know the guards, and I know Dr. Gaul. I don’t think I know about you,” They’re a prisoner, it’d be counter-intuitive if people were giving them info about every single staff member here. His mask covered the lower half of his face, but he hoped the slight shift of facial muscle was enough to convey that was trying to smile towards them. He walked further into the examination room, closer to where it sat and where the shelves of drugs and medical equipment were lined up. Their stare was burrowing holes into his back, while he shifted around, opening and closing shelves and drawers to check inside for what he needed.

“Well, I am Dr. Gaul’s assistant. You can call me Snow,” He was not giving his first name to a former rebel. “I’m here today because Dr. Gaul is a bit busy today to handle your check-up, so I’ll be filling in her role.” Gloves shifted bottles around, turning them around to read the labels. The disinfectant, cotton swabs, tweezers, needles, rubbing alcohol, syringes, the bite-rag, marker, he had it all except the custom medicine that Dr. Gaul had made for it. In the instructions of how to construct their exam, Dr. Gaul had explicitly mentioned that they were to take specific medication, as they had helped keep it conscious at all times for operations and exams. It was needed so that they’d be able to relay the ratings, which is why Coriolanus was reading yet another prescription bottle in his hands, squinting in frustration.

“It’s this bottle over here.”

A delicate, scarred hand had pointed at another bottle that sat idly on the shelf. Coriolanus turned his head slightly, seeing the subject no longer on the examination table, standing behind him quietly. Not staring at him, they were entirely looking at where their hand pointed. They were only standing just a couple inches away from his body, careful not to touch him as they stood on the tips of their toes to point at the medicine. With this proximity, it was easier for him to get a closer look at them. The stitches on its body were done with thick, prominent threads; there were far more beauty marks he could pick out on their face that the photos didn’t display. The patient gown was made from a material far thinner than he expected, a visible silhouette could be seen from underneath the flimsy cloth. His mouth felt unusually dry.

A cold chill trickled down his spine. He barely noticed them. He doesn’t even think it made a sound when it moved.

“Careful, keep your space from me.” He spoke, a careful warning to their ears and a threatening promise on his. He didn’t want to risk being so close to them like this, he barely knew the extent of how violent the project could possibly be yet. Still, they listened, backing away from him and putting their hand back down to their side. Both it and him stared at each other again, the tense air dancing back inside the room. They looked as if they had wanted to say something, and Coriolanus, internally, felt almost violent for how demure they were being with him. It repulsed him, how it felt almost endearing if he looked at them for a second more.

“Is something wrong?” Eventually he bit the bullet, speaking first between the two of them. He can’t bear another moment of silence with it.

“... I don’t need a bite-rag. I don’t think I really scream much anymore.” They still had an issue with explaining context to him more, he’ll tell Dr. Gaul that needed some work lat– His jaw ticked… Why did he care about your abysmal social skills? It was a captive, it had no one to speak to other than their own captors. Pulling down their prescription from the shelf, a dark, thick liquid, he said in return: “It’s best to have it on hand, just in case you need it. Now, return back to the examination table.” For a split second, he thought he could see their gaze soften at him. Were they seriously entertaining the idea that he was being nice to them? Coriolanus just didn’t want to deal with their sounds while he worked. It’d be like trading one screaming fit for another, for when he had to go on his date with Livia later in the evening.

They nodded, and followed his command, walking back to sit on top of it. Their body was sitting in his direction though, observing, waiting for him. Coriolanus still felt unsure about them, but… it was strange, their obedience. It made him suspicious of its intent with all this. Trailing back to the center of the examination room, he placed all the tools on a metal tray. Pulling out an exam stool from under one of the tables, he set the syringe to the cap of its prescription. He pulled the plunger of the syringe up, watching as the barrel filled up with medicine, until it sat nicely. The needle left smoothly from the cap, and a drop of the liquid dangled at the edge of it. This form of silence he liked far more better.

“...Do you have family, Dr. Snow?”

So close. Coriolanus flicked the needle harshly, the drop hitting somewhere else. He placed the ready syringe down, and picked up the black marker. Turning back towards them, their head rested in their palms, watching him intensely.

“That’s none of your concern. Now please, remove your gown so we can get started on the examination.” Grabbing the stool to pull it underneath him, he got comfortable in the seat while it moved to get up. As their hands reached behind them to undo the tie around their waist first, it still spoke ( much to his chagrin ).

“I was just wondering since Dr. Gaul usually talks whenever she comes to visit.” That explained why their throat was not as hoarse as he was expecting. Dr. Gaul was treating her trials with them as a morning brunch. “She sometimes talks about her day, or talks about her family.” They loosened the tie around their waist, the fabric more flowy around their lower body. Coriolanus stared intently, taking in the first peek of skin. Looking past the scars, despite the stitches pulling at parts of their skin, and the dented scars, their skin looked soft, malleable. They must’ve been popular on weekend nights, back then. Their hands reached up to undo the tie around their collar. Rather than watching him while he worked, it was his turn to watch them. There was that beauty mark on their left acromial. Eyes leisurely trailed back up to their fingers, the smallest note with how it fumbled around behind them to untie the flimsy string. Their movements were clumsy, in his eyes, which almost surprised him. “She likes to talk about her three kids often.”

Coriolanus looked away from their stitched fingers, confusion on his face.

“Dr. Gaul only has two kids.” He’s seen the photos she has in her office. She has two sons, both who have gone on to have families of their own. Not once has she mentioned a third kid, Coriolanus isn’t even sure it was possible at her age. Didn’t menopause usually affect a person’s chances of getting pregnant? Maybe it was a secret child she had abandoned at the maternal ward while dropping off her resignation as an obstetrician.

“No, she has three. She told me their names: Caius, Martius, and Coriolanus.”

Oh.

Oh, now that’s…

“I see. You must be closer to Dr. Gaul than I am.”

He didn’t know what to really say to that. There was really nothing for him to go and argue about, especially with the patient. Coriolanus couldn’t quite outright say that the third child was him, especially when he specifically told them to refer to him by his last name. And if he revealed that this was an entire lie on Dr. Gaul’s end, he wasn’t quite sure how the woman would react for doing so. It wasn’t his place, when he had no idea what Gaul had wanted to achieve. He understood the physical punishment and hypothesis being put upon Project Prometheus, but he had yet to understand where the emotional, and the mental, aspect of this punishment was. Dr. Gaul will tell him if it was needed, or he’ll figure it out based on his own conclusions. That must be one of the purposes Dr. Gaul had assigned this task to him.

“Alright. I’m done.”

Coriolanus blinked. He didn’t even realize he lost focus on them, he let out a small exhale as he lifted himself from the exam stool, marker ready in hand.

“Right, for the next step of this exam, I need to…”

Words trailed off for him.

What an entirely different view it was, from before, looking at them only from the back. From behind, it was just read to him as a large canvas of skin that had already been stained and painted on. Nothing that gave way to what person under the flesh could be. Yet, the front… There was more to regard and take note of, a far more different feeling than just having viewed from the photos alone in the reports. If he were to ignore the marks left on their body, had they stayed perfect from before, he could’ve made the argument about their body being more alluring than the average Capital citizen. That familiar, dry feeling touched his throat again. What a waste, for genes like that to be wasted on a rebel. There were more beauty marks and moles in the front, along with more stitches and scars. Coriolanus could see the surgical scars that were healing between their pectoralis major area. A curiosity rose, questioning how scarred tissue would feel under his gloves. He raised an eyebrow, as his gaze dared to move to a lower section on their body. Must be for easier mapping, that Dr. Gaul decided it was best to have their pubic area shaved clean.

“...Dr. Snow, are you okay?”

His tongue darted out to lick his dry lips under the surgical mask.

“Fine, just thinking about Dr. Gaul’s instructions.” He was going to go insane before he could even head to the fundraiser tonight. Coriolanus reached his free hand out, hovering it over their shoulder area, guiding them to stand closer to the area between the exam table, and his stool. He took note, that despite the way their body has changed since their captivity, their body still held a warmth that radiated off from their skin. “Stand here, please. For this next step, I’ll be using this marker here to map out the different muscles and areas on your body. Are you familiar with this?”

The subject nodded, a yes from their lips.

Good.

The sound of the marker cap popping off filled in the lack of words on Coriolanus’s part, the black cap falling on the tiled floor and rolling off to a dark, distant corner of the room. “For today, we’ll only be focusing on the external pain chart. Meaning skin surface only,” He lifted the subject’s hair, pushing up against the subject’s head, strands that were long enough to block full access to the neck. Bringing the marker up, he pressed down the chiseled tip of alcoholic ink on the subject’s skin, making the first section of dotted lines. Writing on their skin in careful, small letters, the areas that compromised their neck; the semispinalis capitis, the levator scapulae, the rhomboid minor–

“How long have you worked for Dr. Gaul?”

Fingers nearly stumbled in drawing when the muscle stretched in movement, he lifted the marker carefully away from its skin. The idea of putting in Gaul’s suggestion box the order of a mouth gag was becoming all the more tempting to him.

“It doesn’t concern you.” Coriolanus responded, coolly.

He pressed the marker back down on its skin, moving himself to the anterior of its body. Between his gloved fingers, he held their chin. The muscle limp in his hands, letting him lift their chin up to show more, exposing the unfolded expanse of their skin. The project was an annoying one, but at the least,they were a pliant one. The black dotted lines drew itself across the subject’s body: the sternocleidomastoid, the sternohyoid–

“How has your day been so far, Dr. Snow?”

Would Dr. Gaul throw him to the curb if he strangled one of her projects?

Coriolanus lifted himself slightly from his leaned down angle, his fingers that once lifted its chin up, had pulled their chin back down to look at him eye to eye. Its gaze stared back at him with such emptiness, a lack of anything to be seen, no anger, no defiance, no discomfort, not even joy. His eyebrows narrowed down slightly as he took in the face that held no question to how, and what, manner he held their body in. Were they trying to please him? Make his guard drop down by asking questions, hoping that he’d become more sympathetic towards them?

“Dr. Gaul isn’t here. You are under no requirement to attempt conversations like you’ve done with her.” He spoke, trying his best attempt at sounding sympathetic to their ears. That would be the easiest explanation. The soul of them was sucked out by Dr. Gaul forcing them into an illusion of a grotesque socialite. That’d explain away the project’s incessant speaking.

Yet, the subject had tilted their head under his fingers. The slightest push against his grasp.

“... Do you not like talking, Dr. Snow? Dr. Gaul always looks so happy when she’s talking.”

So they were trying to suck up to him. He locked his teeth. And to think, he was giving them a chance of redemption, by assuming that they had been conditioned to engage in meaningless conversation. Maybe he was wrong about their obedience. There was still a spark of a rebel within them regardless of their time, their experiences, in captivity.

“I only ever see Dr. Gaul, so I got excited to see someone new. I’m sorry for upsetting you,”

They could’ve fooled him with that tone of voice. They sounded as dead as their eyes had looked. Yet, Coriolanus bit his bottom lip as the doubt touched his head; the subject’s stare, if he gazed deeply enough he felt as if he could almost make out a sullenness to them. Were they legitimately apologetic? He didn’t want to even know the answer, he just wanted to finish this job as quickly as possible. He let go of their chin, releasing it. Gloved fingers now traced the space between their shoulder and collarbone, the subject angling their neck to the other side to give him room. He brought the marker back down to their skin, more dotted lines appearing under his wake.

“... What exactly is your relationship to Dr. Gaul, if I may ask?” He hated them, he decided. He hated how quickly they managed to rope him into this dumb small talk. It was almost audible, the sound of the subject blinking, feeling their gaze boring under the layers of his clothes. Did he say the wrong thing? Did they not want conversation? He adjusted the weight of his stance, uncomfortable under the silence the subject had unwillingly placed him in. Was he not doing what they wanted, was that not enough for them?

“Dr. Gaul is…” Their words trailed off. They were trying to find the words, unsure of what to say to him. They most likely didn’t want to try and insult her, considering her assistant was in the room with them. They don’t want to risk possibly earning more punishment. Project Prometheus may have been smarter than what he initially assumed. Coriolanus moved back to the posterior, hands trailed themselves across the subject’s shoulders, feeling, to remind him of the muscle underneath before he marked it down. Trapezius.

“Dr. Gaul is my caretaker, I think.”

Well isn’t that something unique.

If the subject had decided to say captor, overseer, punisher, he wouldn’t have cared. It would’ve been honest. Caretaker? That was something different, that was something sympathetic. The thought of them turning this twisted dynamic into something heartfelt, fell sour on his tongue. It made him feel repulsion towards them. Why bother to lie? “Tell me about that.” His voice was soft, inviting the project to open themselves to him. As the marker continued to mark their skin, Coriolanus took one of its arms under his hand. The subject’s fingers twitched slightly, when he brought his hand under theirs. Their hand was not that big in comparison to his own, unable to fully fill out of his palm. The fingertips were usually the more sensitive parts, when it came to sensations. He hummed. Adductor pollicis.

“...I’m not sure how to describe it well.” They sounded unsure. Spending this extended amount of time with them, Coriolanus could make out the slight tonal differences they had in their voice. It was very small, though. The muscles in his hands seem to slightly tense.

“Do your best for me.”

Their fingertips, the slightly yellowed nails, tapped slightly at the latex material of his gloves. Almost as if fidgeting to gather the words, the right ones, to say to him.

“Dr. Gaul has always been… someone there, I suppose.” Because she has to. “The guards are there too, but they don’t really notice me in the way Dr. Gaul does.” He wrote down on another part of the subject’s arm, drawing another dotted line. Brachioradialis. “Even though the tests kind of hurt, but I’m getting used to it now, she’s been the only one so far to give me a name, a birthday, check up on me, tell me about her day,” He was almost impressed at how their were trying to upsell the ‘normalcy’ of their captivity. A new name and birthday? Maybe the secret third child of Dr. Gaul wasn’t him, but actually them instead. He almost laughed aloud at the prospect of it. Coriolanus turns to the other side of their body, taking the other arm of the subject to write on after finishing the other. Biceps brachii. “That’s like a caretaker, right?” And now it was asking for his confirmation? It truly does want to appease him. He let out another hum, as if he was thinking to himself when he was going to go along with their delusions. “It sounds like Dr. Gaul cares a great deal for you.” He lied to them.

Making his back to the anterior of the subject’s body, he stood in front of them, the subject tilting their head up to him. Project Prometheus was shorter, in comparison to him, standing at eye level against his chest. Latex touched the area of the linea alba, Coriolanus kept his gaze steady on them and they did the same. There was a silence that fell between them, but it felt so uninviting to him now that he finally had it. The subject still held their indifference, their apathy, and he wanted to know why it bothered him so much when he should like how easy of a prisoner they were being. No, there had to be something more. There was always something more. His fingers dragged down their skin, and his marker followed behind, writing down the names of the muscles he touched. The subject had moved their arms, and Coriolanus tensed for a second, thinking they were finally going to react, going to grab him, hit him, something – yet, their arms shifted away from the angle of his body, moving in to hold the muscles of the pectoralis major up in their hands, cupping them. They were making more room for him to write on their upper abdomen.

Coriolanus loathed them.

Had he had half the control, he would’ve smacked the stitched hands away. He liked it far more when they acted like a ragdoll, instead of this game of pacification it was trying to play. Writing down on the external oblique aponeurosis, he brought his hands back up their skin until it rested under their wrists. He held both their wrists on either hand. “Please, bring your hands down so I can continue mapping.” The words came out more as a whisper than he had intended. They instantly had listened to his command, letting their arms fall back on either side and their chest exposed to him. His eyes lingered briefly on the sight, taking in the small details that made the subject unique. The beauty mark on their left mammary gland, now in his line of sight. No longer blocked by the limit of only just a photo. There was that dry feeling in his mouth again.

Carefully, bringing a hand up, gauging their reaction, he held one of the mammary glands in his free hand and a marker up in the other. Judging their face, they seemed neutral, no frown or smile, no wrinkle, no squint. He could assume there must have been discomfort under those dark pits for eyes. He knew that’s what he felt, doing this right now. Coriolanus wondered if it would have been better or worse, if Project Prometheus were to be more… reactionary.

“Let me know if anything bothers you.” Dotted lines followed after his hand. He’d take it, the laborious small talk. It was much more preferred right now than this tortuous silence that had fallen between them. Thick and constricting, had it gone on any longer, Coriolanus knew he would drive himself internally insane if he was to be left alone to his own thoughts. If Project Prometheus had done nothing while he was holding onto their very own breasts in his hands. Had it been any other person, they would’ve squirmed under his touch. Possibly even a twitch to unconsciously move away, as the marker moved against the skin of the areola. The mapping of the right gland was dotted and marked completely.

“You don’t bother me.”

Now, that felt deliberate.

Ink halted, stopping after writing out the final letter of the pectoralis minor. The words were written next to the beauty mark he had noted before. Coriolanus was tempted to make dotted lines around the area, as a place of special interest, though marks like these were no major muscle or nerve. Blue eyes had looked up through thick lashes, he slightly lifted his craned head up to get a better look at the subject. Peering towards their face, he didn’t know why he expected anything different. It was the same look of disinterest, the broken lights hung above them casted a haunting shadow over their face. Did he also look similar, when they stared back at him? In certain angles, despite the unnerving look the room had given them, Coriolanus might’ve thought their eyes seemed naturally soft towards him. Innocent, maybe.

Did they see nothing wrong with what he was doing? … Or had all the tests and operations ruined not just their nerves, but fried them, that their sense of danger seemed near non-existent?

Was this another form of appeasement that it was trying to pull on him?

Unconsciously, his hands had released themselves, finally, from holding onto Project’s Prometheus’s breasts. Both now marked, his free hand slid down the expanse of their abdomen. The ridges and bumps of their scars and stitches were felt briefly, the full grasp of the sensation blocked by the barrier of latex rubber wrapped around his fingers. Not once did he look away from the subject as his hands made its way down, and neither did Project Prometheus. His hand stopped at the tensor fasciae latae. Something was wrapping itself around the cavity of his chest, making the activity of breathing a difficult feat for him to do. Coriolanus didn’t know what he was doing. Was he trying to garner a bigger reaction from it? An attempt of possibly stirring violence, even?

Maybe it was delaying his own discomfort, he realized. Looking down, he stared to see the spread of skin below that had no splotches of black ink. They were shorter than him, he’d have to get down on his knees if he wanted to have clear and easy access to mark its legs. How humiliating… Having risen up through the ranks and bringing the Snow family back to its rightful place of acclaim and fortune; only to fall back down on his knees to a prisoner, a former rebel. If the other families caught wind of this, he’d never hear the end of it.

Reluctantly, still holding onto their hip, his body moved itself to the floor. Knees touched against the uneven grout of the tiles, the position a bit awkward. He was thankful, for the surgical gown he wore, that the vile floor of the examination room wouldn’t stain against his clothes. Tracing his hand down to the stitch mark path of their leg, he rested it at the back of their thigh. Coriolanus tilted his head up, ready to command that Project Prometheus moved their leg more towards him. But, his words fell into a silent, held breath as he gazed up at them from his position. The shadow that had cascaded over their face briefly from before was now entirely enveloped around their body. Sickly green fluorescent lights shone above their head, akin to a haloing effect. Illuminated around the edges of their body, their hair, the subject still looking at him. Only him, and nothing else. A thrumming noise was loud in his ears; it felt dangerous. It felt like a warning that something was wrong here. He had felt it before.

Project Prometheus moved its leg forward, more into him, without a word ever spoken between the two of them. How pliant it was with him.

He pressed the marker against their skin as thank you, dipping his head back down to their thigh. It would be risky, if he lost focus. There was still so much he had yet to know of the subject, the layers that were contained behind the flimsy shield of flesh and tissue. He dotted the area of the vastus medialis, careful not to press the ink against the subject’s stitches so as not to irritate the healing skin there. Maybe its attempts of appeasement were working on him. Not once did he think he’d have a shred of enough care to think about the possibility of ink seeping into their wounds.

He marked down the region of the knee. Patella.

“...You’re a very gentle person, Dr. Snow.” The subject spoke quietly, in a whisper just loud for him to hear. “You treat me so carefully, I barely feel a thing when you hold me.”

It mistook his lightweight hands for kindness. Reality was that he was just wary about setting them off.

“Does Dr. Gaul not treat you in the same manner?” The words came out softly from him. Reaching now the ankle of the subject, gloved hands reached down underneath the sole of its foot, lifting it up for better writing access. Instinctively, Project Prometheus placed their hands on either side of his shoulders so as to not fall. Their body leaned itself more into him, using him as a steady weight of support. The proximity of their small body bent over his, the glare of the fluorescent lights was entirely swallowed up, casting a dark shadow over him, blocking the light from reaching him. Could they feel, under their ragged fingers, the tenseness in his body at their action? If the subject wanted to, they could easily go in to attack him in this vulnerable position. He’d do the same if he was in their position. He continued to write, marker steady in hand. There would be no satisfaction to be gained for the subject, in seeing him stumble and cower.

He wrote the words ‘abductor hallucis’ on their foot.

“She… does not treat me rough, no. If I had to describe it, I think the word for it is more… ‘inanimate’.” He doesn’t quite recall if a new law was passed that required captors to treat prisoners humanely. It sounded as if it was trying to recall certain words again. Should the exam go entirely smoothly with no problems, he might feel generous enough to convince Dr. Gaul to bring Project Prometheus a dictionary for them to study up on. Not like it would do much. It wasn’t like they had anyone to really practice their knowledge on.

