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kwanisms · 6 months

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Monsoon Season — y.jeongin

» stray kids masterlist «

➮ kumiho!Jeongin × f!Reader

wc: 17.4k (all of these are gonna be at least 10k so prepare yourselves for that lol)

summary: Jeongin has always been a bit of an outcast in his village being half fox demon (kumiho) until a kind stranger takes him in during a monsoon and gives him more than a place to stay for a few days.

genres/themes/au: angst, smut; supernatural and demonic themes, historic themes, s2l; non idol au, demon au, historical au (kinda)

warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, Jeongin is bullied heavily, physical violence, a building is burned down, Jeongin gets hit over the head with a branch by the reader, sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut!

special taglist: @yoonguurt , @anyamaris , @wooyoungqueen , @kpop-stories-21 , @xsweetelegantdiasterx , @kookthief , @stardragongalaxy , @millennial-fangirl , @blankdyean , @imwithurmother , @bangchans-angel , @oreoqueen , @yjeonginlvr , @zdgx1 , @shuxsoo , @s00buwu , @queenmea604 , @pochaccomin , @katsukis1wife , @linos-catnip

Join the taglist! »» Closes 10/30 @ 23:00 CST!

Strikethrough means I cannot tag you.

MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED.

AGELESS BLOGS WILL NOT BE ADDED.

a/n: I'm a sucker for Jeongin in general so there's that. He needs more content and I'm happy to provide that. Anitta is just a codename used by Jeongin's mother. it'll make more sense later what I'm talking about. it's a surprise, shhhhh! Thank you for reading and if you liked this, please reblog or comment! Also consider supporting my work through my kofi (link is in my pinned post). As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), unprotected sex (it’s a period piece and I’m not looking up ancient contraceptive techniques lol just use protection) first time sex, degradation (m receiving), begging, corruption kink, virgin!Jeongin, use of pet names (baby boy, sweetheart, little fox, etc), Jeongin is a subby whiny baby. Take it or leave it. If I missed anything, just let me know!

dialogue prompt: ❛ Have you never been touched like this before? ❜

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To a kid, the word orphan is often used as an insult from other kids. Jeongin was lucky that he never had to hear that word until he was much older. He was just shy of fifteen years when his father died from pneumonia. Old enough to be considered a man but Jeongin didn’t feel like a man.

He felt like a lost little boy who just lost his father.

His mother had left not long after Jeongin’s birth. His father had tried his best to explain to Jeongin how his mother didn’t love him any less. She just had a different way of doing things. She had things she had to do, tasks to see to and couldn’t take a newborn with her.

That was the nature of a kumiho. Others called her flighty, said she abandoned him but Jeongin knew better. He had her journals, gifted to him on his fifteenth birthday by his father on instruction from his mother. Jeongin had spent his free time reading those journals, getting to know his mother through her words. It was a surreal experience for him.

His father couldn’t tell Jeongin much about his mother other than that she was incredibly cunning, kind, and compassionate. He also spoke of her beauty. Jeongin had never seen a portrait of his mother and had no idea what she looked like.

“I see her in you,” his father often told him. “You have her eyes and her hair.”

Jeongin took solace in the fact that he resembled his mother. It was comforting in a way.

When Jeongin was finally thrust upon the cruel world at a young age, he had luckily learned enough skills from his father to survive. He knew how to hunt small game and fish. He grew a simple garden that was enough for one when he harvested it. He had spent time foraging with his father and knew his way around the forest’s shrubbery and other plants.

He knew which ones were food, which ones healed, and which ones killed.

Jeongin was able to raise himself, growing into a man of limited means and he kept to himself except when he needed to head to the village to trade his furs for other things he could not provide for himself, like clothing. He’d never learned how to sew as he had no mother to teach him and his father also didn’t know how.

So another morning was spent gathering the furs he’d chosen to sell, setting them aside for the ones he wanted to keep. And he packed some food for his trip to the village. His walk through the woods was always quite so early in the morning. The sounds of the forest waking up, birds calling out to say good morning as the sky lightened from deep indigo to a light periwinkle, the sun creeping over the horizon.

The first rays of sunshine had started to break through the trees as Jeongin reached the village which was also bustling, everyone having gotten up around the same time as he. He ignored the stares as he walked through the village towards the market, readjusting his bag as he trodden on.

He could hear murmurs and whispers as he passed but chose to ignore them. Sure, he perhaps didn’t stick out as much as a full blooded fox folk might, but his blond fox ears, hair, and orange eyes gave him away immediately. Folk around these parts didn’t normally sport such a contrasting hair color.

Jeongin’s father had told him he took after his mother after all.

Upon reaching the market, Jeongin looked around, surveying his surroundings and looking for the lady his father had always purchased clothing from. He spotted her and made a beeline as she was folding garments, setting them down on the wooden stall before her.

“Morning,” Jeongin heard her grumble. Unlike the rest of the villagers, this woman had always been kind to him as he accompanied his father, sneaking him sweets and other homemade candies when his father wasn’t looking. The caramels were his favorites.

“Morning,” Jeongin parroted as he looked over the linen tunics. His was starting to fit a little too snugly and the threads were wearing out. His pants would last him another winter at least. As he was looking over the tunics, he heard a voice as sweet as honey call out.

“Granny, I can’t find the skirts!”

Jeongin looked up in time to see probably the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen in his life appear before him. He stared, awestruck as she walked over to the old woman. She had waist length black hair that fell in soft waves down her back, half of it pulled back and secured with a comb. Her eyes were a chocolate brown, much different than the dark brown or black he’d grown accustomed to.

She was petite, smaller than he was, with a slender frame and a pale complexion. She met his gaze and Jeongin felt as if the world stopped moving. Everything around him seemed to slow, almost as if time was stopping. The sounds around him drowned out as he stared back into those brown eyes.

Her pale, pink lips pulled into a shy smile before she averted her eyes to look at her grandmother. “They’re in the chest, not the sacks, dear,” the old woman replied and waved her hands. “I’ll get them,” she said, brushing past the girl and around the cart.

The girl looked after her grandmother before stepping towards the stall. Jeongin managed to snap himself out of his trance and had looked down to resume inspecting the tunics. “This would look nice on you,” the girl said, brushing her fingers over a black tunic.

Jeongin glanced up, meeting her gaze and quickly looked away as did she. He noticed the blush that crept over her cheeks. “I’ve never seen you before,” she suddenly said, smiling as Jeongin looked up. “Are you new to the village?” Jeongin opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted.

“He lives in the forest,” the grandmother said as she returned, arms loaded with fabric that she dumped onto the stack of boxes next to her. “This is my granddaughter, Haneul,” the old woman said as she started to fold the skirts and place them on the wooden surface of the stall.

Haneul turned to look back at Jeongin. “What’s your name?” she asked. Jeongin was caught off guard and forgot to answer, instead just smiling and nodding at Haneul. She giggled as he realized his error, shaking his head before answering awkwardly. “Uh, I’m Jeongin.”

As the old woman folded the skirts, Haneul reached into a small pouch on her hip, glancing at her grandmother before pulling her hand out and quickly handing something to Jeongin when her grandmother wasn’t watching. Jeongin glanced down at his hand and felt heat spread to his cheeks.

Sitting in his palm were three wrapped caramel candies. The ones the old woman used to give him. He smiled, tucking them away in his bag before clearing his throat. “I need some shirts,” he announced. “Very well,” the old woman said. “What do you have to trade?”

Jeongin ended up trading one of his tanuki furs for three shirts, two light colored linen ones and one black one. He also managed to trade three of his rabbit furs for a new tool set. As he thanked the blacksmith he turned around and bumped into a body.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologized profusely, bowing quickly. The woman he’d bumped into patted him on the shoulder and went about her business. Jeongin was about to turn away when he caught Haneul watching him, an amused smile on her face. When their eyes met, Jeongin felt another rush of heat over his cheeks and waved to Haneul who returned the gesture.

Before Jeongin could turn and start making his way home, he felt an arm hook over the back of his neck, draping across his shoulders. “Well, well, well,” said an all-too-familiar voice. “Look what the dog has dragged back to the village!”

The comment was met with a cacophony of laughter as Jeongin held his tongue.

“Hello to you too, Baek-hwa,” he said monotonously. He glanced up at the taller man, noticing he was now surrounded. Baek-hwa’s friends were staring him down and Jeongin felt like this wasn’t going to end well. He felt Baek-hwa’s arm tighten around the back of his neck.

“What are you doing here, thief, I thought I told you to stay away from the village,” Baek-hwa said under his breath so only Jeongin heard him. “I’m not a thief, Baek-hwa,” Jeongin replied softly. “I just came to get some things and I’ll be going back home now. You won’t have to see me again for a long time.”

Baek-hwa clicked his tongue and shook his head. “You really should have stayed away.”

It didn’t take long for Baek-hwa and his friends to drag Jeongin away from the market and behind a hut before they started laying into him. His bag was torn from his grip and tossed aside as they landed blow after blow on him. Jeongin had learned from a young age that if he avoided trouble, he’d be okay but he knew that wasn’t always the case. Regardless if he stayed out of trouble, it always managed to find him.

He leaned against the wall, doubled over in pain as Baek-hwa’s friends goaded him on. “Kick his ass!” one laughed. Jeongin glanced at where his bag sat and then looked up. His assailants were too busy egging their leader on. He had a small window. Mustering his strength and taking a deep breath, Jeongin pushed off the wall, knocking over one of his attackers.