Coriolanus wondered what the prisoner was exactly before all this, back when they were formerly Capital. They lacked the air of dignity and ignorance that most Capital elites donned well, but maybe that could be attributed to their decay while staying here. Or perhaps the prisoner had come from a small, simple family. The kind that handled all the manual labor that the Capital never liked to speak loud about. The workers who were hardly ever seen, or acknowledged. That could explain why he never heard any recent fuss over a family’s child being ‘sent away’. No one would ever care for a background prop.

It held onto his shoulders more tightly, as he adjusted the subject’s position. It didn’t want to topple over him.

Project Prometheus's right foot now marked accordingly, he placed its foot back down on the rotten floor. Ready to reach his hand to hold onto their left, the subject moved without the need for his touch. The left leg was gestured forward for him. How sweet of them to realize a pattern. “I don’t mind it, though. As long as she still talked to me.” How fascinating. The subject was pacified by the easy act of conversation. Such a simple thing to be pleased by, Coriolanus could think they were joking. Regardless of how things were going so far, he still didn’t forget it. The bloodstains on the halls was something he could not erase so easily. That suggested, no, it told him, that Project Prometheus had something up their sleeve still. Though, nothing had occurred. Nothing had happened because they were still speaking to each other. Coriolanus continued to write on its foot. Lumbrical.

“...Do you get upset if she doesn’t speak to you?”

He couldn’t help but ask.

He wanted to know. He needed to know.

“...I get lonely, and sad.” Was it trying to downplay its emotional reactions to him? “I wonder if it's because I did something wrong to upset her.” If a prisoner of his tried to fight back numerous times during their captivity, he’d get annoyed too. It was strange, though. Coriolanus knew that morals and values were of no concern for Dr. Gaul, especially against rebels. Any torture, punishment, placed on them was not seen as being done onto another person, but just another animal, a specimen in her collection. It would not be above Dr. Gaul to cut off a limb, or two, to get a prisoner to stop fighting. So… why not do the same here? Perhaps, this form of mental and emotional punishment was more lethal than he assumed. Another curious test from the mad woman, it was impossible to ever understand her whims.

“Sometimes, I think it might be one of her tests.”

Coriolanus didn’t say those words.

He didn’t like this. Such a statement, spoken so simply, brought him a sick swirl of unease.

The movement of ink had halted, yet his mind continued to race. The thin hairs at the back of his neck stood at its ends, and he held tightly onto the marker in his hand. Quietly, carefully, he placed the plantar surface of Project Prometheus’s foot back down on the uneven tiles below the both of them. Reaching his hands up to his shoulders, where the subject’s extensor retinaculum were, he held onto it firmly. The subject put up no sign of objection. Sweat was slowly building up under the tight material of the gloves he donned on, but it was not a sweltering warmth. It was a cold, clammy sensation.

“What do you mean by ‘one of her tests’?” Punctuating the words at the end, he kept his tone inquisitive, curious. Perhaps, a dabble of suspicion. Not towards the subject, but more towards the matter. What was needed in this situation was caution, and he’d be a gutted fool if he was to let the rebel become aware of how much the question startled him to his core. For right now, he’d play the gentle, confused assistant that it assumed of him before. He already told the lie of it knowing Dr. Gaul better than he did.

“Her tests,”

It spoke as if he knew! He knew very well what it was. What once was a flash of fear, had become a steady stream of anger. He knew because he is Dr. Gaul’s assistant. It was his job to follow in the steps she’s placed out for him, and more. Why would a prisoner, a subject, know about the ways Dr. Gaul operated? How much does Dr. Gaul tell it in these ‘conversations’?

It made him sick, that the lie he told before could actually become true.

“I never notice it until it’s done, until she tells me at the end. She never shares the results with me.” For once, he is tempted to strip his pride and beg for more details. “Most days, it’ll be physical tests, like today. Others, it’s more… talking, or writing.”

“Writing?”

It came out quickly before he could properly think his words over. He doesn’t recall seeing possible writing exams in Subject A01’s report. To be fair to himself, he did skim it briefly since he was only just now introduced to the project. There wasn’t much time for him to familiarize himself with all the tiny details written inside. At least, the things that were legible.

“Dr. Gaul hands me scraps of paper and just asks me to write what I think. Like uh, a journal…I guess.” Keeping a diary couldn’t be the only test Dr. Gaul was having it do. If writing random streams of thought was enough to be intellectually challenging, he wouldn’t be seeing students at the University fighting to win passing grades. “I don’t understand the reason why, and I never remember what I write. My memory is not the best.” It was giving him an excuse to try and shift the conversation. How funny it was, trying to take control of the situation. He’d never let such a thing happen. In this examination room, there was only one person and a subject, the dynamic that was at play was clear. The grip Coriolanus had on their extensor retinaculum tightened, an unconscious movement on his part. Project Prometheus had taken in a soft breath of air at the action, the sound loud enough between the both of them. Had it not come from a prisoner, what a sweet sound it could’ve been.

“Could you explain it to me,” His voice came out softly, despite the gnawing irritation that he held back. The tight grasp he had loosened, one hand stroking down a careful thumb down the stitched wrist of the subject in gentle circles. He shifted in his kneeled position, adjusting to a more comfortable weight as the layers he wore started to wear at him, an uncomfortable shift. Wearing the surgical uniform could be sweltering. Tilting his head up slightly to gaze up at the subject, praying that his eyes did not betray and reveal his inner thoughts. “Try to remember.”

Coriolanus could’ve sworn he saw a slight falter, a tremble, in the dark optics of Project Prometheus. Its supercilium furrowed just the slightest inch upwards; did it look apologetic? The first visible change of expression he’s witnessed in the time he’s spent here in this examination room, and it’s one of regret. The subject’s fingers twisted itself into the fabric of his surgical gown, opening its mouth partially as they sought the right sound, the right word. He could make out the faint peeks of its canines.

“... I’m sorry, Dr. Snow. I can’t remember at all,” They breathed out, in admission, surrendering. It treated it as a guilty confession.

“Not a thing?” He whispered softly to them, prompting them to speak more. Coriolanus applauded himself internally, for how sympathetic he sounded.

The subject shook its head.

“My memory is not good.” Again, it reaffirmed its previous statement.

Was his question that hard? Surely, specks of small details, flashes of imagery, that would be sufficient enough of an answer for him. He wasn’t asking for a full essay of their inner workings ( though, he wouldn’t mind it ). However, as both their eyes continued locked in a stare, his thumb slowed its movements. The leathered finger stopping at the center junction of its stitches, the feel of the raised, textured skin apparent under the feel of the material. Project Prometheus was being sincere. Its face hadn’t changed, its body had not moved away from him. Dare he say, the minimal space between them; something he did not mind earlier before, had become much more apparent in his feverish mind. The subject answered him so honestly, it made his suspicions of before seem so ridiculous now. One thing did nag at him though, the writing, the insistence of journaling, the memory.

…

“... Do you remember how long you’ve been here?” Two years ago, Coriolanus recalled. Two years ago, that was when he was abandoned in District 12. When Dr. Gaul had started the experiment on Subject A01, busying herself with curiosities while he was drowning himself in depravities and vices, waiting out like a dog for some form of mercy to reach him.

A new, tense silence consumed them both. He watched the subject carefully, taking note of the slightest movement that could give any indication of anything more. Tracing with his eyes, following how Project Prometheus’s cuspid snagged at their chapped bottom lip. A faint flush of red spread across the muscle, from the pressure exerted on it. Unconsciously, it reminded him of how dry his own mouth felt, the hoarse sensation in his throat. He darted out his own tongue for a brief moment to wet his own mouth, hidden underneath the surgical mask he wore. Nothing was being said between them, but yet there was so much being told. A fierce feeling was soaring, running through the veins of Coriolanus; he knew what it meant and he feared for it. Not for what the answer could be, but what it possibly could bring up.

“You don’t remember how you got it here at all, do you?” His voice was so hushed, spoken as if taboo. It gave him the same feeling of it, the rush as the blood was entering his head and his heartbeat loud in his ears.

A form of dissociative amnesia.

Project Prometheus had developed gaps in memory due to an extended amount of isolation and exposure to severe trauma. It all clicked in Coriolanus’s head. He understood now what Dr. Gaul was attempting to achieve in her games with the subject. The tests, the daily conversations, the journal writing – Dr. Gaul was examining the subject’s mental decay as part of the Project’s ongoing research. Not only has the woman deteriorated and changed the way the prisoner’s nerves had worked, but their mind as well. Is continuing the Project even viable to do anymore? It was a form of punishment. Would it be ethical to operate on a being of flesh, when the subject no longer knew what it was being punished for? The question would most likely give Dr. Gaul a kick of joy. She loved to ponder questions worthy of debate. Coriolanus wouldn’t put it past the woman if she already gave the inquiry out to one of her classes in a lecture hall.

“I vaguely do,”

His eyebrows rose in interest.

“But only in subtle feelings.”

Nevermind.

“I think I experienced some form of confusion. And bits of anger, too. Dr. Gaul… For a moment, I used to be so scared of her. Now, I can’t even remember the reason why.”

Project Prometheus’s indifference, Coriolanus realized, it was not just solely based on apathy. What had become of it was a blank state, unsure of how to process things so the mind refused to process it all. But, it was still something highly susceptible to influences, shown in how Project Prometheus had become conditioned like Pavolv Dog, to associate Dr. Gaul’s silence with anger and disappointment, and her socialness with satisfaction and joy. It all was dawning on him. He could see it now, why Dr. Gaul was so disturbingly fascinated by this project. Gloved hands moved away from the subject’s wrist, and reached out to lay in gentle manner against the side of their bare thighs. The subject allowed him to, never raising a sign of objection. Could he teach it to experience anger once more, when he treated their body like this? Maybe discomfort, disgust, despair - he wanted to show their blank canvas of a mind what it felt like to fully immerse themselves in these ugly emotions. He knew why they were like this, but there still was a lingering crumb of vexation directed at the subject. Somehow, in their newfound state, they still felt far more free than he ever did; how they almost felt nothing, and he had to feel everything.

And yet, there was another thought that touched him. He wondered, if he spent enough time with the subject, could he too, be able to condition them to other things. They thought of him as merciful, kind, in comparison to Dr. Gaul. Could he make Project Prometheus worship him, and in the same quiet breaths they were fond of, resent him? The thought of making them accustomed to anticipating his attendance, and lamenting his absence sounded tempting.

How nice it would be, to have someone other than a deranged crone enjoy his presence.

Tigris certainly didn’t anymore.

Coriolanus rose himself from the ground, gripping on the meat of Project’s Prometheus’s flesh to lift him. Under his touch, the pliant stretch of skin and tissue made the subject remove their hands from his shoulders. Another faint breath escaped their exhale. It was a sound he was slowly getting used to. Back to their original height difference, he no longer had to crane his head up to look at the subject. The subject had to lift their head up to look up at him, now. What did Project Prometheus see, in their gaze as they stared at him, Coriolanus thought. Was he too, consumed in shadow and bathed under the gritty lights of the examination room like they once had?

“We’re done with the mark-up.” It took him a moment to move away from the subject. “We’ll move to holding the nerve exam now, after I administer a low dosage of your medication.”

The uncapped, black marker was placed back down on the metal tray, aside from the examination table. Replacing its empty space was now the syringe he had filled out before, the dark color swishing as he picked it up. The needle gleamed under the fluorescent light. Turning his back around, Project Prometheus had already sat themselves up nicely on the edge of the examination table for him. Their legs dangled off, their hands held at the edges of the worn-out leather cushion, eyes fixated on his person. They were waiting for him. He’s almost bothered, how easily the subject could anticipate his next set of commands. He hoped that this was just due to routine, not because he had become easy to read. Coming up to meet them there, the only sound that filled the air was the sole of his shoes stepping against the tiles. Gloved fingers reached to grab at the jaw of Project Prometheus, the syringe held close to their face. It shone particularly brilliant, mere inches away from their face. The subject showed him no fear, no resistance, despite the way the skin of the cheeks had moved under his grasp.

Already, he wanted to break them.

“Show me where to inject you.”

He’d be sweet, Coriolanus would let them pick where it was most comfortable for him to inject the medication in. Project Prometheus complied immediately to him, holding on the hand that held their needle to adjust the position. They guided him to the back of their neck, moving their hair to make space. To reward their compliance, he pricked the syringe quickly under the skin, careful not to touch an artery or nerve. The dark liquid inside the barrel slowly filled out, emptying itself as he pushed the plunger down. The subject did not let out a sound, a favorable contrast to Livia, who waited for him outside these Citadel walls.

He was going to mold them into something useful.

#the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #tbosas fic #thg series #thg fic #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #volumnia gaul #tw medical #medical horror #fanfic #.// ♡ basil's archive #. // ♡ rubatosis series #its insane how much i wrote for this first chapter lmao #its like 30 pages on google docs #i am obsessed with this man #i really wanted this chapter to be a focus of snow & reader building their dynamic and bond before we jump off the deep end #i am really excited to write the coming chapters

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dnd-smash-pass-vs · 6 days

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Inevitable been thinking about how that one anon viewed Laios as a monsterfucker, and I think it made me realize the source of that confusion:

I think many monsterfuckers, and also many (dare I say most) monster devourers like Laios, both derive their desire from the same source: a latent wish for apoteratosis, the wish to become a monster.

Linguistic side note: apotheosis, becoming a god, breaks down to apo- (towards the end point), theo (god), -osis (turn noun into verb), so I swapped in the root for monster, hence apo- terato -osis. Side note over.

Monster devourers are a rather rare archetype in (mainstream) fiction, but they do exist. Those who seek to mimic or emulate the monster's power, those who find them endlessly fascinating and study them well past the point of obsession, those who wish to show their dominance over the monster by proving that they can kill and eat it... and I think Laios is the first I've seen who takes the title quite so literally, where his obsession goes straight to monsters-as-food.

Monsterfuckers, meanwhile wish to become close to the monster in a non destructive way (or at least a typically less destructive one, usually the only casualties are furniture and few bandages are needed, but I'll acknowledge that exceptions definitely exist). They wish to bond with it, to connect to it through lust or intimacy, to be able to stand at its side. They wish, on some level, to join it. Side note, I'm not saying this is true of all teratophiles, some are just kinky and driven by the thought of positive physical pleasure, or who find the personality of a given monster appealing, but I do think the apoteratotic desire is an underlying driver for many, I'd guess well more than half, it's just a subtle enough thing that I don't think most are consciously aware of it.

There's also a third point to the secret apoteratosis triangle that might surprise you: the monster slayer. Sure many, even most, slayers are driven by something like disgust or xenophobia or even rationality, but a significant minority land in the "if you can't join 'em, beat 'em" a.k.a. "I can't be you, so I'll destroy you" camp.

And these three reactions are, I notice, the three most common reactions that people have to one thing: the unattainable desire. The sentence begins "I cannot have it..." and these three camps end it different ways.

The teratophages say "so I shall dominate it." They seek what power they can grasp so they can have some modicum of control, so they can try to "have" it anyway. The kaiju corpse scavengers in Pacific Rim including refined and suave mob boss types just smacks of this attitude.

The teratophiles say "so I'll get as close as I can." There's a werewolf romance book where they're considering trying to turn the girlfriend, though they have no idea if she'll survive it (boyfriend was turned by accident then abandoned, so he's clueless, and they haven't found any others to teach them), and she says that she's fine remaining human, because she shares the power through him. "I have it, because you have it." The façade eventually breaks and in a vulnerable moment she confesses that she'd be willing to risk even a likely death to try to be turned. When they get in contact with an elder who can turn her safely she doesn't even wait a week.

The teratophobes write that whole sentence as "if I can't have it, then no one can." I'm sure everyone has seen enough examples of this behavior to understand that it's just a kind of love turned corrupt.

I'm not the first to notice the underlying apoteratotic urge: the aforementioned werewolf story, indeed many werewolf and vampire stories romanticize the transformation of a human into a monster. Back to Dungeon Meshi, author Ryōko Kui is fully aware of it with how Laios's underlying desire is eventually brought out of the subtext and explicitly named as his dysphoria with humanity, and his wishing that he could be a monster. For Laios that desire skipped right past the socially unacceptable monsterfucking, explicitly a form of bestiality in that world, to the socially acceptable devouring, though tempered by his respect and admiration of monsters into a desire for symbiosis with them. He cannot become one in truth (or so he thought when younger) but he could become part of their food web. It's as close as he thought he could get. Of course, that's the Watsonian explanation; the Doylist explanation is that Ryōko Kui wanted to subvert expectations, and also wanted to explore this angle of it.

So, all taken together, I think people read Laios as monsterfucker coded simply because teratophiles, teratophages, and teratophobes all share the same root motivation: apoteratosis. Thus, all three branches are coded very similarly.

It's similar to something I've seen in Batman fandom: some fans project romantic love between various members of the Batfamily, which is both wildly against canon and thoroughly hated by some other branches of fandom. But it is understandable, since familial love and romantic love both come from the same root, love of another. If someone doesn't recognize the simultaneous similarities and distinctions, it's all to easy to conflate them. If you don't actually understand the distinction, then the signs of affection between siblings might look the same as the signs of affection between lovers. Likewise, if you don't understand the distinction, the urge of the monster devourers (or ecologists) might look the same as the urge of the monster fucker.

I've sat on this for near a month, partially because of my repeated absences, partially because I wanted to honor it with an equally in-depth response. But 24 days later I've still got nothing, while I can't speak for that particular person I think in general you hit the nail right on the head for the base roots. I got no notes. Even with Laios...like all I can add is how supplemental materials actually confirm he did want to be a monster researcher but found books too dry, the only one who seemed to really *get* monsters was shunned. and how wild he goes when talking with an actual werewolf, "The existence I thought unobtainable is now right in front of me".

#even that last part. like as someone who got married only for us to realize that we may have the wrong kind of love #then broke up but stayed good friends and roommates but throughly not attracted to each other.#yeeeeeeah.#not tournament #answers

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squishycheekanon · 3 months

Text

Limerence | Three

C H A P T E R T H R E E

limerence / lim-ê-rêns / (noun)

“Obsessive romantic attraction towards another person”

Summary: In which the owners of Jujutsu Incorporated, the Ôgami brothers, are suddenly interested in you.

Pairing: Alpha!Sukuna x reader, Alpha!Itadori x reader, Alpha!Gojo x reader, Alpha!Geto x reader, Alpha!Nanami x reader, Alpha!Kenjaku x reader

Status: Ongoing.

Genre: werewolf au, soulmate, polyamory relationship, angst, fluff, omegaverse, a/b/o dynamics.

Warnings: smut, violence, mentions of knotting, heats, ruts, insecurities, some descriptions of reader’s body, mention of possible ED, omegaspace, domdrop, swearing, blood, depression, suicidal thoughts, possessiveness, obsessive thoughts, Alpha tendencies.

Chapter Warnings: Omega’s being abused and killed, swearing, scent description, size difference - I’m not sorry Kenjaku is the biggest Alpha here and I’m not willing to argue about it, dark themes, Kenjaku kills someone but what else is new, self deprecation, anxiety attack, pup - yes that’s a warning.

Masterlist | Chapter two | Chapter four

Taglist: @better-imagination-9 @tiredjuniper @jjkz @honeybeeboobaa @cherryblossomdelusion @dependsonthedream @alluresenses @qardasngan @imcamboaf @ondragonhonour @misscaller06

Taglist is open.

————————————————————————

Previously on Limerence:

“I can’t do this!” You screeched hands gripping at your hair in frustration, “why would I of all people be gifted six alphas?!” You cried desperately wanting to know the answer. Gifted. He guesses that’s a good sign, at least you thought of a mate as a gift rather than a curse.

You blink up at both men and realise, your living room has never looked so small, they take up so much space. With just two of them the place is tiny, how’s it going to look with six of them? Your mind bounces around, worry still present and spinning you into a tizzy, yet you practically preen when Kenjaku’s eyes travel over you like he can see underneath your clothes. It makes a tense feeling in the pit of your stomach start to form, a feeling you’re not familiar with.

You suddenly wanted to be wrapped in their strong arms, you note that they both look like the warriors the news makes them out to be. Huge, brawny and very attractive. How were they yours? How were you worthy of this? And how were they going to ever love you when they find out what you did?

The world had changed a lot since 2013, the year werewolfs came into existence. Before they were just made up, thought to only exist in really bad movies paired with an emotionless vampire, that or Reddit forums.

Mass panic ensued with the werewolf epidemic but the world did what it had to and adapted. Around nine months later, Alphas began presenting. And the whole world literally went to shit. Going from humans to werewolves was one thing, everyone’s DNA literally changing yet people adapted. The world was still in the early stages of adaptation when suddenly men’s personalities, needs, desires, the way they think, eat, sleep. All of it, changed by becoming Alphas.

Their instincts were out of control. Being confused and unable to understand what was happening to them. However, trying their best, they continued to live their lives as usual. And as if it was a series of cruel tricks, the last trick was played on mankind, omegas began presenting. Once again things changed.

It had the Alphas going crazy. Omegas were pushed into heats the longer they spent around undated Alphas in an attempt to push out their pheromones so their mates could find them. This only made things worse. Dazed and delusional Omegas coming onto Alphas were beaten black and blue, some were killed. The Alpha’s inner wolves becoming angered by an Omega who wasn’t their mate trying to breed with them, this was left unchecked for far too long until Kento created Jujutsu Incorporated in 2017.

Kento remembers the exact moment he decided he was going to do something about the destruction that had befallen the world. The news was playing on the television, he and his brothers watching intensely as the news anchor reported that in the last week twenty seven Omegas had been abused and fourteen had been killed by unhinged Alphas. Kento ignored the jagged inhale from one of the pink haired men on the other sofa watching too, instead he got up and headed straight to his study. The idea had come to him and he had to write it down, he had to plan.

The company’s main purpose was to train Alphas to hone their werewolf instincts and abilities. For man to create a peaceful bond with beast in order to control them so the abuse of Omegas would be stopped. At first it was only worried parents sending their newly presented aggressive sons to the training compound thinking it was some sort of correctional facility and in a way it was.

Soon grown men decided signing up, then men who had committed crimes against Omegas were court sanctioned to go. Before long it became mandatory for every male who was of age to be sent there and trained. Now every year when Alphas present they are instantly signed up to be sent to Jujutsu Incorporated.

Seven years, fifty two awards, millions given by governments all over the world and some failed attempts from other companies to try and recreate what they made, later, Jujutsu Incorporated saved the world and they are thanked everyday for it.

While Sukuna and Kenjaku tried to calm you down and reason with you to meet the rest of the pack. Kento, Yuji, Suguru and Satoru were slowly, but surely, loosing it. The longer they were away from their mate after the bond snapped into place, the more aggressive they became. Their body temperatures rising, all their sweet scents turning sour as the stress increased.

Since Kento caught a whiff of your sweet vanilla-cinnamon scent on Sukuna’s clothes, he couldn’t get the sweet smell out of his head. He’d give anything to bury his face in it. It would be so much better than the awful smells surrounding him at this very moment. Baring in mind that on a good day Kento’s scent was usually the sweetest chocolate fudge cake, but with the growing need to have his mate with him not being sated, it had spiked to a burnt over cooked type smell. Yuji’s went from honeyed strawberry milk to wet dog. Suguru’s went from a delightful caramel coffee to rotten food. Satoru’s went from freshly baked cookies to sewers on a hot day.

The office reeked.

Kento felt the tension in the room, worry crawling up his throat as he had the realisation he might have to scruff one or two of his pack mates if they don’t calm down soon. There are several ways that pack alphas can control their packmates, with pheromones is one of them, but scruffing is easily the most effective. Scruffing is distinctly pack alpha behavior. The inherent dominance in one alphas pheromones over another is essential for a pack alpha.

He remembers growing up he was never really the leader type, instead he was rather shy and withdrawn. He didn’t have many friends nor did he wish to make any, much preferring to be alone with a good book. Kento became even more withdrawn when his father died of a heart attack. It was a shock to the system and instead of the brothers banding together to help one another grieve they all mourned alone.

When Kento made the change into a werewolf he loved it, becoming a werewolf only amplified who he already was yet somehow when he discovered his role as packleader he stepped into it like he was born to lead. Kento figured out his role in the pack when Yuji and Satoru were scrapping each other and it got a bit too violent. Without meaning to he used his Alpha tone on the boys and they instantly stopped to obey him. It was strange, the brothers tried to use their own Alpha tones on each other though the experiment had no results. Only Kento could do it.

Another reason Kento loved being a werewolf was that it brought his broken family back together as one. As a pack. They lived together, ate together, trained together, shifted together and ran together as one. It gave him a profound sense of love and happiness that he was able to have his brothers back in his life, though there was always something missing. You.

Kento had to pacify his desire to run out of the room straight to you. He was sick of waiting. His wolf just wanted to bring you to their house and give you everything you could ever want. You would never need to leave the nest he would lovingly watch you build. You would be provided for, protected, and sated, all while you’d have prettiest smile on your face. His wolf chirped happily simply thinking about being in your presence and caring for you. He was eager for you to be here with him.

And as if by magic, the office doors opened Sukuna strolling inside with a shit eating grin on his face, Kenjaku not far behind with the cutest little omega clinging onto the sleeve of his arm. You were here.

It wasn’t the sweet the way you were basically hiding behind his brother that disarmed him, it wasn’t even the way your pretty wide eyes stared up at him with a spec of fear shining in them. But smelling you in person, fuck, breathing in your invigorating scent the way he needed to, letting it swirl around him and leave him feeling hazy and high, all his thoughts disappearing. It was like nothing he’d ever experienced before.

You do have to admit it was a rash decision to come here and meet the rest of the pack, it took a lot of convincing and encouragement by Sukuna and Kenjaku before you hesitantly said yes. And it was very hesitantly. The whole car ride there was silent, Kenjaku sitting in the back with you as Sukuna drove to Jujutsu Incorporated Headquarters. Subconsciously your omega was drifting towards the stoic black haired Alpha. Your Omega knowing that Kenjaku’s wolf was the scariest one out of the two just meant he was the best to protect you. His dominant aura was something you definitely didn’t want to mess with. So when you arrived and you were unsure wether you wanted to get out the car or not, all he had to do was offer his hand and send you a look and you were scrambling out of the car quickly grabbing onto him. He looked down at you letting out a grunt of disapproval when you let go of his large hand but seemed satisfied when you gripped onto the sleeve of his black leather jacket instead. You found yourself looking up at the big Alpha for his approval before you could stop yourself, even when you shook your head at yourself and looked away it was too late. Kenjaku had already grunted out a good pup that made butterflies erupt in your stomach.

The praise had you holding onto his jacket the whole walk to the elevator, the whole elevator ride and all the way into the office where you now stood trying to use Kenjaku’s big muscular body to hide from the four new pairs of eyes trying to catch a glimpse of you.

The fact that you, such a fragile small thing compared to him, was using him as a shield instead of running scared from him was baffling. Kenjaku was never a very nice guy, even as a child he was dubbed as the emo kid who you should never approach. Always getting into fights at school and that was before his father died, Kenjaku only go worse when he did.

And when Kenjaku became a werewolf he was even more violent than before, his vicious tendencies heightened along with his senses. He remembers all the bar fights, forest fights, street fights he go into finding a thrill within the rage. The night more vivid than all the fights though, was the night he killed another Alpha. And liked it.

It had been an accident, the man had started a fight with him and he was clearly drunk. Sober Kenjaku had only tried to defend himself but after pushing the drunken werewolf away he kept going, it snapped something in Kenjaku and he saw red. He beat the man to death and his wolf glowed with pride, the primal instinct to be the top Alpha male coming to light. He didn’t want to like it, but he did. That night he had buried the man in the forest with his bare hand, hours later he returned home caked in dirt, blood and sweat. He confessed to his brothers what he had done.

From then on he trained with Sukuna who taught him control over his wolf and his aggressive side, spending years dedicated to learning to control himself, still Kenjaku is easily the scariest and strongest Alpha in the pack. That’s why he was made The Ghost, The Shadow, The man behind the scenes who takes care of troubled Alphas. Also taking care of any crimes or accusations against the company.

The Killer Alpha. And you were choosing him to cling to, to protect you, this had his chest puffing out with pride. The little Omega and the big bad Alpha.

You were completely stuck to Kenjaku’s side as you started to let your anxiety turn your mind against you. These men were your mates? They all wanted you? Impossible. You couldn’t do this. Fuck sake, you had taken a big step coming here and you were just back to where you had started an hour ago. A numb feeling taking over you, your brain’s way of saving you from the stress of this situation.

The big man you were clinging to was towering over you with worried eyes as your short panicked breaths filled the room. “Princess?”

“Is she okay?”

“Are you okay?”

“Bunny you good?”

You were clearly having a moment of panic, not answering any of them. Their questions making you more antsy by the second. Everything felt like it was upside down at this very moment in time. Like the world was spinning.

Your other hand came up to grip onto Kenjaku’s jacket, desperately trying to use it to ground yourself. “Fuck I-“ you shivered, stumbling over your words as your couldn’t breathe properly.

“What is it pup? Hmm, what do you need princess?” Kenjaku remembered your reaction to the pet name from earlier instantly stepping into roll as the Alpha you needed surprising his brothers though they all knew with you around now, they’d be displaying sides of themselves they’ve never seen of each other before.

“I-I can’t,” you shook your head falling to your knees, Kenjaku fell with you holding you up, “I. I c-can’t, I can’t, I can’t do this.” You hiccuped at the end of your broken sentence, your fingers gripping so tightly onto the Alpha while your whole body shook.

“I know.” His words had your head shooting up, tear filled eyes meeting his, “but I’m going help you. If this is too much, then we will only do what you’re comfortable with. We just want to make you happy pup.” His body made him say the words, and he was glad it did. You were nodding as you listened, eyes focusing on every detail on his face while he spoke, his brown almond shaped eyes, sloped nose, the light freckles under his eyes, his plump lips.

“I don’t know how.” There was a hidden meaning behind it and all six alphas desperately wanted to know but they knew now was not the time. They could wait. Right now they had to focus on calming you down, getting you to relax.

Kenjaku felt his heart ache at the sight of your wobbly bottom lip all jutted out, you tear filled eyes and red face. You were so precious. Then and there he swore to protect you at all costs, even if he had to sell his soul, as long as you were safe. That’s all that mattered to him. “It’s okay pup, I’ll show you how.”

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hitlikehammers · 2 months

Text

seven across

rating: t ♥️ cw: established relationship, SUCH FLUFF ♥️ tags: marriage proposals, crossword puzzles, slice of life, softness

for @steddielovemonth day twenty-seven: Love is watching them do the stupidest things and falling harder for them every time (anon) + Love is just a four-letter word (@sal-si-puedes)

@pearynice said both of these prompts could be together and I said...let's try! ♥️

“Thing I want to be for you every single moment always, past the day I fucking die.”

They’re not, like, particularly serious about the crossword in the newspaper. As in, they don’t spend all morning on it, they don’t judge the tenor of their whole day based not on whether they finish it, but instead how fast they finish it, they absolutely do not do it in pen—

Basically, they’re not Nancy about it; but they do have fun with it. It’s just a quirky little…nerd thing they share before their coffees are done, before they kiss at their car doors and leave for work, or like this, on the weekends: before they start another pot of coffee and kiss about the clues they couldn’t figure out while it brews.

“Head,” Steve answers, off-handed, looking down his nose with his glasses perched low as he reads the middle section of the paper, something about stocks…probably.

“There’s no indicator,” Eddie snorts at Steve’s response, shakes his head but doesn’t bother to smother his grin; “it’s not what I want to give you every single moment.”

“So you agree you do want that, though,” Steve peeks up so sly, so teasing, so fucking gorgeous it hitches in Eddie’s chest when he so much thinks about it, about him, about his Steve—let alone when he’s face-to-face with the genuine article, grinning in all his glory.

“Was that in question?” Eddie recovers, but he knows his tone’s a little lovesick, knows his smile’s a little dopey for feeling, but this man.

Just; this man.

“Love,” Steve grins around a sip of his coffee, glances down at the crossword in front of Eddie to indicate another guess but his eyes sparkle in that way of his, just so, and Eddie knows it’s…not just a guess.

“Again,” Eddie huffs but can’t help the way a smile stretches wide enough to strain, to ache in his cheeks in the best possible way: “not a thing I give,” and he lets the hand not holding the pencil reach for Steve’s, which is waiting for him, grabs when Eddie’s close and laces thiner fingers together so Eddie can squeeze tight as he breathes out:

“But also never in question.”

Steve’s reading again, so it takes Eddie a little by surprise when his hand’s been lifted, and then pressed to Steve’s mouth with a kiss and when he looks up Steve’s already staring at him, the look there so fucking tender.

“I meant it was a noun,” Steve says so softly, his tone tender, too; “you are what love means to me.”

And Eddie’s pulse does a little double-skip for that because Steve can say those things forever, and it’s won’t ever stop fluttering around in Eddie’s chest like something miraculous.

In fact, Eddie really hopes Steve will say it forever.

“Sap,” he tries to volley back but it mostly comes out sappy, and a little too choked to be anything but a fucking compliment.

“Just honest,” Steve shrugs, smiling soft and playing with Eddie’s fingers before setting them back on the table, but not letting go as he gives another guess a try:

“Home.”

“Also not in question,” Eddie sighs a little…fuck, yeah, a little dreamily before tacking on: “you’re all I need, to know that I’m home.”

And it’s true. It’s so fucking true.

Eddie’s floating on the truth of it, and the fact that he gets to live that truth like this, and he’ll blame that as more than good enough reason to miss how Steve scoots his chair closer and leans over his shoulder to look at the paper he’s writing on.

“That’s more than four letters.”

Yep: Eddie will absolutely blame the high of just…being with Steve, of loving like this, for distracting him from the whole fucking pointof the conversation.

“Oh, I, umm,” Eddie fumbles a little, flustered where he really shouldn’t be, this was actually kind of the plan and he reminds himself of that sternly before he chuckles, and it’s only a little forced to get his footing back: “forgot to say we were past those.”

He looks up at Steve thought his lashes, honestly a bit sheepish and yes, he does bask in Steve’s endeared eyeball, in his indulgent smile before he takes another sip of his coffee, and Eddie thinks he’s in the clear when Steve asks:

“What’s the real clue?” Because they do this, they play with the clues more than they probably don’t when the answer’s obvious, because this is something they do together, and if whichever of them’s manning the writing utensil knows what to write in and they just move onto the next, that cuts down the fun, the soft moments they get to have like this.

And Eddie wouldn’t fucking trade this for…for anything.

“Umm,” Eddie draws out, not just the keep the moment but also because woah, wait: Steve’s putting his mug down and he’s leaning in and that’s not how this goes, nope, not even a little, hold the fuck on—

Also Eddie is supposed to be composed for this, because it’s important, it’s so fucking important, and when Steve’s pressed up against him like this, soft and casual in the mornings together, Eddie cannot be expected to focus, or else: not to focus on anything but the blissful warmth of Steve’s body against him like it belongs, because it belongs, and—

“Wait,” Steve’s nose scrunches, fucking delicious but he’s very close, and he’s reading over Eddie’s shoulder and…okay, okay, this was part of the plan, he just didn’t expect it so fast, or maybe he just didn’t expect the way his mouth’s all dry and his throat’s all tight, and his heart’s beating so goddamn hard but none of it’s like it’s nerves exactly, or maybe not mostly nerves, because mostly it’s just Steve, being near, and something like…excitement, but still:

Still: some of it’s nerves.

“This one’s wrong, babe,” Steve points to one of the verticals feeding down into the number they’re working on: Eddie hadn’t asked about it, and Steve’s frowning maybe for that reason first, before he notices…it’s not even close.

Because none of these were really supposed to match the clues; that wasn’t the point.

And Eddie watches, while Steve reads the other lines that feed into the not-four-letters he had asked after, the actually-seven-letters he’d asked Steve to give to him with a very specific clue, and Eddie’s breath catches when Steve turns to him, eyes big and swimming with questions as he exhales so so soft:

“Eddie?”

Because Eddie’d filled in some of the word, with the wrong-other-words.

It’s…not hard to guess when you see it:

_ U _ B A _ D

And Steve’s breath catches too, then, because, well: with Eddie’s clue, it’s kinda…it’s kinda really easy:

Thing I want to be for you every single moment always, past the day I fucking die.

Steve’s lips part, and his eyes get shiny, shimmery, and Eddie swallows, grabs Steve’s hand and moves the edge of a plate that’s been hiding a ring, breathes in the little gasp Steve give when he sees it like nectar to the gods but sweet, more life-giving than even that, and Eddie trembles a little as he holds it out and meets Steve’s gaze: the tears as slow to fall down Steve’s cheeks, and Eddie knows his are no better, and he means to ask immediately but…Steve is so fucking beautiful, and Eddie’s just a man, y’know?

He cannot help but to stare, and savor, and soak in this moment and this image, to etch it in his memory and call it perfection, and marvel at how it’s been his all this time but then…how Steve’s glowing and his lips are quirked the slightest bit and he’s, he’s…

Eddie opens his mouth to ask, he really does, but Steve’s letting go of his hand and reaching to frame Eddie’s face, and then he’s pulling Eddie to him, practiced and sure and Eddie leans because he knows exactly where he fits, always, and, like, maybe the question’s not even necessary.

Maybe Steve's lips are an answer in themselves.

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690

♥️

divider credit here

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #fluff #established relationship #established steddie #marriage proposal #domestic fluff #or rather more: domestic LOVE #idiots in love #slice of life #crossword puzzles #criminal levels of softness #steddielovemonth #love is watching them do the stupidest things and falling harder for them every time #love is just a four-letter word #stranger things

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danyvhell-writes · 11 months

Text

General Ais headcanons (Touchstarved)

GN reader | The obsession with this game is real guys :') I can't get away

─────

• Cat boyfriend like, bro will fall asleep on you (your chest, lap...) but if you dare to move just a little tiny bit the magic is over ! He will wake up instantly and go somewhere else to take a nap :')

• He's not gonna tell you but he likes when you touch his hair. Caress him, touch his horns, ruffle his hair even ! He's down for it and the moment you discover his little secret he'll give you endless opportunities to do so

• ↑ Scratch his head, please. Weak spot is right at the junction of his back horns, tug softly on his hair and the boy will melt.

• Ais is a man of few words but he really enjoys talking with you. Most of the time he'll annoy you just as an excuse to interact with you so you can start talking with him (and 99% of the time it works). He finds your little conversations entertaining and relaxing somehow.

• Btw, this guy will listen to you rambling. Talk about your latest obsession, stuff you like, things that seem unimportant : he will listen. He's curious to know more and especially if it's related to your fascinating person. Sometimes he'll just sit next to you and lean in your space just to have a better hearing of what you're saying. It might feel like you're monopolising the conversation but no no, he'll respond with snarky comments, laugh if you say something funny or ask you to keep going with your story. And also, he really likes your voice so...

• You remember when he said "I got eyes in the back of my head." ? (something like that) Well yeah ! His eyes are on you, always. His gaze will follow you wherever you are, with or without him. I'm sure this man uses the Groupmind to spy on MC ! Like bro come on, stop crushing this hard.

• If you have pets, they're not yours anymore. He WILL adopt them. Could be any animal or magic creature really, he will offer them absolute love in just two seconds. "Oh, this is my cat ! Her name's Nori, you can pet her if you want, she's super friendly." *pets her* "Oh yes you are !" *lifts her up so he can take her in his arms like a baby* "Look at you, you're gorgeous. Such pretty eyes, cute little face, kitty kitty~ !"

• He loves seeing you close to his soulless but he's also a tiny bit jealous to see that you sometimes prefer Princess' company rather than his. He'd be like "Uh hello I can do tricks too if that's what you like ??"

• He likes tea. That's it. That's the headcanon. No more seriously... I feel like he could be a tea amateur and genuinely enjoys a good cup of tea. If you don't know alot about it, he'll teach you the different types, how to infuse them correctly, what dishes you can pair them up with ! Want to learn how to make a real exquisite matcha tea ? He'll show you with much pride !

• ↑ Chit chat with him around some tea he made and he's yours. Bonus point if you ask for more. Extra bonus point if you're able to guess which tea it is.

• Has a special cup he keeps just for you when you visit him. He remembers your favourite drink and makes sure to always have a bottle/the ingredients when you come.

• If Ais is an oni, he might be japanese, so, this man speaks japanese. Most people think that because of his appearance he'd be super rude but oh no no no, the boy is polite. People assume he'd use 'ore' but nah ah, full 'watashi' user over here. You know that thing when your voice and demeanor changes a little when you switch languages ? That's him. His voice tends to go softer when he speaks japanese, he doesn't even realize.

• We know he likes learning about new languages, teach him some stuff. Of course he'll remember the curse words & insults quickly but pet names and romantic nouns are his favourites. If you're polyglot, show off a little, he likes it. Talk in your native tongue, even if he doesn't get anything at first, he will crush even harder. "Eh t'savais que les girafes avaient le même nombre de vertèbres que nous ? C'est juste qu'elles sont plus longues. C'est ouf ça !" "You make French sound so attractive and I'm sure you're not even saying anything particularly sexy..." "Yep !" "God, I want them so bad." he thinks

• After some time, you'd both start to naturally use words or phrases you've taught each other/you've heard from each other. He'd flex on you just to show how much of a fast learner he is, he wants to see you proud of him.

• Cracks his joints. A lot. Also stretches a lot.

• That guy who asks you to pull on his arms or whatever to help him stretch as hard as possible. "More." "What do you mean more ? I'm gonna break your bones !" "I said more, I"m not fragile you know." until you hear a big 'pop' and he sighs with contentment.

• If you burp in front of him, he'll make it a competition. "You think this is a big one ? Oh sparrow... you're a little player." And then proceeds to traumatize you for the next decade. "Do you have the fucking devil in you ???" "Nope, just my friend Ocudeus. He's gross, I know >:)"

• Traces small patterns along your skin when he's bored. He's really gentle when it comes to touching you.

• That type of guy who's obsessed with your hair, especially if it has a different texture than his. You could be doing anything and this bastard (affectionate) will twirl your hair, put clips in it, try hairstyles if you let him. He'll let you do the same to him if you want ! Go on, have fun with your new doll lmao

• Give him the silliest clothes and accessories, he will wear them. The bimboest crop top ? Yeah cool. Bat hair clips ? Cute.

• Would joke about eating you to scare you but strangely you're always the one ending up biting him ! (not that he minds)

• 100% asks you if you want to fight. Like not in a threatening way but to test you out, he wants to see if you can handle a little sparring.

• If you're someone who enjoys working out, he proposes to train with you. It sometimes follows to some sparring which might end up with you guys kissing... weird uh

• Has a particularly good memory. He remembers things that even yourself forgot, like really he’s your second brain (and often you’re glad). Everytime you’re asking him “How do you even remember that tf ??” and he’s just “Don’t know 🤷🏻‍♂️“

• You're the type of person who calls any guy 'bro' ? No prob, he finds it funny. He's not offended in the slightest and even actually likes it, he knows it's a language tic. Would definitely send you this type of dumb shit ouezghfoez 😭

• He can be a little chaotic sometimes but you like it. After all he’s a demon, he likes joking and pranking so even better if you join him in his mischievous activities hehe. You guys would do the silliest stuff and try not to burst out laughing. Evil ones, evil.

• Does that cute thing where he leans in close to you when you’re watching something and follows your gaze. He’s just a curious lil guy !

#touchstarved game #ais #touchstarved #touchstarved ais #ais x reader #gn reader #headcanons #touchstarved headcanons #touchstarved demo #red spring studios #i wrote more than what i planned but hey it's fun #i'm obsessed #like fr it's not a joke i'm so gay for him #please request some hcs i'm dying guys !!!#there's so much in my little head for the love interests my brain's gonna implode #my hcs

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borathae · 12 days

Text

↳ Index [Chapter 01 - Besuch]

• Besuch (German; noun: visit)

Focus on Pairing: Taehyung x f.Reader

Warnings: so many fluffy sweet moments, talks about polyamory & sexuality, Tae suffers from PTSD, but he gets so much comfort, Yoongi is a nervous cutie, Jungkook is so sweet <3

Wordcount: 14.5k

a/n: OMFG BESTIES WE'RE FINALLY BACK IN BUSINESS! I'M SO HAPPY TO BE BACK WITH A LIL STORY FOR YOU GAAAH 💙

“Okay. Are you ready?”

“I am.”

“Me too.”

“Where’s Yoongi?”

“He said that he’ll be here soon.”

“I could call him.”

The door opens.

“I’m sorry I’m late, I couldn’t get the button to close”, Yoongi says, running to get to you and the others. You are busy closing the safety circle while the others are waiting on your floor surrounded by your travel bags.

“Why are you dressed like this?” Taehyung asks, following Yoongi with his eyes.

Yoongi looks down at his own body. He is wearing a black suit with a small white boutonniere in his front pocket.

“What’s wrong with my outfit?” he asks with a pout, “you’re wearing a suit too.”

Taehyung, dressed in an emerald green suit, shrugs his shoulders.

“It is just that these are my normal clothes, but you look as if you stumbled out of the wrong movie.”

“Why? What’s wrong with my clothes?” Yoongi whines, “I’m meeting her grandma. Can’t I dress up for that?”

You and the others laugh fondly.

“Stop laughing, you brats”, he hisses, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“I’m just laughing because you’re so cute, my love”, you tell him, sitting down cross legged and patting the spot next to you, “sit down.”

Yoongi follows, tugging and pulling at his clothes insecurely. He can’t even look at your eyes because he feels so insecure in them all of a sudden.

You lean in and give him a smooch on his cheek, “you look so handsome.”

Yoongi blushes, “thanks”, he mumbles.

“I also think that you’re handsome, hyungie”, Jungkook says. He is dressed in a fancy shirt and slacks and has his hair in a neat half-updo.

“Thanks”, Yoongi says.

“I still think that you look peculiar”, Taehyung teases.

“Tae, stop that”, you say, hitting his leg gently.

“Fine. I won’t say anything again”, Taehyung gives up and snickers.

“You’re a brat”, Yoongi says.

“Can we start now?” you ask, looking between him and Taehyung fondly.

“Yes, of course”, Taehyung says and takes your hand. Next he takes Jungkook’s hand, holding it tightly.

“I guess. It’s so mean, I dressed up for the occasion and I get made fun of”, Yoongi murmurs with a pout as he takes your and Jungkook’s hands.

“I wasn’t making fun-”

“Hush, you guys. Focus. I need to channel your powers and I can’t concentrate when you talk”, you stop them in a chuckle.

The two bickering vampires stop, looking at you with the most innocent of eyes.

“Now”, you begin, “close your eyes and relax. It’ll tingle a little.”

The next time you open your eyes again, the scent of pine and wild herbs tickles your noses.

The ground beneath your feet crunches like small, angular stones. You run your eyes over your surroundings. Your lovers are beside you, looking around with awe in their eyes.

A high, dense forest surrounds you. The call of a blackbird echoes high above your heads and the humming of thousands of insects hangs in the air.

“Remarkable”, Taehyung gets out under his breath.

“Yeah right”, Jungkook whispers.

You find yourselves on a narrow gravel road. The road is just wide enough for one car and on the parts where no tires run along, high grasses and forest flowers grow. They tickle your legs as you stand in them. It is a nice sensation.

You know this road. Behind your backs, it leads into denser forests and high mountain paths. In front of your eyes, it will bring you to your grandmother’s house. You took this path a hundred times when you were younger. You will always find your way on it.

“Are we right here? Where are we? It looked different the last time we were here”, Jungkook asks.

“Yes, we’re right. It’s just not the back entrance”, you assure him, “come, follow me. I know the way”, you say and shoulder your bag, taking confident steps into the correct direction.

The three vampires lift their own bags and follow you with their eyes sparkling in awe. At least those of Taehyung and Jungkook, Yoongi’s eyes are glued to the ground.

“I can’t believe that you truly managed to get us here”, Taehyung says, following a squirrel with his eyes as it escapes through the trees, “a squirrel! Right above our heads!”

“Where?” Jungkook gasps.

“There. Right there”, Taehyung shows him and after some intense searching, Jungkook finally finds it.

“Wow a squirrel! So cute!” he exclaims in a terribly cute voice. He and Taehyung share giggles and hold hands, swinging them back and forth happily.

You hold hands with Yoongi, who has been worryingly quiet until now.

“My love?” you call his attention with a soft pull at his hand.

His head snaps to you, “mhm?” his eyes are widened.

“Are you okay? You’re really quiet.”

“I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?”

He nods his head, “nervous”, he confesses and looks away.

“You’re nervous?”

He nods his head, rubbing the side of his neck.

“I never really did the whole, uhm, meeting my partner’s family and stuff before. Uh, yeah, it’s new to me. Scary, uh, yeah.”

“Aww my love, don’t be nervous. My grandma will love you so much.”

“Yeah, uhm”, he lowers his head shyly.

“I’m serious, love. She told me that she saw glimpses of you in my memories and that she can see how well you treat me”, you assure him, hugging his arm, “don’t worry, she’ll look at you and see a kind, sweet and very loveable person. Yeah?”

He nods his head and glances at you. He squeezes your hand just once and leans in to kiss your cheek.

“Thank you”, he whispers.

“I’m only saying the truth”, you say and pull Jungkook and Taehyung closer by holding Taehyung’s hand, “as a matter of fact, she’ll love all of you. Oh, you guys”, you begin skipping in happiness, “I’m so, so happy to be back and to see my grandma again and to introduce her to you.”

“I’m really happy too. I can’t wait to see grandma again”, Jungkook says, watching you with sparkling eyes. You are so happy. He likes that you are.

“I am very excited as well, my darling. I cannot wait to try her raspberry pie.”

“Yes, god you really can’t”, you say and wiggle your shoulders, “it’s so, so yummy.”

Another squirrel scurries past you, crossing the narrow gravel road in small jumps. Jungkook giggles.

“It’s so cute.”

“It truly is”, Taehyung says, “however, I cannot find an explanation as to why there are animals and insects living here. Isn’t this a realm for the souls of deceased witches and warlocks? How come there is other form of life in this realm?”

You all look at Yoongi for an answer.

“What?”

“Why are there animals and insects here?”

“It’s just the way it is. I don’t know.”

“But didn’t Namjoon create this realm? Shouldn’t he have talked to you about his plans for it?”

“He did. I don’t know, it’s been too long. Maybe it’s because he loved plants and animals back then. I don’t know, sorry I’m nervous”, Yoongi says, ending his rant by exhaling loudly and blinking his eyes at you.

You give his hand an encouraging squeeze.

“It’s okay, love. Thank you for telling us.”

“Okay, okay I apologise for asking”, Taehyung says and reaches past you to caress Yoongi’s arm, “don’t be nervous, hyung. I am sure that you will be welcomed splendidly. If there is someone who should be nervous, it should be me.”

“Don’t say that, Tae. She’ll love you as well”, you insist.

“Yes, well”, Taehyung lets out a nervous chuckle, “she saw how wonderfully Yoongi treated you, so I am sure that she must have seen how awfully I acted.”

“Even if she did, that means she also saw how much you changed for the better. Don’t worry my darling, she will love you just as much as she’ll love Yoongi and Kookie.”

“Okay, okay”, Taehyung says and grins shyly, “thank you for saying this.”

You hug his arm against you and give it a little kiss.

“Of course, my sweetest”, you say and straighten up, “now let’s go. I can’t wait to see her again. Oh, I’m so happy. Do you guys think that she can feel that we are coming?”

“I am certain that she could sense it.”

“Yes, I get the feeling as well”, Jungkook assures you, while Yoongi is still lost in his nervous thoughts.

The walk to your grandmother’s cottage is a long one, but a terribly beautiful one. Being in nature is truly the best thing one can be. The long grasses and colourful flowers brush against your legs as you wander. The trees sway in the warm breeze and the sun shines through the canopy and makes light dance all around you.

“Did you know that there is a word in Japanese which describes the light shining through leaves?” Taehyung asks.

“No, I didn’t”, Jungkook says to which you agree with a shake of your head.

Yoongi seems to know already, because he doesn’t react. Or perhaps he is currently completely dissociated in nervousness. That would explain why he is staring into the distance with dazed eyes.

“Indeed there is”, Taehyung says, “komorebi. It is a beautiful word and I would say that it is rather fitting for such a beautiful view.”

“Yes”, you agree, letting your eyes follow the light. It is as if it was in a dance with the shadow, creating ever changing paintings, “yes I agree. Komorebi. I have to remember this word.”

“Thank you for telling us. I learned something new”, Jungkook says, painting great happiness onto Taehyung’s features.

The cottage is within reach. You can see the cozy house and the colourful, loved garden surrounding it. The rather unwelcome wooden stake fence doesn’t greet you this time around. A normal wooden fence stands in its stead. There are high wooden pillars on each side of the road and a wooden arch on which roses climb up and bloom. The gates are currently open, inviting you inside.

“It’s so peculiar not to see grandma’s staked fence”, you say.

“But it was there the last time we visited her, right?” Jungkook makes sure.

You nod your head, “it must be because we accidentally switched from my memories to this world. Remember? There were no stakes when we left the realm again, but because we were too preoccupied with our emotions, we didn’t really notice it.”

“Yes, right. Right, now that you mention it, I didn’t see any stakes when we left. So that means that we’re right, ___. You actually took us to the safe realm where no vampires are present.”

Jungkook breaks away from Taehyung and gets in front of you and the others. You all come to a stop. He steps closer and puts his hand on the chests of Taehyung and Yoongi. While Taehyung smiles at him, Yoongi seems to come back to reality with the touch. He blinks rapidly, gawking at Jungkook.

The latter smiles and bounces on the spot.

“You’re human”, he says, “you guys are human. We’re all human again”, he says and touches his own chest, “my pulse is back. Wow!”

Taehyung and Yoongi touch their chests and while Taehyung seems marvelled by it, Yoongi exhales shakily, blinking away the emotion in his eyes. He tightens his fingers around the fabric of his shirt, furrowing his brows.

“Oh how fascinating”, Taehyung gasps, looking at you, “darling, I can feel my heart beat.”

“I know”, you say, touching him gently, “I can feel it too, Tae.”

Taehyung smiles and places his hand over yours, pulling you closer this way, “sweetest”, he whispers and kisses you. It is a nice revelation that his first instinct upon being human again, is to kiss you. You kiss him back with a racing heart and in return, you can feel his heart race in his chest. Oh, how good it feels to kiss him.

By the time you pull back for air, you are just a little dizzy. He smiles at you, squeezing your hand gently. You retort his smile.

Jungkook’s giggles make both of you turn into his direction. He is giggling at Yoongi, while the latter is looking into Jungkook’s face. Their hands are on each other’s chests, feeling the other’s heartbeat.

“I can count the beats, hyungie”, Jungkook says, “your pulse is real.”

“Yeah, I know”, Yoongi answers him.

“It’s beating so fast.”

“Yeah, I know…”

You join their sides, caressing their arms.

Jungkook pulls you into a group hug instantly, smothering you between his body and Yoongi’s.

“Oh? Okay”, you accept your fate with giggles, which only grow when you can feel Taehyung join the group hug as well.

“We are human again”, Jungkook says and begins jumping in a circle. You join him soon even if Yoongi whines about it. It’s just way too exciting to be with each other.

“Honeybee!” someone calling your nickname breaks the group hug. The boys release you, watching with curious eyes as a couple seem to hurry to you. They are dressed in flowy summer clothes and seem to be in their forties. Jungkook is smiling, waving his hand.

“Grandma! Hello!” he calls out, but you can’t hear him anymore.

Your grandfather is next to your grandmother. Safe and sound. And alive. He is actually alive.

“Grandpa?!” you gasp, “you- oh”, you stop talking to instead run to them.

They welcome you with open arms, engulfing you in the kind of hug only loving grandparents can give. Despite promising yourself not to cry, you still do. You went so many years without them and to see both of them again, well and alive, overwhelms you in the best way possible.

“You’re alive! Grandpa, you’re alive!”

“Hello my little forest strider, how have you been?”

“Oh grandpa, I missed you so much”, you choke out and sob into his chest.

“Mhm, my girl”, he says and pulls you closer.

You break away after a few moments of emotional hugging, eyes switching between your grandparents’ faces.

“You guys are so young and, and you’re both here. I don’t understand. How can you be here?”

“This is a peaceful world. A good world. I am here because Agatha wanted me to be here.”

“And you are real? You are truly real?”

“I am”, your grandfather smiles and tugs your grandmother closer, “she just couldn’t say goodbye to me, could she?”

“How could I, Harald? I need to have someone I can annoy”, she jokes, which makes him laugh and kiss her cheek. She takes your hand afterwards, “there is a way to make sure that your loved ones will find peace in this world even if they aren’t born witches.”

“There is?”

“Yes, yes there is, but I will tell you later. My boys, welcome”, she says and turns to your three boys with open arms, “I’m Agatha, but you can call me grandma as well. Jungkook my dear, welcome back.”

“I’m so happy to be back, grandma”, he says, bowing his head.

She however tugs him into a hug, forcing a squeak out of him as he stumbles into her loving embrace. He is so much taller than her, lowering himself for her comfort.

“Welcome back, my boy. How have you been?”

“Good, really good. I missed you.”

They break the hug, but she keeps holding his hands.

“It’s so nice to have you back for a happy occasion”, she says to which he agrees with an enthusiastic nod.

Afterwards he turns to your grandfather, giving him a tight handshake.

“It is so nice to meet you. I’m Jungkook.”

“Agatha already told me a lot about you. It’s good to finally put a face to the stories”, he says and grabs his upper arm, “you’re a strong one. I can feel it. Are those tattoos?”

“Oh, uhm…” Jungkook blushes, “yes, I guess they are.”

“Aha, I see. How far up do they go?” he asks, trying to tug Jungkook’s shirt further up his arm.

Jungkook laughs nervously, glancing at you as a call for help. But before you can save him from your grandfather’s nosy, yet kindly meant, hands, your grandmother does.

“Harald, don’t be nosy. Dear god”, your grandmother swipes his hand away, turning her attention to Yoongi next.

“You must be Yoongi.”

“I am”, he croaks out, “sorry”, he says and bows deeply, clearing his throat as he does, “nice to meet you and thank you so much for housing us”, he says and bows at your grandfather as well.

“I’m happy to have you, my dear”, she says and gives his arm a soft caress.

“Agatha told me that you enjoy woodworking. I was a carpenter in my time”, your grandfather says and takes both his hands to inspect them, “mhm good worker hands. They don’t fit your face.”

“Uh? Thank you, yeah, uhm.”

Your grandmother rolls her eyes at him because he is being nosy again.

“___ told me that you were a carpenter. Yeah, uhm”, Yoongi pulls his hands out of your grandfather’s hold and scratches his own ear shyly, “I think woodworking is good. Yeah”, he mumbles and clears his throat again.

Your grandfather smiles. Yoongi is shy. Just as Agatha had told him.

Taehyung bows at both of your grandparents as well, “I am Taehyung. It is truly wonderful to finally meet the people who are so utterly important to ___.”

“We could say the same about you”, she says and studies him from head to toe. There is just the slightest, smallest, faintest mistrust in them.

“I, uhm”, Taehyung begins fumbling in his bag, “I have something for you”, he says and pulls out a box.

Your grandmother accepts it, opening it.

“Oh? Seeds?”

“Yes, indeed. They are seeds from our garden. ___ told me that she inherited her enjoyment for gardening from you and I thought that growing seeds from our garden in your own could be a special way to connect our families.”

Your grandmother exchanges a look with your grandfather. They smile, reaching out for a warm caress to Taehyung’s arms.

“Thank you, boy. We will cherish them.”

“This is such a wonderful gift, thank you my dear”, your grandmother says and points at the house, “come, I bet you must be really exhausted from the journey.”

“Not really. ___ did a really good job at sending us here”, Jungkook says and looks around, “it looks a lot nicer here than last time.”

“That’s because you entered this realm willingly and not accidentally. That is also why your heartbeats feel so real and why you can take bags with you. Because your bodies are actually here.”

“Woah, that’s wild to me. Did you know that, hyung?”

Yoongi shakes his head, “no, I’m sorry. I don’t know a lot about this world”, he murmurs shyly.

“I see. That’s okay, but you seem to know a lot, grandma.”

“Oh? Oh no”, she laughs, “I know enough to know that this world is safe, but that it will also be punishing to people who aren’t dead yet.”

“What do you mean? Are we in danger?”

“Only if you die in here. You will be lost forever, which is not a nice fate to have.”

“Oh god. You guys gotta be extra careful from now on. Okay?” you tell your three boys.

“We will, don’t worry”, Jungkook assures you to which the others agree.

“I’m sure nothing will happen”, your grandfather says and places his arm over your grandmother’s shoulder, “are you hungry? We were just about to start dinner when Agatha felt you enter this realm.”

“Dinner sounds lovely, Harald?” Taehyung says, “please forgive me if I got your name wrong.”

“You got it right. Name’s Harald, but you can call me grandpa if you want to.”

“It is lovely to meet you, Harald. ___ told me a great deal about you. You mean a lot to her.”

“Oh, she means more to me. My little girl, she’s my treasure.”

Taehyung feels warm in his chest. He loves to know that you have family who truly and honestly love you.

“We made raspberry pie as well”, your grandmother says.

“Yes, pie! I’m so ready to eat at least three slices!” you exclaim happily and take her hand, “grandma, can I have the recipe? I forgot to ask you last time, but I would really love to make it at home.”

“Of course, my honeybee. Do you have raspberry bushes at your home as well?”

“I do. Yoongi wants to teach me one day how I can make them grow like you make yours grow, but for now I have to learn better control.”

“Control is really important. I’m impressed that you managed to get all of you here unharmed.”

“I know. Oh god, grandma I was so nervous you have no idea.”

You take off your shoes by the front door. Your grandmother scurries off to prepare lemonade, while your grandfather leads you upstairs. He is carrying your bag because he insisted that it is a grandfather’s job to carry his grandchild’s bags.

“It’s so cozy here”, Jungkook says.

“Aye, cozy it is”, your grandfather says, leading you to your bedroom, “I built all of it myself. Not in this world, but the real one. The house was already there when I came here. Don’t ask me how it works, Agatha’s the one with magic, I’m just here to be her support.”

He makes you laugh with it. He smiles fondly, putting your bag on your bed.

“Two of you can sleep here. The rest can sleep in the guestroom. Ignore the mess on the desk. I use it as my hobby room when it’s just the two of us.”

“What do you enjoy as a hobby?” Taehyung asks, walking next to him. They are the same height, carrying themselves with good posture.

“I’m a collector of old weapons. Without the ammunition of course. I spend a lot of time cleaning and restoring old weapons.”

“Oh, that sounds wonderful. I have quite a few rare pieces in my own collection. I shall bring some of them with me next time we visit.”

“So you’re a collector too?”

“I am sure not as passionate as you, but my age automatically comes with many trinkets and pieces, which I find myself collecting.”

“I see, well anyways, that’s the guest room. Make yourselves comfortable”, he says and studies you, “however that will work. Do you pull cards to decide?”

“We prefer to decide spontaneously.”

“I see, well anyways, rest for a bit, get comfortable. I’m downstairs for now”, he says and turns to leave. He gives you a hug before he does, patting your head, “my girl.”

Once it is just the four of you, Taehyung speaks.

“I got the feeling that he wanted to ask more about our situation, but he didn’t know how.”

“Knowing my grandpa, he really did. Especially because I came back dating three men, who also date each other.”

“Mostly. Some are only acquaintances”, Yoongi corrects you, making Taehyung gasp dramatically.

“Acquaintances? Excuse me? Have we not spent enough centuries together to at least be friends?”

“I don’t know. You made fun of my outfit.”

“Oh, hyung you”, he nudges his arm, “you know that I was only jesting. You look very handsome.”

“Whatever”, Yoongi says and looks around the room awkwardly.

“Do you guys like it here?” you ask them.

“It’s so cozy. I like it a lot.”

“It also smells very good.”

“It does, gosh. And look, you can see the forest from here”, you say, hurrying to the small window.

Your three boys gather behind you, trying to get a glimpse.

“I spent a lot of time in this forest. I can’t believe that I get to walk in it again. We are gonna take walks in it, aren’t we?”

“Of course. I even packed my walking shoes for this occasion.”

“I’m so happy, you guys”, you say, following your grandmother with your eyes as she is hurrying through the garden to pick some mint, “I wanna go downstairs and help them.”

“We’ll come with you.”

You spent the rest of the day together, talking and laughing. You tell your grandparents everything which happened in the years they weren’t with you anymore and it felt so good to do because this time around, you know that you had no rush in speaking. Yoongi was with you again. Taehyung and Jungkook as well. Everything was well and you are allowed to waste time telling silly stories of your life. Your grandparents are so very happy to listen to every single one of them. And so you spent the day talking until the moon replaced the sun in the sky and the crickets sang their nightly songs.

Yoongi helped your grandmother with dinner. You could listen to them bond over food. They even exchanged recipes and chatted about bread making. It made you feel really good inside to hear how Yoongi talks to your grandmother. Respectful and in a soft spoken voice. He is such a gentle person.

You and your other two boys wanted to help as well, but then your grandfather dragged you into a game of cards. He was sure that he could win, because he always won when you were still a child, but soon had to realise that his little girl was all grown up now. It made him a little sad and so you let him win the next round, which made him tease you in the adoring way he always teased you when he won. It made you really happy. You missed the game of cards with your grandfather.

Dinner has been served by now. You sit around the table, sharing the food your grandmother and Yoongi prepared with utmost love. It tastes so good that everyone goes for a second serving. You even go for a third because the combination of Yoongi’s cooking and your grandmother’s cooking is quite frankly, the most delicious combination to ever exist. Two cuisines which taste like home mixed into one. Truly, food couldn’t get any better than this.

You talk about food for most of it. Soon your grandfather leads the conversation to a different topic however. It was during dessert when tea was shared with your grandmother’s raspberry pie. You feed a spoonful to Taehyung and then to Jungkook, doing so with giggles on your lips.

“Is it yummy?” you ask them.

“Really, I missed your pie so much”, Jungkook murmurs.

“It is so sweet and rich in flavours. I truly enjoy it”, Taehyung gushes.

“Well, thank you my dear”, your grandmother says with fondness in her eyes. She likes to know when people enjoy her food. Especially her pies. She is very proud of her pies. All the recipes are her creations and she takes great pride in them. She wipes down the counters with a happy smile on her lips, listening to the conversation.

You break off another piece of the pie and turn to Yoongi.

“Now you, my love”, you tell him.

Yoongi meets you in the middle with an open mouth. He takes the pie off your fork gently, meeting your eyes shyly.

“And?”

He chews and swallows, nodding his head.

“Mhm”, he lets out, “really good. How are you getting the raspberry flavors to stay so intense, Agatha?”

“I couldn’t tell you. I think my raspberries really like me. It’s how they taste naturally.”

“Mhm, I could have figured. As a nature witch, you have a talent for gardens.”

Your grandmother chuckles mischievously and that is the moment when your grandfather stirs the conversation into a different direction.

“___ my girl, now I must ask something.”

“Yes, grandpa?”

“Why are you all dating?”

“Harald, you can’t ask that out of nowhere”, your grandmother gasps, dropping the wipe on the counter to run to him and nudge his arm.

“It’s not out of nowhere. I really thought about it before I asked”, your grandfather defends himself.

“It doesn’t make it okay”, she throws back, but you assure her that it was alright to ask.

“I understand that it’s not really common to see, questions are allowed. Right, guys? Is it okay for you as well?”

“Of course. We are very open to answer your questions”, Taehyung says.

“I don’t have a lot of experience with polyamory, but I’m okay as well”, Jungkook says.

“Me too. I’ll try my best to answer”, Yoongi says, “I was honestly just waiting for you guys to ask us. I know it must be weird to see your granddaughter return with three men by her side.”

“Not weird just…uncommon.”

“Gosh Harald, stop being so negative.”

“What? I’m just saying. It must be uncommon for you too. I’m sure they know that it’s not something you see every day.”

“Harald!”

“It’s really okay, grandma. We know it’s not seen a lot. It would be weird if you weren’t confused.”

Agatha gives up with a sigh and sits down by her chair.

“Fine, okay. I admit that I’m a little curious as well.”

“What do you want to know? I don’t want you guys to have a bad idea of polyamory so I’m really open to all questions”, you say.

“What does it mean to be poly? Is that what you call the dating you are doing?”

“Yes, that’s the official name for it.”

“It sounds really stressful to me”, your grandfather says.

“It can be stressful if you don’t communicate and understand each other. If you talk and respect each other, it’s not stressful at all.”

“But how can you spend enough time with every person?”

“It’s easy for us because we live in the same estate, so sometimes we spend time by being in the same room.”

“I would also say that it really helps to make a schedule”, Taehyung says.

“A schedule?”

“Indeed. We sit down and make a plan of when someone wants to spend time with another. We plan dates, schedule holidays and decide on who wants to spend time with whom.”

“So you decide on special date days just for this one pairing? Are you even couples? How does it work?”

“Yes, we plan special couple days so nobody feels left out. Not all of us are dating however.”

“How can I understand that?”

“I’m dating Yoongi, Tae and Kook”, you say, “while Yoongi is only dating Kook and me.”

“I am dating ___, Yoongi and Tae”, Jungkook says, “but Tae only dates ___ and me.”

“So you and you”, your grandpa points at Yoongi and Taehyung respectively, “are just friends?”

“Indeed we are.”

“I guess.”

“But how does that work?”

“We aren’t interested in each other”, Yoongi says, “but we respect each other enough not to want to break up the polycule.”

“Indeed. We spend friendship time with each other, isn’t that so?”

“I guess”, Yoongi murmurs, avoiding Taehyung’s eye contact shyly.

“This is really mindboggling to me. All of it”, your grandfather says and looks at your grandma, “do you understand it, Agatha?”

“Oh Harald, why must you be so negative? If it makes our___ happy, then I understand everything I need to understand.”

“I wasn’t judging. I am just really confused. Don’t you get jealous or insecure?”

“Sometimes”, Taehyung says, “I think that jealousy can’t even be prevented in monogamous relationships and there are definitely more opportunities to get jealous in a polycule. Sometimes a person wants attention from someone, but the person they want affection from is busy with someone else. Jealousy or insecurities are unavoidable.”

“Exactly, sometimes you also feel as if your time spent with them is shorter than that of the others and you get jealous of that”, Jungkook agrees.

“Or as if you received less love than others, which can make you feel insecure”, Yoongi says.

“But the most important thing to remember is that jealousy is human and that it is important to talk about it. When one of us gets jealous or insecure, we sit down to talk and fix the issue together”, you say.

“It really helps because almost all of the time, the insecurities are gone after the conversation”, Taehyung says.

“And we realise that the jealousy was useless”, Jungkook says.

“I see. I might start to understand a thing or two. I thought that you never get jealous and found it unbelievable. It’s good to hear that jealousy happens, but that you talk about it”, your grandpa says and reaches out to caress your hand, “my girl, you have this from your grandmother. She always wants to talk about everything.”

“Talking about the issue is important. Otherwise it will linger and become an unwanted curse on your heart.”

“That is true, my darling witch”, your grandfather says and kisses her cheek.

She leans in with a mischievous giggle.

“Now one last question. You know me, I’m too nosy.”

“Yes?”

“Does it mean that intimacy is always together?”

“Harald, you are inappropriate”, Agatha says with a slap to his arm.

“I’m just saying. You know, the seventies were a wild time. Your grandmother and I have some experiences with org-”

“Harald!”

Your grandfather lifts his hands in defeat.

Your grandmother clicks her tongue, “crazy. Please don’t listen to him, he is being childish.”

Taehyung and Jungkook chuckle knowingly and exchange a boyish look with your grandfather.

“Do not worry. I find it very important to make sexuality a normal topic and to remove the negative stigma around it. Without sex, none of us would be here right now and intimacy can be a very important part to show affection to the people you love. So I believe that it is important to see sex as something positive and normal, instead of demonising it. Of course it is very important to keep such conversations age appropriate, but I see no evil in talking about it between adults”, Taehyung says.

“I agree, yes”, your grandfather says, “I don’t even want details, just a yes or no.”

“May I answer it?” Taehyung asks to which all of you consent to with a nod. So he looks at your grandfather and talks, “sometimes we share intimacy between more than two people, but most of the time, intimacy is shared between two people.”

“What about you and Yoongi?”

“We do not sleep with each other.”

“I see. Forgive me for asking.”

“Worry not. I hope that I could answer your questions.”

“You could”, your grandfather says and looks to the side. He seems just a little embarrassed to have asked such a question.

“Now I have a question as well”, your grandma says.

“Yes?”

“Does polyamory mean that you like men and women?”

“It can, but not always. There are also strictly same sex polycules or non binary polycules.”

“What does non binary mean?”

“Well, to put it very short. It means when you don’t identify as female or male. In a sense the person can identify as both or neither. This is the very short answer.”

“I see. And in your case it means that you are all attracted to men and women?”

“Yes, in my case it does. However I identify as queer. Gender isn’t important for my attraction to form, as I am drawn to the person and not their gender identity and I feel most comfortable in identifying as queer.”

“Gender doesn’t matter to me either, so I resonate most with being bisexual”, Jungkook says.

“I don’t do labels. I like who I like”, Yoongi says.

“I don’t know what I am. Sometimes I think about kissing a girl”, you confess, “I never told this before. Please don’t tell mom and dad, they don’t know.”

“How should we tell them?” your grandmother says with a fond laugh on her lips.

“Ah yeah, I totally forgot that this isn’t the real world. Damn, it’s insane to think that we’re in a magical afterlife right now. It feels so real.”

“In an unexplainable, but wonderful way this is real.”

You smile at the thought, reaching out to hold your grandparent’s hands.

“I’m so happy that it is. I really missed you so much.”

“We missed you too, my honeybee.”

“My girl, hm, my girl.”

“How is it possible for grandpa to be here? You said that you would tell me later.”

“Ah yes, I did”, she says, shifting into a more comfortable position, “there is a ritual you can do to mark the soul of a person so it is worthy to live in this realm after death.”

“There is?”

“Yes, yes there is. Harald, get me the book”, she says and gestures to the bookcase in the living room.

Your grandfather stands up, “the purple one?”

“No, the black one with the moon on the front.”

“Okay.”

He looks for it for a moment, returning with it once he found it. He places it on the table and sits down. Your grandmother opens it in the middle. Drawings of spell materials are on the right page while the left describes the ritual in detail.

“It is a very difficult ritual and dangerous too.”

“Yeah it really is”, Yoongi agrees, “if you get the mixture wrong, the soul ends up cursed.”

“So you know the spell?”

“No, I haven’t heard of it before, but I know what citrine powder mixed with too much beryl dust does. Especially when you use it in this kind of way and with these enchantments. It can curse the soul so that after death, it dissolves into nothing.”

“You know a lot about magic, don’t you?”

“Yoongi was a student of Nilrem.”

Your grandmother widens her eyes in surprise.

“Nilrem? The creator of magic?”

“The bringer of magic, yes. He always said that he came from another universe, but he was honestly crazy so I don’t know if he just made stuff up.”

“This is actually very shocking to me. ___ told me that you had knowledge in magic, but I never connected the dots that it is because you were one of Nilrem’s students.”

“Yeah no, I was”, he says shyly, scratching the side of his neck.

“Fascinating”, she says and giggles shyly, “please forgive me, but this feels as if I am meeting a celebrity.”

Yoongi blushes and looks to the side. You give his cheek a little kiss.

“He’s so cool, isn’t he?”

“Don’t say that”, he whispers, nudging you under the table.

“Mhm, he is the coolest”, you say and smooch him a second time despite his protesting nudge.

Your grandmother watches it fondly before looking back into the book.

“I bet you already know what you have to do for the spell to work, don’t you?”

“No please, don’t feel inferior in my presence. I seriously don’t know a lot about magic”, he assures her. He is being humble for her sake. It is obvious to all of you that he is.

“Did you enchant grandpa with this spell?”

“Yes I did. I measured the ingredients multiple times and practiced the spell many times.”

“So you can practice spells?”

Your grandmother looks at Yoongi.

“Please go ahead, Agatha”, he tells her, giving her enough confidence to continue.

“Yes you can. There is a method where you can enchant a hay puppet with it and then throw it into flames. When the smoke turns black, the spell would fail but if it turns white, the spell is correct.”

“I see. This is actually so helpful. When Yoongi was in a magical coma, I got help from Meredith and her coven.”

“I know Meredith.”

“Yes, we got help from them and they tested spells by drawing blood from Jungkook and inflicting the portions with the curse. It was really fascinating and I never thought that it was possible.”

“Oh you know so much already, my honeybee”, she says with great melancholy in her eyes, “it’s correct that you can find an antidote against blood curses by testing it on small amounts of the right blood”, she says and looks at Jungkook, “that would mean that you are from Yoongi’s bloodline.”

“I am. Wow, how did you know?” Jungkook gasps.

“The vampire curse is just a little different in each Creator’s blood, which means their creations are each just a little different because the change is based on the Creator’s blood. Which means that Meredith could only successfully test out the different antidotes on your blood because you shared Yoongi’s specific curse properties. It wouldn’t have worked otherwise.”

“Wow, I didn’t know that”, Jungkook confesses, “did you?”

Yoongi shakes his head, “not so detailed. I knew that my sire line shares the same curse as me, but I didn’t know that my curse also changed their blood to be the same as mine.”

“Does that mean that they’re the same in here as well?” you ask.

“No”, she shakes her head, “in here no curses can reach. You are all how you were when you were still human”, she glances at Yoongi, “or witches.”

Yoongi looks at his hands with widened eyes, as if he just realised what it meant to be free of his curse.

“Oh.”

“Wow, this is so cool”, you are too occupied with being excited to notice, “you know so much, grandma. This world is so cool and this spell is even cooler. Does this mean that I could make sure that they find peace in this world if they ever die?”

“You could, but you have to be careful”, she furrows his brows in seriousness, “this curse isn’t to take lightly. I only started practicing it once I knew I had complete control over my powers and I only put it on your grandfather after practicing it for months.”

“I understand. I won’t do it without practice, I promise.”

“That’s what I want to hear, my honeybee”, she says and caresses your cheek, “I’m so proud of you.”

You lean into her touch, feeling so very warm in your chest.

“Thanks, grandma.”

Taehyung helps with washing the dishes after dinner, while Jungkook and Yoongi help your grandfather outside with the animals. You stay with your grandmother and Taehyung, telling her more about how you think that your boys are the coolest people ever. She listens to you happily. After cleaning up, you play cards until your grandparents get too tired and excuse themselves for the night.

Your grandparents are the first to wash up, while Jungkook and Taehyung say that they will unpack their bags a little. You are the next to wash up, now currently leaving the bathroom in your coziest pyjamas.

“Careful.”

“Oh? Oops”, you stop in your tracks after almost crashing into Yoongi.

He lowers his hand, having wanted to knock.

“Did you want to knock?”

He nods his head.

“I didn’t hear anything, so I didn’t know if it was empty already. Human hearing and shit, it’s useless”, he says, making you chuckle.

“It’s empty now”, you tell him and step out of the doorframe, “if you’re quick, you even get the warmth.”

“Yeah, thanks uhm”, he says and disappears inside.

You study the closed door for a moment, having to smile. He’s especially cute tonight. Really awkward. You love when he’s awkward, because he gets so adorable when he is.

Jungkook is in your bedroom, turning to you when you enter. He looked at your desk before that. His eyes begin sparkling, his lips curl into a smile.

“Hey there”, he says.

“Hey there”, you say.

“Wow, I love the pyjamas. Purple. The colour fits you so well.”

“Thanks, heh”, you say, posing for him in a cute way.

He appreciates it with sparkling eyes and the brightest smile ever.

“And they’re really soft.”

“I can tell”, he says and continues with a shy gleam in his eyes, “I didn’t wanna be all alone downstairs, so I waited for you. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. Did you find something you like?”

“I looked at the drawings on your desk. Are they yours?”

“Yup, my childhood drawings.”

“Wow, you had talent.”

You close the distance between you and him, travelling your eyes over the drawings.

“I did, didn’t I? I mostly painted the cottage, my grandparents and the animals. This is Moo and this is supposed to be Jumper”, you say, pointing at the childish drawing of a cow and a brown rabbit.

“I can totally see the resemblance. You really nailed Jumper’s long ears.”

“I did, yeah”, you say, having to snicker.

Jungkook snickers as well, rubbing his hand up and down your back in an innocent show of affection. He ends the adoration with a little massage of your neck and a soft brush down your hair. You really love receiving it, feeling safe in his presence.

“The fabric’s really soft. You’re right”, he says, caressing your back again.

“I know, it’s so comfy.”

He leans in and sniffs you by your shoulder.

“Hm, smells good too.”

“It’s the detergent we always use.”

“It’s nice.”

He kisses your shoulder in an innocent show of affection, then straightens up to look at the drawings on the wall. More drawings of the cottage and its animals, a few drawings of flowers and other plants and some are family portraits of you and your grandparents.

“It’s kinda cute that they kept all of this even in the afterlife”, he says.

“I know, it’s so cute. Do you think that it looks different here than it did last time?”

“Yeah, totally. More alive I would say and a lot more lived in.”

“Yeah, I think so too. Did you test out the bed yet?”

He shakes his head, “I didn’t know if I could. I’m still in my clothes and all.”

“No, you totally could have”, you assure him and walk to your bed. You throw yourself onto it, bouncing on it with a big grin on your lips.

Jungkook laughs in fondness.

“Come here, the bounce is great.”

Jungkook closes the distance and sits down next to you, laughing loudly when you bounce next to him, making him shake around this way.

“Do it too.”

Jungkook does as he is told, bouncing on the mattress with silly laughter on his lips. You have to laugh as well, wiggling your toes because it’s so fun to be silly with him.

“Ah, I love it here”, you say, dropping into the sheets with your arms stretched far from you.

Jungkook rests his weight on his hand, having his torso turned to you.

“It’s really nice here, yeah”, he agrees.

“It also smells so nice”, you say, sniffling vividly.

Jungkook breathes in deeply, “yeah right. Like fresh laundry and hay.”

“Yeah, so nice.”

“My nose is so weak though. It’s a little weird not to smell a million scents all the time.”

“Gosh, this must feel like a holiday.”

“It does. I can only smell the laundry, the hay and your soap. At home I would smell your emotions and your blood and the animals outside and, and, and”, he huffs out air, “damn, I really smell a lot don’t I?”

“You really do.”

“Ah, it’s nice to take a break from it.”

Silence overcomes you where Jungkook gazes at you and you gaze at him. You end up having to smile at him. He retorts it and shifts his eyes to your stomach.

“You’ve got a little skin showing”, he says, reaching to fix the slipped up shirt.

“I know, the movement made my shirt slip up.”

“Mhm”, he hums and does the unthinkable thing of pulling the shirt further up your tummy so he could lean down and blow raspberries on it.

“No please!” you squeak, lifting your legs and grabbing his head because it tickles so much.

Jungkook does it again, forcing the loudest cackle to escape you.

“Koo stop”, you complain, trying to push his head away.

“Sorry”, he laughs and pulls the shirt down. He lies down next to you and attacks your neck next.

“This isn’t better, Kook stop it”, you complain in cackles and little squirms.

Jungkook smiles against your skin. His heart is racing like crazy in his chest.

“You’re so fucking cute”, he whispers and goes to attack you again.

“Please”, you squeal, having to laugh honestly and loudly. He is tickling you, but it doesn’t feel awful. It feels good. Safe. Tingly. You can’t stop laughing, trying to fight him off with soft tugs at his strong arm.

But Jungkook is stronger than you, pinning you down even more by lying some of his weight on your chest and attacking the other side of your neck.

He probably would have teased you to the point of tears of laughter if someone hadn’t knocked on your door. He stops instantly, lifting his head. Did you wake your grandparents?

Knock. Knock.

“Yeah?” you call out.

“It’s me”, Yoongi says.

“Come in.”

The door opens and in steps Yoongi. He is in his black pyjamas with his hair unstyled and his cheeks looking especially dewy. He closes the door, waddling to your bed. Then he stands. Stands and stares and rubs his own tummy.

“Do you need something, my love?” you ask him, sitting up in bed.

Jungkook sits up as well, looking at Yoongi with curious eyes.

“I was maybe thinking that, I don’t know, maybe uhm maybe, uhm”, he stutters, blushing shyly, “nevermind, it’s stupid”, he says and tries to flee.

You however stop him with a gentle touch to his inner wrist.

“You can talk to us”, you assure him, giving him a sweet smile, “what’s the matter, love?”

“Uhm”, Yoongi begins, “uhm, uh. Do you wanna, uhm, share a bed tonight?” he finally gets out, looking at Jungkook.

“Me?” Jungkook makes sure.

Yoongi nods his head, touching his own ear to soothe himself.

“I was thinking maybe it could be nice. I don’t know, it’s stupid. Sorry, it’s stupid.”

“No, it’s not. I love this idea”, Jungkook says and reaches out to touch Yoongi’s waist, “I would love to share a bed with you, my hyungie.”

“Okay. That’s cool”, Yoongi says dryly but with flushed cheeks.

“Is that okay with you, ___?” Jungkook makes sure.

You look between them. Jungkook is excited, while Yoongi is nervous.

“Of course that’s okay with me. You two deserve all the bed snuggles in the world”, you say and grin, “I also get to snuggle Tae, so that’s a win for me.”

Jungkook chuckles fondly while Yoongi relaxes in relief.

“That’s true, Tae snuggles are very nice”, Jungkook says and pecks your cheek, “is the bathroom empty?”

“Yeah”, Yoongi confirms.

“Coolio, I’ll wash up and I’m expecting you in the guest bed once I’m done”, he says and snickers, rolling out of bed to leave the room.

He closes the door.

Yoongi sits down on bed instantly, taking your hands. He squeezes them so tightly, one might wonder if he wanted to crumble them.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I don’t wanna make you feel as if you’re not important to me. I, I love sleeping next to you, but I, I wanna spend time with Jungkook too. Sometimes. I’m sorry, Please don’t be too mad at me.”

“Gosh Yoongi, you’re worrying for nothing”, you say in a fond chuckle and kiss his cheek. You keep close afterwards, running your fingers through his hair, “I’m not mad at you. This is part of what being poly is. Sometimes you just wanna spend time with a certain person, but that doesn’t mean the other automatically loses value. I don’t feel mad that you crave Kookie time tonight.”

Yoongi relaxes his shoulders, gazing at you.

“Thank you for understanding, you’re so…” he sighs and speaks in a softer voice, “I’m a mess and you’re calm. This is all new to me. I haven’t done poly before. I’m a mess. I practiced outside ‘cause I was scared of your reaction. You’re so calm. I feel peaceful.”

“Gosh Boongie, you cutie. I’m glad that I make you feel at peace”, you say and kiss his cheek a second time.

He leans into the affection, closing his eyes halfway.

“I also understand your feelings about doing poly for the first time. It’s my first time as well and I’m really scared to mess up, but I think that our little family can make it work.”

“Yeah me too”, he agrees, nodding his head.

“We’re doing really well, I think.”

He nods his head, shifting his eyes to your intertwined hands. He traces your knuckles with his thumbs, following the movement with sparkling eyes.

“How are you liking the stay here?” you ask him because you crave just a little more of his voice.

“Good. I think it’s good”, he says, nodding his head.

“Yeah? Me too. I really love it here. Gosh Yoongi, it was my dream to show this place to you. It makes me so happy that you can finally see it.”

“I like it, yeah”, he meets your eyes, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I didn’t talk a lot.”

“At dinner?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s okay, my love. You were perfect. I can assure you that my grandparents love you.”

“I hope. I’m really nervous.”

“I can tell, but don’t be. You’re doing really well”, you assure him, combing your fingers through his soft hair.

“Thank you”, he whispers.

You kiss his cheek, rubbing his back afterwards.

“I spent so much of my early childhood in this room. I have really dear memories of it.”

“It’s a good room.”

“Yeah it is”, you agree and stand up to get the drawings from the table. You sit down next to him and show them to him, “I painted a lot in my free time. Mostly the cottage, the animals and my grandparents. Do you recognise the cow?”

“Is it the one outside?”

“Correct. Her name’s Moo. I named all of the animals here, which is why the names are very unoriginal.”

Yoongi smiles softly and takes the drawing with careful fingers.

“Moo is a good name for a cow.”

“I guess so, yeah”, you snicker, “the bunnies are called Jumper, Flopsi and Daisy.”

“Cute.”

“Yeah, they’re so cute. The second cow is called Milky.”

He laughs.

“Don’t laugh, I told you the names are very unoriginal.”

“It’s cute, I’m laughing ‘cause it’s cute”, he says, meeting your eyes shyly. You give him a grin, kissing his lips afterwards.

“You’re cute.”

He looks away, blushing instantly.

“You’ve been freaking cute the entire day. Do you know that, my love?”

He shakes his head, touching the side of his neck.

“Now you know.”

“Okay”, he mumbles and tries to change the topic by flipping the drawings, “do the chickens have names too?”

“Of course they do. I was obsessed with Greek mythology back then, so I named all the chickens after Greek goddesses, except for Jolene who I named after the song because my grandparents always played it and I was obsessed with it.”

Yoongi smiles. He thinks that you were very adorable as a child.

“The second brown chicken is Helen, the white ones are Aphrodite and Hera. The two black ones are Persephone and Hades.”

“Hades?”

“I was obsessed with him. I genuinely thought that he was so cool.”

“You think the weirdest dudes are cool.”

“I think you’re cool.”

“Exactly.”

“Yoongi, come on”, you nudge his arm, “you’re not weird. In some strange way you remind me of him.”

“I do? Why?”

“He really loved Persephone and dedicated a lot to her. He’s this scary dude to so many people, but secretly he is just a big softie for his wife.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true. I’m soft for you”, he says, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

You accept his affection with closed eyes.

“Didn’t he also kidnap her and force her to marry him and live with him? I don’t think that’s what a softie would do. He forced her and that’s definitely not me.”

You laugh, “no, that’s definitely the part we’ll ignore. You’re not like that at all.”

“Yeah, he’s a fucking asshole”, he agrees.

“God, you and your harsh tongue.”

“I mean it. He’s an asshole. I don’t think I’m like him at all. I would never force you to do anything.”

“Okay fine, I admit it. You’re not like him at all, sorry. You’re a cutie patootie”, you say and kiss his cheek.

He smiles, leaning in with a fluttering heart.

“But you are a softie. Don’t fight me on that.”

He laughs, “I can live with that.”

You snicker.

“Hyung?”

You and Yoongi look at the door where Jungkook is standing in a light blue pyjama set.

“Are you coming?” he asks Yoongi.

“Huh?”

Jungkook steps into the room, grinning cutely. He struts to the bed and takes Yoongi’s hands. It results in Yoongi gawking at him with big eyes and parted lips.

“I told you to wait for me in bed, but you’re still here. Get your butt over here”, he says, tracing his knuckles gently.

“Sorry, I’m already coming”, Yoongi murmurs and looks at you, “sleep tight, my princess.”

“Sleep tight as well, my prince. And you too my honey, sleep tight.”

“You too, my honey”, Jungkook says, stealing a loving kiss.

You smile, smiling brighter when Yoongi steals a kiss as well before he finally stands up. The two men turn to each other and soon after, leave the room.

“What are you thinking, hyungie? Do you wanna make music together?”

“Only if you want to. I don’t know, maybe, yeah. Or no. If you want to.”

“Why are you so nervous? It’s just me”, Jungkook is teasing.

“Shut up, you brat I…”

Their conversation drowns out as they close the door behind them, but seconds later, Jungkook’s bright laughter can be heard.

You sigh in fondness, grinning to yourself. You are so happy that they have each other. To think that they will spend a lovely evening with each other, doing stuff they enjoy doing together, just makes you so incredibly happy. You really hope that their night is wonderful and filled with safe intimacy.

You roll out of bed and leave your room in search of Taehyung. You can’t wait to spend time with him.

The cottage is empty. How weird. Where could he be? You look around for a bit, noticing that your grandpa left the lights on outside. You open the front door, which is surprisingly unlocked. How weird indeed. Your grandpa is normally very particular with locking the doors at night.

“Huh?”

You turn off the lights to see better. There are candles burning where the small table is. Someone is sitting by it. You squint your eyes. Taehyung. Taehyung is sitting by the table. Your heart flutters. There he is, you finally found him. Oh, you can’t wait to get to him.

You wrap a blanket around yourself and grab one for Taehyung, leaving the house afterwards in your slippers. The good thing about this magical realm is that it never gets dark enough that you feel blind. You can still walk comfortably even now that it is night. And yet somehow when you are lying in bed, trying to sleep, the night feels like the darkest night you have ever experienced. Perhaps it is the magic infused in this air, which makes the night as bright or as dark as one needs it to be.

Taehyung doesn’t hear you. In the real world, he would have lifted his head the moment you stepped out the door, but not here. He is still oblivious to you. Only when you tap his shoulder, does he finally react.

“Oh heavens”, he gasps, flinching vividly.

“Sorry, oh dear”, you get out, placing your hand on his shoulder, “it’s just me, don’t be scared.”

“Darling”, he whines, looking up at you with big eyes, “you frightened me. Do not sneak up on me like this.”

“I’m sorry”, you say and snicker, “gosh, this was hilarious. You should have seen your face.”

“Yes, yes make fun of me all you want, but the truth is that I almost died right now”, he says and touches his own chest, “my heart is racing. Feel it.”

You reach down and place your hand on his chest. He wasn’t lying. His heart is hammering against his ribcage.

“That’s true. Your pulse’s going crazy”, you say and giggle.

“Yes, because you frightened me”, he says, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

“I’m sorry, really”, you chuckle, “but I have to make use of you guys’ weak senses. You guys keep startling me in the real world, so this is all just part of my revenge plan.”

He laughs.

“Oh how terribly mean of you. I will pay you back.”

“Will you now?”

“Yes. Yes, I will”, he says and hugs your waist, squishing his cheek against your stomach this way. He giggles, scrunching his nose.

He is such a cutie. You feel so incredibly soft for him. You ruffle his hair, making him look up at you this way. The candle light shows his sparkling puppy eyes. His features look so timelessly beautiful. You trace them gently, which makes him open and close his eyes at you slowly.

“Okay, okay. If you really have to”, you say with a fond smile on your lips, brushing your fingertips down the slope of his nose.

Taehyung giggles and nuzzles his nose into your stomach. A kiss comes next. He turns back to the table afterwards.

You follow his line of sight. He is drawing. Using what formidable light the candles emit to sketch your bedroom. He uses a photograph as reference, drawing it with impressive accuracy.

“Are you drawing my bedroom?” you ask him, running your hand up and down his back mindlessly. He is already a little cool to the touch.

“Indeed I am”, he says, “I want to sketch it so I can finally start on designing the murals.”

“Really? Wow Tae, I’m so excited.”

“Yes, me too. I haven’t worked on murals in years, although I truly enjoy the process of them. Working on your wing will be a lot of fun.”

“I can imagine”, you say and rub his back more vigorously, “gosh darling, aren’t you cold? You feel so cold to the touch. Here, let me.”

You place a blanket over his shoulders, smoothing it down carefully. Taehyung looks up at you with big puppy eyes, holding his breath. You end your affection with a soft brush of your fingers against the underside of his chin. He tilts his head as he chases the touch.

“Why?” he asks in a whisper.

“What do you mean?”

“Why did you put a blanket over me?”

“Because I know how chilly it can get and you don’t have superpowers keeping you warm right now.”

“I see. That is correct”, he says, lowering his eyes shyly. His pulse is racing. It flusters him terribly whenever you take care of him.

“Can I stay with you a little while?”

“Yes, of course. Of course, you can”, he says, scooting to the side to make space.

You take it instantly, looking into the notebook. Your left hand is resting on his thigh.

“Are these sketches for the flower murals?” you ask him, pointing at the opposite page.

“Indeed, they are. What do you think of them?”

“They look lovely.”

“Do you like them?”

“I really do. I’m already excited to have them on my walls. I love them.”

Taehyung giggles and rests his cheek on your shoulder, grinning brightly.

“Thank you so much. It makes me so happy to hear this”, he says and nuzzles.

You turn your head, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose. Taehyung sighs and chases your kiss.

You and he share a sweet moment. He tastes like smiles and chocolate. It is a lovely combination. You break the kiss with a stub of your nose, caressing his skin with it afterwards.

“You taste like chocolate.”

“I am eating chocolate”, Taehyung says and sits up, “do you want some?” he offers.

“Thank you”, you say, breaking off a row. You bite off a good piece and let it melt on your tongue, the other piece you feed to Taehyung. He allows you with a fluctuating pulse. Truly, you make him feel so giddy.

“What do you think of it?” he asks you in a soft voice.

“It’s slightly bitter but with a sweet aftertaste. I really like it.”

“I like it as well”, he says and lowers his eyes, letting out a shy giggle. He turns his head away, “oh heavens.”

“What’s the matter?”

“When I look at you, my heart races. The feeling is so unfamiliar.”

“Can I feel it?”

Taehyung nods his head, holding his breath when you place your hand on his chest.

Badums. Badums. Badums.

His pulse is rhythmical and steady, keeping him alive here in this magical realm where no curse can reach and the world is alright. You circle your thumb in a gentle caress, lifting your eyes and meeting his shy gaze.

You smile. Taehyung retorts it.

“It’s racing.”

“It is.”

You kiss his cheek, speeding up his pulse for the duration of it. You pull back. Taehyung touches the spot you kissed, gazing at you with parted lips

“It fluttered when I did that”, you whisper.

“I know”, he breathes.

“It feels so strange, but in a good way.”

“I cannot get used to it.”

“You can’t?”

He shakes his head, “my heart stood still for centuries, but all of a sudden it beats again. I keep having to take deep breaths because I am so aware of it.”

“I can imagine. It must feel crazy to be alive again after all these years.”

“Crazy. I guess one can say it like this”, he whispers and turns away so he can draw again. Except that he doesn’t draw, twirling the pen in his fingers as his eyes race over the sketches.

You slide your hand to his side, hugging him and resting your cheek against his shoulder.

“Do you remember our first time?” you ask him.

“Our first time?”

You nod your head, “when we snuck away from acting class and hurried to my apartment. You were so touchy and I felt so giddy because you hadn’t been like this until then.”

Taehyung smiles softly, listening to you reminisce with a fluttering heart.

“I could barely unlock the door, but got nervous once inside. Do you remember?”

“I do.”

“Do you remember how we talked and shared some tea?”

“Of course I do. You told me that you didn’t have a lot of experience.”

“And you were so sweet about it”, you squeeze him gently, “do you remember the dreams we talked about?”

“You said that you wanted to make people happy.”

“And you told me that you wanted to be alive. That you wanted to be happy again.”

Taehyung lowers his eyes, tightening his jaw.

“Remember?”

“I do”, he whispers.

“Well, now you finally know how it feels to be alive”, you say and lift your head to gaze at him.

You furrow your brows.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.”

“Tae, what’s the matter?”

“I don’t know”, he says and turns his head away when you try to cup his cheek.

You try again, doing it with both hands. You succeed, meeting his eyes.

“What’s the matter, darling?”

“I don’t know if I’m happy”, he whispers, forcing your brows to furrow. He attempts to look away, to hide because the worry in your eyes embarrasses him.

“Taehyung my darling oh god, this is so awful. Is there a reason why you feel this way?”

“I’m sorry, I just…I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, please don’t be embarrassed. Talk to me, my darling.”

He meets your eyes again. Worry and love meet him there. Honest, deep love. The kind of love that wants to welcome and heal, to hold and cradle, to stay and grow. He remembers the last part of his wish then. That he wanted to be loved for who he truly is. He remembers it and realises that he can find this kind of love in your eyes. And as he realises it, his heart races unbearably, reminding him that he is experiencing the first part of his wish as well. He is alive and he is loved unconditionally.

Only the second part is hard to do. It wasn’t always difficult, or perhaps it was and he pretended that it wasn’t, and lately he is very aware of it, finding it hard to accept.

“Talk to me, my sweetest”, you whisper.

“It”, he begins and looks away because it is too embarrassing otherwise.

You allow him, holding his hand instead and listening to him with all your attention.

“It is difficult to be happy. I do not know what to do with myself now that I am…” he falters.

“It’s okay, take your time.”

“Namjoon is captured. He won’t ever hurt me and Jimin again. I should be happy, but I am not. I feel so lost.”

“Because we don’t have to hunt anything anymore?”

“No.”

“What then? If you want to tell me.”

“I want to tell you, but it is difficult to speak.”

“Do you want to write it down instead?”

He looks at his book. His pen. He picks it up and opens an empty page, writing down what he can’t speak. You allow him the time he needs, scratching his scalp all throughout.

Taehyung doesn’t take long. The unspeakable words aren’t much, but you know that sometimes the hardest words to speak are the shortest. I love you. I’m sorry. I need help. The words aren’t long and yet they are some of the hardest to speak for so many people. The way to the heart is short with them, which perhaps makes them so difficult to speak. Taehyung slides the book to you. You pick it up and read it.

“I feel lost and shaken, as if I am still drowning even now that I am on safe land. A scrambled mind and tortured body were my reality for decades and now I am to believe that I am free? How do I be free?”

You lift your eyes. He can barely keep up contact, but does it because he craves it.

“Oh Tae. My beloved, gentle Tae”, you get out and cradle his cheeks.

He leans into your safe touch, closing his eyes.

“I understand that the words are difficult to speak. This is a lot to feel all alone. How long have you been feeling this way?”

“Too long.”

“Gosh, come here”, you say, pulling him into a hug. You sway him gently, playing with his hair because you know that this soothes him.

Taehyung lets it happen with closed eyes and his arms tight around you. His nose is buried in the crook of your neck, his skin shares warmth with yours. The once scary words feel manageable in your arms.

“I’m so sorry that you feel this way, my darling. It must be so unfamiliar to be free after so many decades. I don’t know if you want advice from me and I honestly don’t know if I can even give you some, but I want to be there for you. That much is sure, you’re not going to figure it out alone because I’ll help you with it.”

Taehyung smiles and it is honest. He nods his head in understanding.

“Yeah, exactly. I’ll be with you. We’ll do it together. Everyone always says that healing is easy, but it’s not. Healing can be ugly and hard and scary. But we’ll do it together, okay?”

“Yes, okay”, he whispers, having to lift his head to make sure that you were truly real.

You cup his cheeks, caressing his skin. He smiles and so you smile as well.

“I’m happy right now”, he confesses in a quiet voice.

“You are?”

He nods his head.

“I doubt a lot in my life. I think the love I receive is an act of pity.”

“No-”

“Except yours. I don’t doubt your love for me. I gaze at it in wonder and awe because I find it unbelievable that you still love me after all I did, but I never doubt it.”

Your heart flutters.

“Thank you so much. You told me that your wish was to make people happy. Well, you are making me happy”, he smiles shyly, “at least happier for now.”

You laugh softly. He does too.

“You’ll be happy again, I promise”, you say and tug a strand of his dark hair behind his ear, “also thank you for saying this. I love you so, so much and it makes me happy to know that I don’t make you doubt it.”

“I love you too. I have done so ever since we snuck away from acting class and will always do so.”

“Oh my darling Taehyung”, you whisper, leaning in until you can rub your nose against his’ slowly.

“Yes, this will never change”, he whispers, matching your rhythm with his eyes closed.

“Oh my sweet, gentle Tae”, you breathe, kissing him softly afterwards.

He kisses you back, holding you in his hands as if you were the greatest treasure. And in some way you were. He feels lost and vast of happiness most of the time, but not right now. You gave him support again, an anchor to hold onto and hope to cling to. Maybe the feelings won’t last forever, but at least for a little while, Taehyung feels safe again. And that is perfectly alright for him, because sometimes just a little while is already enough to keep the soul going.

Taehyung breaks the kiss so he could hug you against his chest and feel your heartbeat this way. He cannot hear it, but that is okay for him because he can feel it match with his’ tonight. He is alive with you. He is alive and safe and loved. Taehyung presses you closer, inhaling the scent of you to make all of this realer.

“Our hearts are beating the same”, he whispers.

“I can feel it too”, you whisper.

“Wow, I really love you so much.”

You smile, “I love you too.”

“Holy fuck, I really love you.”

You laugh, “I fucking love you too, Tae.”

He laughs, “you have me cursing. That’s what you are doing to me.”

You snicker, “it’s cute.”

Wind rushes in the trees and reminds you of your own vulnerability. You and Taehyung tug the blankets tighter around your bodies, but the cold remains.

“I am very cold.”

“Yeah, me too. Maybe we should continue the cuddles inside”, you suggest, “after a warm shower and under the sheets.”

“This sounds very cozy.”

“It is cozy. Come on, we’ll get warm inside.”

“Yes, okay okay”, he says, standing up and packing his stuff so you could get inside.

Taehyung allows you to brush your teeth first because he still has to wash up for the night and will therefore take longer. So after brushing your teeth, you go to your room alone. The slit under the door of Yoongi’s and Jungkook’s room shows no light anymore. They must be asleep already. You wish then a silent good night behind the closed door and slip inside your room.

Taehyung comes inside not long after, still wrapped in a towel and nothing else.

“My bag is in the guest bedroom”, he says with a pout, “I forgot to take out my sleeping clothes.”

“Oh dear. Do you want to borrow some of my clothes?”

“Your clothes?”

“Yes, wait”, you roll out of bed to get to your bag, “luckily for you, I have another sleeping gown with me. You’ll look really fancy in it. I could also offer you some of my panties.”

He laughs, “I have to decline. My good parts are not going to stay in such little fabric.”

You snicker, “I bet it would look pretty, though. Here, I can offer you this”, you say, unravelling a long night gown, “tada.”

It is made out of lilac cotton fabric and has a rather straight cut to it. It isn't at all the prettiest nor the fanciest dress, but it is comfortable and that is all which matters.

“Oh pretty. It will do”, he says and exchanges the towel for the dress. He twists and turns in it, fixing the creases in the front, “how do I look?”

“It actually fits you perfectly, wow, you are so handsome in it. You also kind of remind me of Ebenezer Scrooge.”

“Hey”, he gasps, having to laugh, “if you were attempting to compliment me, it did not work.”

You laugh, “no, it’s cute. It fits you really well.”

“It is so comfortable. No wonder you took it with you”, he says and wiggles his hips, “oh? I feel so very free between my legs this way”, he jokes, gyrating his hips in a funny way and making you laugh with it.

“You look so handsome. Gosh, Tae you cutie you, com’ere”, you hug him, using the momentum to pull him into bed.

He falls onto you with a squeaked laugh, burying you under his weight, which makes you laugh and hug him even closer.

“Careful, ah, darling you are going to expose my bottom this way”, he giggles, trying to fight you gently.

“Com’ere you cutie, god you cutie”, you care rather little about his complaints, rolling around the sheets with his body in a tight lock.

After some rolling around and soft wrestling, you have him on his back with his face under your lips as you attack it with kisses. Taehyung lets it happen with giggles and squirms, feeling so goddamn giddy that his heart might burst in his chest.

“Mwuah”, you end your love attack with a loud sound, lifting your head so you can grin down at him. You slide your hand down his torso so you could fix the messy dress, caressing his waist afterwards.

“What?” he whispers.

“I just love looking at you.”

“Oh”, Taehyung blushes and scrunches his nose shyly, “I love looking at you too.”

“Hehe”, you let out and give him a kiss, lying down next to him afterwards.

Taehyung sits up, tugging you in under the blanket. You let it happen with a fluttering heart.

“Thankies”, you say.

“My darling should stay warm”, he says and rubs his hand up and down your covered arm, “are you warm this way?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Wonderful.”

He leans down to litter your cheek and temple with kisses. He even kisses your ear and leaves a few tender love nibbles on your neck.

“My sweetest.”

He snuggles into the pillow, holding your hand. He gives you a cute grin.

“You are right, this is very cozy.”

“Right? It’s this place. Something about this room makes everything ten times cozier.”

“I truly believe that it is because everything is placed perfectly so the energies can flow.”

“Yeah, this could actually be it. It always felt healing to be here.”

“I can imagine. I find great healing here as well and it hasn’t even been a day.”

You smile, “I’m glad that you are healing. You deserve it.”

Taehyung kisses your knuckles in gratefulness.

“Thank you”, he breathes.

“I mean it. You and Jimin, you both deserve it.”

“Thank you.”

“Mhm, I mean it”, you say and kiss his lips.

You and he stay closer afterwards, still holding hands. You gaze at each other, feeling so connected that nothing could separate your souls.

You do not know how much time passes like this, but it must have been enough to allow sleepiness to settle in your fibers.

You yawn, setting off Taehyung as well.

“Oh dear, this sleepiness came out of nowhere, wow”, you say.

“Indeed”, he agrees mid-yawn.

“Do you want to turn off the lights?”

“Yes, we could do that.”

“You have to do it, you’re closer.”

“Okay, okay”, Taehyung says and reaches for the lamp, “I started saying okay, okay because of you”, he says, switching off the light, “it is addictive, I can’t seem to want to stop.”

“It’s cute, don’t stop”, you say, “it means that we’re spending so much time together that we started picking up habits from each other. I catch myself adding rather in front of words because of you.”

“I noticed”, Taehyung says and intertwines his hand with yours, “it is like we became versions of each other.”

“Yes, definitely”, you say and close the distance between you and him to rest your forehead against his’. You kiss his nose, nuzzling your own nose against it afterwards, “I love you, Tae.”

“I love you too, my sweetest”, he says, closing his eyes.

“I hope you’ll have a good sleep tonight.”

“I will. I am with you. I will.”

You smile, burying your hand in his hair to play with it until sleep drags you down. You are with him and he is with you. Sleep is going to be good. It truly will be.

“___?”

“Yes, Tae?”

“I just…I don’t know why I called your name, I guess that I wanted to talk some more.”

You chuckle.

“What do you want to talk about?”

“Whatever. I really enjoy the sound of your voice.”

“Gosh Tae, you’re so sweet. I love your voice as well.”

He relaxes in a small wiggle, running his fingers over your scalp as best as your hair texture allows him to.

“What is your favourite colour?”

“My favourite colour?”

“Yes. Do not ask why this is my first question, I didn’t know what to ask.”

You laugh softly, “it’s a good question. Mhm, I guess my favourite colour is the colour of your blush after I called you mine.”

“___”, he gasps, “why would you say such a thing? Oh, heavens.”

He makes you laugh. He is so adorable when he flusters.

“I’m serious. It’s a very pretty colour.”

“You”, he wraps his limbs around you, shaking you around gently, “I will cuddle you to silence. Stop it.”

You giggle into his chest. Taehyung lets you go after a few moments, heart racing very noticeable.

“Do you have more questions, you cutie?”

“I do not know. I am afraid that you will use them to fluster me again.”

You laugh, “I would never do such a thing.”

“Yes, you would. You became such a flirt. I remember how shy you were in the beginning, how I always managed to fluster you and now look at what you have become.”

“Hey, do not complain about the monster you created. If you hadn’t been such a smooth talker with me all the time, I never would have learned all this stuff.”

He laughs, “I cannot even argue you on this one. You have shown me the truth.”

“See? I’ve simply learned from the best.”

Taehyung hums and tries to kiss your lips but because of the blinding darkness, he ends up snogging your nose.

“Ew Tae, that was so wet”, you whine, wiping your nose on his shirt.

“Forgive me, I aimed for your lips but I…ew? Excuse me, did you just call my kiss ew?”

“I did. Loud and proud. You completely snogged my nose.”

Taehyung closes his lips around your nose again and drags his tongue over it as sloppily as possible.

“Tae”, you squeak, fleeing him, “why did you do that?”

“This is for calling my kiss ew. Now I gave you something truly ew.”

“You’re so gross, dear god”, he makes you laugh. Wiping your nose on his shirt again, you snicker and chuckle. He does the same.

You tilt your head, touching his chin to feel for his lips. Once you found them, you make your move, claiming them in a kiss. He kisses you back eagerly, ending it with a soft bite to your lower lip. You stay close, smiling goofily.

“This was wonderful.”

“It really was. Gosh Tae, I love kissing you. It’s been so long since we shared a night of kisses.”

“Indeed, far too long. Either danger kept us apart or we fought or were forced to be separated. These past few years haven’t been very kind to our bond.”

“Yeah, they really haven’t.”

Taehyung feels for your lips and kisses you. He tastes minty, his lips are soft and so nicely moisturised. His big hand cradles your face, soaking you skin in his warmth. You touch his chest because his racing pulse feels amazing to you.

The kiss breaks because Taehyung is so human here and humans need air way sooner than vampires.

“Oh heavens”, he gasps for air, “I genuinely became out of breath.”

“Now you finally know why I have to keep breaking the kiss in real life.”

“Now I truly know. Is this also how you see when we kiss in darkness?”

“Yes, it’s exactly like that.”

“Well, this is just heartbreaking. All this time, I believed that you were seeing me at least a little bit, but there is nothing. How are you even able to figure out where to kiss?”

“Practice. I’ve only known nights to be dark, so I learned how to navigate it.”

“I see. This is still very sad, you cannot even see me.”

“I know, it’s sad. But it’s also exciting because it feels like sensory deprivation without the blindfold.”

“Oh? Oh, yes it does. Oh how exciting, if I wasn’t so utterly exhausted I would have asked you to play.”

“It’s okay. I’m really exhausted too. Bringing you all here was really tiring.”

“I can imagine”, he rubs your back, “you are truly remarkable. I do not know if I told you already, but I am very proud of you.”

“Thank you, wow”, you whisper, feeling like floating. Being praised by him will never lose its spark.

“My darling witch”, he says with a kiss to your lips. One he only breaks when air is sparse and you are both just a little droopy from it.

You touch each other innocently, both having your eyes closed without managing to open them again. Sleep is so very close. The safe intimacy and love you exchanged only strengthened the tiredness.

“What do you imagine our days to look like from now on?” he asks in a sleepy whisper.

“Peaceful. Probably exhausting for me because I need to learn control, but once I did and we managed to get rid of Superior, I think our days will be peaceful.”

“I truly hope that they will be. I wished for peace for too long.”

“I promise you that they will.”

Taehyung sighs, hugging you against his chest.

“My sweetest ___”, he whispers, “I am so entirely grateful that I never lost you. There were so many chances where you could have been taken from me, so I am entirely grateful that you never were.”

“Me too, Tae. You’re very important to me.”

He sighs again, tangling his legs with yours. He yawns into your hair and smacks his lips.

“Sleepy”, he whispers, making you snicker.

“Me too.”

“Sleep tight, my darling. This time for real.”

“Sleep tight, you cutie.” Yes, sleep will be peaceful. It really will be.

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dedalvs · 3 months

Note

hello sir

I have a High Valyrian grammar question for you

Context: it is a pretty popular fanfiction trend to have one character refer to another character as gevie (beautiful) - in the sense of a pet name not a compliment, like one might call their partner baby/lovely etc.

Problem: when I looked it up gevie is an adjective, and my one semester of Latin set off alarm bells of that not being quite correct.

if I remember correctly one would first need to turn gevie into a noun, and then decline it in the vocative case to make it a grammatically correct nickname.

There is a forum (Linguifex) which claims the noun form of gevie is gevives but I cannot locate any sources on this -ves ending nor how it would be declined.

my best guess from looking at a few different charts is it should look something like this:

gevie (adj.) → gevie + -ves (nom. noun) → gevivys (voc. noun)

Question(s): can you please explain this -ves ending/how you would go about deriving nouns from adjectives in HV

and specifically how you would create the pet name 'beautiful'?

[bonus: pet name 'flower' = rūklon → rūklos. Yes?]

many thanks

If you ever need to look up declensions, go to https://wiki.languageinvention.com/ (it's my site. It goes down a lot, at the moment, but everything for High Valyrian is there).

As for the question (oh, and, yes, rūklos), it kind of depends on what you want to do. If you want to call someone "beauty", you would, indeed, say gevivys, but you would be calling someone "beauty", not "beautiful". For that, I'd just use the vocative of gevie, which would be gevies or gevios. It would depend on who you're saying it to. If it's someone whose name is solar or luanr, use gevies; if it's someone whose name is terrestrial or aquatic, use gevios. Essentially you're choosing the gender based on the missing name (e.g. "beautiful Daenerys", "beautiful Daemon") or noun (e.g. "beautiful woman", "beautiful man", "beautiful star", etc.). Presumably the missing word would be known to the speaker (whatever they're thinking of) and inferred by the hearer, or would be commonly understood.

Incidentally, though, you were spot on about the use of the vocative! It should indeed be the vocative and not the nominative. There is a bit of a question of translation when it comes to using untranslated Valyrian in an English text, but if it's a character speaking English dropping in their own Valyrian, then, yes, presumably they would use the vocative.

#conlang #language #valyrian #high valyrian #translation

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reneezsq · 2 months

Text

halcyon

halcyon (noun.): a period of time in the past that was idyllically happy and peaceful.

❛ !¡ pairing; susanoo x gender neutral!reader.

❛ !¡ summary; one day to relax with your own cat lover god.

❛ !¡ warnings; a bit angsty near the end.

❛ !¡ a/n; i love him sm i swear, kinda disappointed there aren’t many onmyoji writers out there, at least on tumblr i don’t see a lot of fics unfortunately.

In the quietness of the natural beauty of the earth, there, between trees and plants and flowers, stood a humble abode. At the edge of a hill, the scenery around it belongs to the owner of the house, although a part of it is enclosed near that estate to ensure a lack of trespassers in the property. A single cherry blossom stood in the middle of the yard, a gentle wind caressing the leaves and swaying the branches back and forth in a calm mannerism. Almost reflecting a mother softly lulling her child back to sleep, saying the baby back and forth.

This silence soon met its own demise at the crunching noise of dried leaves being stepped on. Not by a big boot, but instead by the delicate and sharp pitty patter of four little paws, small and honed claws scratching them accidentally. It stopped right in front of the tree. Putting its weight on its two last legs, the first two were being dirtied by the force it used to grip the dirt, as if wishing to merge with the latter to then jump right on the tree. A few beats passed, and the wind came to a stop. At that same moment, the cat jumped right towards the wood. A bird flew away.

A whine left the small animal, reluctantly accepting the embrace that had not been foreseen. The blond god in question, who had destroyed the chances of that poor little beast to hide away from the blazing sun, could only chuckle as he saw the hatred of that cat turn all fuzzy once he started petting its head.

His steps brought him back inside the house, and he closed the door behind him in a suspicious silence. His careful eyes darted across the room, seizing up every furniture with a curiosity that seemed impossible on the face of a god as old as he is. A few thousands of years can’t help him find where his beloved ran to during his little outing to catch that small naughty boy who went out on an escapade. He walked closer to the small couch, placing the cat there. It lazily laid down, showing the man its belly and almost replicating the pleas his lover do when they wish for some cuddles: which means batting its eyelashes like a saint and raising its paws to appear innocent and almost hurt by his ignorance.

Rolling his eyes playfully, he sat down, indulging in the funny little tricks of that small cat. Two fingers were put between the ears of the animal, the two muscles twitching at the contact. Then, he dragged his fingers down towards the back of its neck, to then move to the front. The lazy one refused to move, forcing the god to hold it to continue the caresses in its belly. When the cat started purring, he knew he had won this small war to satisfy this greedy scoundrel who will probably soon start putting its scent on the bed and all around the house — not that it was an intrusion he seemed to mind. Although he would probably need to convince his lover with kisses, it has to be the fourth cat, or maybe fifth, that he is bringing home.

His thoughts escaped him when he felt the cat growing limp under his touch. Under the corner of his eye, he noticed that its eyes closed, and that its breathing had settled to replicate his own. What a funny little thing. He playfully ruined the perfect fur of its head before getting up to venture the rest of the house.

Arriving in the kitchen, he had guessed they wouldn’t be there. Most of the time he is the one in charge of the cooking duty, they pretend it is because of a certain laziness, but he never misses the shine in their eyes that keeps him up at night every time their palate enters in contact with something he had cooked. His eyes danced around the counter, noticing the dishes done already, and a batch of handmade cookies in a pristine jar.

Opening a cabinet, he took out a small plate and put it next to those. His gloved hands grabbed the lid, and made it spin on itself until it opened. The scent that came alongside made him breath in deeply, the smile on his face softening increasingly quickly. He picked out a few of those, probably eight or something like that. There were a few more left inside. He closed the jar, and pushed it near the wall to ensure that the sleeping one would not break anything. He took his own little time to prepare a small hot chocolate for them too, making sure to get the measurements perfectly, to do it just like they wanted. He will never miss the opportunity to feel those soft lips he cherishes so much against his skin.

Taking a tray, he put down the plate of cookies and the hot chocolate on it. Before leaving to go upstairs, he made a trip back towards the living room, taking out two books from the library on the left of the door towards the backyard. The first one of that series was missing, they were probably reading it right now. Having acquired all he needed, he finally went upstairs.

The bedroom door was half open. Found them. Knocking on the door twice, he refused to fully open it until he heard a soft hum welcoming him. The two smiled at each other like two fools in love — what they absolutely were — once they saw the other. He put down the tray on the bedside table, sitting on the bed. His eyes fell down to the book they were holding. He was correct after all, they were reading the first book of the series. The wind entered the room, blowing some freezing air as if it was playing with them for fun. He did not tremble, but he felt them rub their arms.

Eyeing the room, he found the culprit: an open window. A bolt of thunder made it close, the mark on his forehead shining slightly as he used his powers. His other hand caught the blanket at the end of the bed, wrapping it around their shoulder. He stole a small kiss, watching teasingly as he saw their surprise and felt the heat of their breath against his face. He had to stifle a laugh, and they giggled too. Their foreheads touched for a slight second, making them stare at the other’s eye. He saw the world in their eyes, and they saw themselves in his. His arms then embraced them in warmth, coddling them close to his chest and drowning away the loneliness that they both felt for so long.

“Is it okay ?” They nodded against him, their head resting against his shoulder as his hand came to rest on their hip, his arm behind their back keeping them close and secure. He grabbed the mug by the handle, giving it to them as they grabbed it with both hands, feeling how hot it was. He took a cookie, putting it in the hot chocolate and hand feeding them as they giggled about how cringe that whole scene was. He playfully rolled his eyes, doing it again but feeding it to himself. They faked a dramatic gasp of pain and betrayal, taking another bite out of the cookie themselves before stealing the plate on the tray that had been placed down, making him say absurd things in exchange for the tiniest bite.

Time went by, and soon dusk came along. The sound of the shower lulled him into calmness as he stared at the view outside. A small fat bird was singing on a branch of the cherry blossom. Another more little bird came in the end, hiding under the wing of the other one. They were both singing along, almost. Chirping away as if it was all they could do anymore, until they had to wait for the end. It was all they could do in truth, and it reminded him how fragile and mortal the world around him was. How easy it would be for someone to chop off that tree, to destroy the branches, to take away the flowers and the leaves, to kill those birds after taking away their home. To simply, ruin all there is to be ruined. And who would be there to rebuild it all ? Humans are strong, but they can be so fragile when the time calls for it. They can just simply vanish, to never be seen again. And once forgotten, nothing is left of their existence. And the past that has been written, is not anymore.

“Susanoo ?” Fingers caressed his cheek, taking him out of his mind. He looked at them, those eyes full of worries. Those eyes that loved him. Those eyes full of stars. Those eyes that carry the world, the world that he loved. Those eyes that carry the ocean, carrying it the soft song of a mermaid’s lullaby, taken away into the lands. Lands muddy with the rain, with the cries and prayers of those who fancy the gods above. Gods that answer, while others can’t. There is this uncertainty when praying, and that’s beautiful. That’s the beauty of the world. Those eyes are the beauty of the world.

He took their hand in his, his head resting against their chest. At the sound of their heartbeat, he relaxed. They sat down on the desk, letting him embrace their waist as he continued to stare at the birds. He felt hands in his hair, braiding a bit of his blond hair. His eyes closed, and he let out a hum as they brushed a certain part of his neck, a small smile playing on his lips. They continued to rub that spot, making his shoulders tremble as he tried to stop himself from laughing.

“Stop that. It tickles.” They rubbed the spot a few more times, only stopping when he grabbed their hands and kissed their cheek. His head rested on their shoulder, hands going up and down their back. Their gaze followed his towards the view outside, their chin on his head.

“The world is beautiful.” “It is.”

TAGGING:: @amxto; @dxmoness (sounds like you’ll be the only ones interested)

#onmyoji.fics #onmyoji.susanoo #onmyoji #susanoo #susanoo onmyoji #onmyoji susanoo #susanoo x reader #onmyoji susanoo x reader #onmyoji x reader #x reader #x gn reader #x gn y/n #x gender neutral reader #x gender neutral y/n #renee.writes

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deakyjoe · 2 days

Text

Absolution

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader (afab, fem)

Category: smut, sex pollen

Summary: Obi-Wan really should have let his curiosity go and avoided that flower.

Warnings: 18+, smut (!!), sex pollen, slight dubcon (because of sex pollen but all consensual), unprotected p in v sex, master kink, slight sub!obi-wan, slight dom!reader, reader talks obi-wan through it basically, suggestions of inappropriate use of a lightsaber, virgin!obi-wan, religious guilt, hints of reader’s past feelings, reader kind of ignores some Jedi rules, kissing, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, a lot of talks of fluids I feel, slight angst I guess, let me know if I missed anything!

Word count: 4.9k

A/N: Happy May the Fourth! Happy Star Wars Day! Wrote an Obi-Wan fic last year so thought I’d keep up the tradition this year as well. It’s not the best thing I’ve ever written, certainly not the best smut, but I did end up rushing it a little to get it posted today so… sorry! This is for @lightwxlker who I told about this over lunch at uni <3 (feel free to read but please never look me in the eye again if you do). Can’t wait to see you later to see The Phantom Menace!!

Consider buying me a coffee :)

Absolution:

(Noun)

Formal release from guilt, obligation, or punishment.

Declaration that a person’s sins have been forgiven.

It felt like you'd been trekking through the dense forest for days. Really, it had only been a few hours. But with no end in sight, and Obi-Wan's continuous promise of almost there, you were convinced that the two of you had been lost for about a week.

The Jedi had told you that you were in search of a hidden community that had answers to some questions that the Council had about... something. You didn't know. You rarely paid attention when Obi-Wan explained these things. As much as you respected him, these briefings started to sound the same after a while. It was the thing he reprimanded you for most often.

"Can we-" You wheezed. "Can we stop for just a minute?"

"Soon." He called over his shoulder simply, pushing aside a leafy branch for the both of you to pass through.

You considered pushing him over, tripping him up maybe, and even just stabbing him with your lightsaber. Just to have a break for a moment. It was unclear how he managed to walk through dense forest for hours on end without even a hint of fatigue peeking through. You envied him for it.

Luckily, your prayers were answered when a clearing appeared. It was small, sheltered by the canopy of trees above you, but it was a good place to stop. You didn't even have to say the word, Obi-Wan already knew what you wanted.

"Fine, rest here for a moment." He sighed, pointing at a rock.

You collapsed quickly, thankful for the brief reprieve, and watched as the Jedi made a slow circle around the clearing. He was inspecting every little thing there was to see. If there was one thing you had in common with the man, it was your curiosity and thirst for knowledge.

"Rather fascinating." He mumbled to himself, ignoring the burning of your stare on his back as he moved, poking at a fungus of some kind with the tip of his finger.

"Be careful. It might be poisonous." You warned, stretching out your legs in front of you.

"I know my living organisms." He replied steadily, pulling up and moving on to the next one.

It was a flower. Rather large, with pinkish petals and an indigo centre extending on from a bright green stem. It looked vaguely familiar to you. You racked your brain, thinking about the botany books you'd spent your spare time reading when Obi-Wan had insisted that you should know more about the planets you were constantly visiting.

Nothing was coming to you. Maybe you hadn't seen it in one of those books. Your head tilted as you watched the Jedi stroke gently at the petals with the backs of his fingers, mumbling about how it felt soft, and something came back to you when the flower seemed to move of its own accord.

"Get back." You shot up from the rock you were previously sitting on and took a quick step towards him.

"It's fine." He insisted, not looking at you - too entranced by the flower as he continued to caress the petals. He didn't know this one. He found it intriguing.

You remembered where you'd seen the flower before. A book hidden deep in the archives, where you ventured when you knew no one was looking, part of a collection of things that the Jedi were not supposed to have interest in.

Your pace picked up as the flower curled in on itself, the fleeting look of disappoint clear on Obi-Wan's face, reaching for his shoulder to wrench him back.

"No! Obi-Wan, stop!"

But it was too late.

As you made contact with his robes to pull him away, the flower blossomed open. A bright cloud of purple pollen burst out and coated the two of you, settling itself over your skin and infiltrating your lungs, and therefore your blood stream, as you breathed it in.

You coughed, scrubbing at yourself to try and get it off. But you knew you were past that.

The Jedi turned to you, surprised to see the panic in your eyes. "It's just flower pollen, nothing a little water won't wash away."

Your voice was shaky as you spoke. "What have you done?"

He frowned and glanced back at the plant. It wasn't one he recognised, granted, but he also hadn't been warned of anything dangerous in this area. So he really wasn't concerned. "I don't understand. What's wrong?"

"It's a flos venerem." You whispered. "We need to find shelter."

As you turned around in a slow circle, trying to decide which way you were more likely to find somewhere to figure everything out, Obi-Wan watched you with a curious gaze.

"And what is a flos venerem?"

You scoffed over your shoulder at him. "Do you ever read?"

You knew it was an unfair question considering the place you'd read about the flower wasn't one he, or any other Jedi, frequented but you were angry and frightened. Angry at him for not listening to your warnings. And frightened for yourself since you knew what the flower was going to do to you.

He looked on as you closed your eyes, feeling out with the Force. "Now is not the time to insult me. Tell me."

You whirled on him. "It's an aphrodisiac. A powerful one. And if we don't find shelter soon then you're going to be doing some strange things to these trees."

Obi-Wan frowned, puzzled by what you were saying. "Is there a cure?"

You laughed humourlessly, turning away from him again. "Is there a cure? Is there a cure, he asks. Ha!"

"An antidote?"

"No, there's no antidote." You hissed.

The effects of the pollen were already weighing on you. You imagined Obi-Wan was also feeling something as well, just unaware of it. At least you knew what you were supposed to be feeling. The Jedi Knight had no idea.

Your mouth felt dry, like sand on your tongue, and your skin was hot to the touch. A dull headache was forming at the base of your skull too and you knew these sensations would only get worse if you didn't do what the flower wanted you to. There really was only one way to fix it. But you couldn't find it in yourself to tell your companion the solution. You were ignoring the heavy feeling in the base of your abdomen.

Sensing your apprehension wasn't overstated, Obi-Wan pointed back in the direction you'd come from. "There was a cave a little while ago. We can go there and you can tell me more about this... aphrodisiac flower."

You only nodded, lacking the strength to tell him that you wouldn't be able to listen to his voice out of fear of what bodily responses that would cause in you. Your existing attraction to Obi-Wan would only be increased by the influence of the plant. And you were scared what you'd do, or what you'd suggest, to ease the feelings.

You started marching in the direction the two of you had come from, jumping away from Obi-Wan as he fell into step beside you and his shoulder brushed yours.

"Keep- keep your distance for a while." You muttered, pushing away the lick of heat that had shot through you at his proximity.

He frowned back at you, feeling bad for making you so clearly uncomfortable. "My apologies."

"It's okay. I'm just-" You cut yourself off with a groan.

Obi-Wan's stomach lurched at the sound. "You're just what?"

"The flower is making it difficult to be next to you." You turned your head away from him, desperately trying to breathe in the clean forest air and nothing else. But all you could smell was him. The scent was so strong that you could practically taste him, his skin, and it was making your mouth water.

"You're already feeling the effects of the flower?" He hummed, pondering. "I feel nothing so far."

It wasn't true. But he was completely unaware of what he was feeling. He put the dry mouth and headache down to minor exhaustion, the hike through the forest finally catching up with him. And the stirring he was feeling... down below was foreign. The Jedi secretly believed that maybe he was immune to the flower's influence.

He was severely wrong.

You glanced back at him, instantly looking away when you caught his wide-eyed gaze. His eyes were so blue, so familiar.

You marched ahead of him, ignoring his quiet protests as you urgently sought out the cave. It came into sights quickly and your pace picked up, practically running towards it now. When you reached it, you discarded your top layer of robes, the heat your body was producing making it feel as if you were melting, and left your lightsaber by the entrance to the stone shelter. You feared what you may do with it when the flower's effects got even worse.

Obi-Wan followed closely behind you and watched with curious attention at your actions, slightly puzzled when you made your way towards the back of the cave and sat down facing the wall.

"Sit over there." You pointed over your shoulder to a spot far away from yourself. "I need to think."

"Trying to remember an antidote?" He asked, wondering what there possibly was to think about right now. And without his help as well.

"Sure." You sighed, closing your eyes as you took a deep breath. You weren't thinking about an antidote since you knew there wasn't one. You were considering your options. Even though you knew they were limited. Very limited.

He trusted your word however, which was mildly foolish of him, and took a seat where you'd instructed him to do so. He kept his gaze on you, fixated on the back of your head, as he observed your breathing pick up and then slow back down several times of the course of a few minutes.

What Obi-Wan failed to notice was how his breathing was in tune with yours, increasing when yours did and lowering when yours did.

It didn't escape him though when the flower's influence started to manipulate his body even more. The dry mouth, dull headache, rapid heartbeat, and hardened dick were becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. And Obi-Wan couldn't stay in denial for much longer.

So he called out your name.

Big mistake.

You jumped at the sound, having to bite your tongue to prevent noise slipping from your lips, and glanced at him over your shoulder."Yes?"

"I believe the flower is finally setting in." He decided that was the best way to put it and not that the sight of you was making him think things he hadn't even considered since he was a lot younger.

You looked at him silently for a second too long, eyes flicking downwards before moving back up to meet his again. "Meaning?"

His brows creased for a moment. "You know."

You did. So you turned back towards the wall and stared at it. "I'm thinking really hard about it, okay? I'll work something out."

Lies.

Time progressed slowly, moving at a sluggish pace that had you wanting to claw your way out of the cave in temporary insanity, and you could hear Obi-Wan's condition growing steadily worse by the minute.

You were finding it a lot easier than him to control yourself, probably due to your more extensive knowledge on the subject of simple carnal pleasure. But Obi-Wan was losing it.

You kept your eyes focused on the stone in front of you, desperately trying to ignore the sounds that Obi-Wan was making behind you. The breathless whimpers that were leaving his mouth were heavenly to your ears, creating a pulse that shook through your body regularly. Despite the sounds making you feel good, it was getting harder and harder to stop yourself from giving in and crawling over to him. Especially since you could hear him tearing off at least one layer of his clothing.

"Obi-Wan, please be quiet." You whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.

To the Jedi your voice sounded husky, tempting almost. "I cannot help it. Please help me."

His voice was desperate, almost whiny, as he begged you for some sort of assistance. If only he knew what that assistance was.

You squeezed your eyes closed, resting your face in your hands. "I'm trying."

It was a lie. You knew that nothing could be done. The passage from the book you'd read about the flower had been very clear. Death was inevitable. Unless you engaged with someone... intimately.

It was the only method that would get your bodily reactions to calm down. If not, the next few days would be painful for the both of you. You'd be extremely aroused the whole time, heart racing at a million beats per minute, sweat would pour out of you and cause severe dehydration that would be impossible to remedy, and finally your body would give up from the sheer exhaustion of trying to handle it all. Then, you'd drop dead.

Just how exactly were you supposed to voice that to Obi-Wan, the man who'd boasted about his ability to follow the Order's rules for years, that the only way for the both of you to survive this was to sleep together? And how were you supposed to recover from possibly finally having the man you'd wanted for so long for just one night and then never again?

"I can sense that you're keeping something from me."

Your head snapped up at his statement. He was correct, sure, but you hadn't expected him to pick up on it in his state.

So you turned around to look at him, legs crossed in front of you and back against the wall to keep yourself as far from him as possible.

"There is one solution that I know of." You confessed, still thinking of a way to tell him.

"Just tell me. I know it's troubling you. It's okay." Obi-Wan's tone was soft and comforting.

You took a deep breath in. "You won't like it."

"Do we have a choice?"

You let the breath out again. "Death."

He released a tired and humourless chuckle. "I can assure you that I'll prefer whatever solution you have to death. So tell me."

You debated what words would spook the Jedi less. Were you clinical and informative? Or soft and subtle? The sweat dripping from his temple, begging to be licked away by the tip of your tongue, was telling you to be harsh and raw with him.

Your gaze fixed on his mouth. "We have to have sex, Obi-Wan. Multiple times probably." The last part was added on for emphasis, meant to draw a reaction out of him.

He gave it to you. His already flushed cheeks reddened some more, eyes darting away from yours momentarily. It's not that the antidote was unexpected, he figured that it would lead somewhere like this considering the two of you had been contaminated by an aphrodisiac, but he thought maybe that there would be another solution. Or that you'd at least beat around the bush a little more.

Obi-Wan didn't know how to tell you that he'd never done something like that before so wouldn't even know where to start.

Little did he know that you were already well aware of that fact.

"I'll guide you through it." You paused. "But once we get started I don't think you'll need much guidance. The effects of the pollen will probably lead you."

His eyes snapped back to you, a frown pinching between them. "And what do you know of it?"

"Obi-Wan..." You mumbled, tilting your head down slightly to give him a meaningful look.

He didn't look thrilled at the notion.

You scoffed, annoyance bubbling at his obvious judgement. "We all have a past."

He knew what you meant. Sure, everyone had a past. He just didn't realise you had that sort of past. Still, he realised he had no place to pass judgement against you.

Heat pulsed between your thighs at the sudden wide-eyed apologetic look he was giving you. A groan rumbled in your chest and you squeezed your eyes shut.

"I see that this is hard for you." He whispered and you attempted to hold back a laugh thinking that this probably wasn't the only thing that was hard. "So, how about you come over here and... show me what we have to do."

You looked back at him, surprised by the boldness he was showing. Yes, he wasn't a shy man by any means but you thought he'd have been a bit less confident in this situation. Or maybe the whole thing would just be so meaningless to him that he thought it'd be easy.

Obi-Wan could feel random muscles in his body clenching as you stared at him. He'd never felt like this before. He'd always known that you were beautiful, it was impossible to ignore, but he'd never thought much else of it. But now? He couldn't do anything else apart from think about it.

You slowly pushed yourself up from your seated position and fell onto your hands and knees, too tense to stand up, and made your way towards him steadily. He was surprised to find himself practically buzzing at the sight of you crawling towards him, a ravenous look on your face. You stopped about a foot in front of him, looking up into his eyes through your eyelashes.

A hand reached out for you.

You took it.

With his help, you settled yourself over Obi-Wan's lap, a leg either side of his thighs so you straddled him. You didn't let your weight rest on him just yet, wanting to check in quickly to make sure he was okay. It was taking everything in your power not to start touching him all over despite your overactive brain basically screaming at you to do so.

His eyes moved rapidly, taking you in as he searched across your body. A hand landed on either of your hips, encouraging you to move closer to him. So you did, chest pushing slightly against his and weight pressing into his lap as you sat down. The both of you let out a sigh at the contact, pain eased for just a few moments.

It was then that you noticed you'd sat on something extremely hard.

"Is that a lightsaber in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" You chuckled, about to reach down to remove the weapon from the inside of his robes.

But Obi-Wan's eyes flickered over your shoulder to somewhere behind you. Slowly, you turned to see what he was looking out, a small pinch between your eyebrows, and saw where you'd discarded your own lightsaber earlier. What you were surprised to find was his lightsaber resting up against a rock beside yours.

"Oh." You croaked and looked back at him, eyes shooting to his crotch for a brief moment. "You are just happy to see me."

"The flower." He grumbled lowly.

Your heart fell momentarily, your face along with it, before you recovered and looked downwards towards his chest. "Right, of course."

Realising he'd made a fatal mistake, Obi-Wan placed a finger under your chin and tilted your head up to make eye contact again. "A combined effect of the flower and... you."

Your mouth dropped open for a second, dazed by his statement, before a smile blossomed along your face. "There was one thing I forgot to mention."

"And what was that?" His eyes were fixed on your mouth now.

"The flower's effects are stronger and fast acting if you are already attracted to the person you're with at the time of exposure." You leaned towards him closer, the tips of your noses brushing against each other. "I expected to feel the influence at least an hour or two before you did, Master."

A soft sound, somewhere between a moan and a whine, escaped his lips at the use of the title. It surprised you, you hadn't thought he'd be into that kind of thing. You didn't give him a chance to give you a real response though, the noise he'd just made finally pushing you over the edge.

You cupped his face in your hands and kissed him, thumbs swiping over his cheeks to wipe the purple pollen away. He let out another sound at that, this one more shocked, but equally as unrestrained. Your mouth opened just in time to catch it and swallow it against your own moan at finally feeling his lips melding with yours.

Usually, in the past, you’d have some sense of patience in this situation. But it’s like the feeling of his skin under your palms and his lips against yours, your tongue in his mouth, sent the pollen vibrating in your bloodstream. And before you knew it, your hands were tearing at his clothes, absolutely desperate to get them off.

And while Obi-Wan was a little more hesitant than you, inexperience slowing him down, once he felt how eager you were he could only join in on the action. His hands were soft, almost silky, like they hadn’t ever seen a day of hard labour in his life, and they sent warm bursts of electricity through you as they slid against your skin.

All barriers between you were removed in less than a minute, although time seemed to be flying now that you’d actually gotten beyond just staring at each other and ignoring all feelings your body had been screaming at you to address.

“Do you know what comes next, Master?” You questioned, wondering how out of practice he really was.

Obi-Wan seemed to pause, taking a long thought, before saying anything. “I’ve never done this before.”

“I know.” You said and he seemed both embarrassed and surprised. “That’s not what I was asking. Do you know what happens?”

“I’ve heard things.” He admitted slowly.

Up until this point you’d been trying to avoid looking down at his naked body. Sure, the two of you had been pretty enthusiastic in taking the other’s clothes off but neither of you had verbally stated what you were comfortable with actually doing. That didn’t mean you couldn’t feel every inch of him pressing against you though. Somehow in the tumble of robe removal, you’d slid forward on his lap which had caused your torsos to connect. And you hadn’t bothered to move back again.

You searched his face for any sign of discomfort, finding none. “Can I touch you?”

He sputtered. “You already are.”

“No-“ You took a deep breath. “Can I touch you… down there?”

You were hesitant to say certain words to him, cringing at just the thought of them coming out of your mouth and entering his ears. You shouldn’t be shy about this, having done this countless times before. But now you were doing it with Obi-Wan, someone you admired with the deepest affection, it felt different. A good different but different nonetheless.

“Oh.” The flush he’d been sporting across his face stretched to meet the tip of his ears and you reached up to tuck some hair back away from them. “Yes, you can.”

You could see that the lust the flower caused had taken over all rational thought as his irises, usually so blue and bright, had been consumed by his pupils dilating. Was this a good idea, you silently wondered? Did he truly want this? Or was the flos venerem speaking for him?

Before you had the chance to ponder over that even more, the animal instincts in your brain took over and your hand was wrapping around his, pretty sizeable, cock.

He hissed at the sensation of your warm palm touching him and you observed his reaction with hungry curiosity. You liked the way his eyes fluttered closed and his teeth sunk into his bottom lip, the way his head snapped back against the cave wall and he didn’t even seem to notice that it should’ve hurt. He was too absorbed in the pleasurable way that you were touching him.

You were touching him.

Obi-Wan felt as if he were flying amongst the stars.

Your hand slid up and down his length, taking in every minor reaction he gave you to see what he liked. The answer was: he liked all of it. No matter the pace of your strokes, the pressure of your squeeze, or the angle of the twist, Obi-Wan revelled in it all.

Every sound he made caused what felt like a flood to pour from between your thighs, skin prickling with flames of desire. You increased the speed of the pumps against his shaft, feeling him twitch in your hand. Obi-Wan started babbling to himself, something you couldn’t quite understand but realised were certainly happy mumblings. It didn’t take much more until he was orgasming, cum spurting out of him in hot ropes and coating both of your stomachs.

You weren’t surprised to see that he remained hard. At least the botany books hadn’t lied to you about the multiple times thing.

“Need you inside me now, Obi-Wan.” You whispered, pleased when his eyes seemed to spark with something akin to excitement. Pushing yourself up slightly, you took him in your hand again and aligned him with your entrance. Notching him against you, you inched down onto him slowly, feeling your hips stutter willing you to go faster, and watched his face scrunch up in pleasure.

“Does that feel good?” You asked despite knowing the answer. You just wanted to hear him say something, even a noise of approval would work for you.

He nodded rapidly and whined. “Yes, yes.”

Pleasure rocketed up your spine, walls clenching around him and he whimpered again. His hips bucked up underneath you and your eyes rolled back in your head.

He did it again.

You came.

A shocked laugh escaped your throat as the orgasm rippled through. You hadn’t realised it would be that easy but given that you’d denied yourself any friction and stimulation for way too long considering the situation you were in, it only made sense.

Obi-Wan’s eyes widened. “Did you just-?”

“Yes.” You sighed and rocked your hips against his, thighs still trembling with the aftershock.

“Stars-“ He gasped, head falling forward to bury his face in your neck. You smiled at the feeling of his beard scratching against your skin and moved faster.

Time became a haze, multiple orgasms rolled into a blur, and before you know it you felt like you couldn’t move anymore. Your legs ached, your body dripped with sweat and your breathing was shaky and uneven.

But you were determined for one more.

Obi-Wan gasped about it being too much but couldn’t stop himself from continuing to thrust up underneath you. Which you were thankful for considering you could feel your thighs cramping up and barely managing to support your weight. His arms locked around you, trapping you against him, as he pounded into you urgently like he was chasing something. He was really. And you could understand.

“Come on, Master, just one more.” You murmured against his temple.

It took only those words of encouragement for Obi-Wan to spill inside you once again, the feeling of that setting you off as well. And finally the two of you relaxed, the pollen’s effects wearing away.

The two of you sat against each other breathless for a moment before you eased up off of him and settled beside him. He immediately collapsed against you, sliding down until his head met your lap. You placed a hand in his hair as his breathing slowed down to a normal pace.

Now that the high had passed, guilt was setting in.

“What have I done?” Obi-Wan croaked, burying his face against your thighs.

You froze, knowing you should be feeling this same shame but not finding it in yourself to care. At least not right now. “It’s okay.”

“No!” He almost wailed. “I broke- I broke rules. Sacred Jedi code.”

“You had no choice. It was either that or death.” Tears stung at the backs of your eyeballs, willing yourself not to crack and break down. He needed you to be strong. “There was no other way.”

He knew you were right, a small seed of relief buried deep in his chest. He didn’t have another choice. But then there was another matter…

You continued to try to make him feel better. "The council will forgive you, Obi-Wan. It couldn't have been helped."

The Jedi could only nod in reply. That wasn't what worried him anymore, your logical argument had been enough to reassure him of that. What did worry him is how much he wanted it to happen again.

He glanced up at you. "What about you? Can you forgive me?"

You paused, hand stilling against the side of his head. "There's nothing to be forgiven."

"Please." He whispered against your skin. "Please just-"

It hurt you to hear the break in his voice. A man, usually so confident, reduced to this. All because of something out of his control.

You took a deep breath, stared straight ahead at the cave wall opposite you, tears in your eyes and a hand combing through his hair. "I forgive you, Obi-Wan."

A/N: I listened to Star Wars ambience on YouTube as I wrote most of this. Hope you enjoyed!

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