He snatched his bag and took off as they shouted after him. He may not be as strong as they were, but he was definitely faster. He was more agile having spent all his life living in the forest. They had no hope of catching him once he made it into the treeline.

Jeongin didn’t stop as he vaulted over fallen logs and through the underbrush. He made sure to loop around the long way to lose his pursuers if they were even still following him. He didn’t want to take the chance that they would follow him home and come knocking.

It was midday by the time Jeongin finally reached the front door of his father’s cabin, pushing aside the curtain that hung there and stepping over the threshold. He set his bag down and moved to peer out the window. He saw no sign of life and let the curtain fall back in place before he went about his business.

His father had been in charge of keeping up the home but without his help, the cabin was slowly falling apart and Jeongin didn’t know much about building. There were poorly made patches in the roof that barely kept out the rain and more than once, parts of the roof had collapsed. Jeongin did his best to make it work as he had nowhere else to go.

He was sitting by the fire, heating up some stew he’d made the previous night when he heard it.

A distant crash of thunder. Looking up from the fire, he let out a sigh and glanced up at the roof.

“Just hold out for tonight, please,” he begged the thatched hay. “Just one more night.”

The storm blew in quickly after that, dark, thick storm clouds obscuring the sun and bringing with it heavy rains and strong gusts of wind that whipped around the small cabin, making the walls shake and blowing through the cracks Jeongin hadn’t managed to seal properly.

Several times, he was afraid that the roof was going to collapse or a wall was going to cave in and then the entire cabin would crumble around him, trapping him inside.

Rainwater leaked through the shoddy patching, drenching almost everything under it. Jeongin huddled up in the corner as his furniture and almost everything was soaked. The only thing that saved him was the built-in table in the corner.

He had dragged most of his bedding from the bed to the corner, curling up in the only fortified, safe, and dry place in the cabin. It was here that he fell asleep, curled up with his blankets and pillow as well as his bag and the small box his father had left him. The only important possessions in his life.

The storm raged all night and finally blew itself out by dawn, the dark storm clouds retracting as the sun rose, almost as if shooing them away. Jeongin woke as the sun was climbing and crawled out of his cubby, inspecting the damage. His plea to the roof had saved him. The thatching had held up for the most part but it would have to be replaced. Jeongin wasn’t sure who he could even ask.

He headed outside to inspect his garden and was pleased to see that the garden remained safe and untouched as he picked up a few twigs that had blown in and tossed them away. His firewood stores were also surprisingly dry with only the top layer soaked from the rains.

All in all, he’d managed to survive another monsoon storm. As he was cleaning up stray leaves and small branches, Jeongin heard voices and looked up, his stomach dropping as he spotted Baek-hwa and his friends. ‘No,’ he thought. He looked around and darted inside the cabin, starting to grab things, placing them inside his bag as the voices grew louder and louder outside.

“Come on out, thief, we know you’re in there!” came Baek-hwa’s voice. Jeongin swore under his breath, filling his bag with as much as he could but he knew he wouldn’t have time to leave out the front door. He’d be spotted and then they’d follow.

He dropped the bag by the back window before exiting the cabin to face his tormentors. If he was lucky, they’d just beat him up and leave quickly and then he could leave. He didn’t know where he’d go but now that they knew where his home was, they would be back.

“There he is,” Baek-hwa said as he stopped, leaning against the fence Jeongin’s father had built to keep their small homestead separate from the forest around them. “The thief shows his face.”

Jeongin’s fingers curled in against his palms. “I’m not a thief,” he said, a little more forceful than he intended. “Stop calling me that.” The smirk on Baek-hwa’s face dropped instantly. “You raising your voice at me?” he asked, his tone low and dangerously so.

“You think you can just raise your voice and talk back to me and I’ll let it slide?”

Jeongin held his ground. This was his home after all. “We’re outside the village,” Jeongin replied. “I don’t have to listen to you anymore, Baek-hwa.”

The man laughed, looking around at his friends. “This is my world, Jeongin,” he said, actually saying the blond fox folk’s name. “You’re just living in it.”

Jeongin forced a smile. “No it’s not,” he answered, shocking Baek-hwa. Never before has Jeongin acted so defiantly but like Jeongin said, they weren’t in the village. Jeongin wasn’t afraid of them out here. Sure he was dangerously outnumbered but he didn’t have to worry about causing the village trouble out here.

“I’ve had enough of your smart mouth,” Baek-hwa said before nudging the friend standing beside him. “Teach him a lesson, Jae-song.”

The man next to him climbed the fence, landing in the garden and stared Jeongin down before advancing slowly through the small rows of vegetables, making sure to stomp on them as he strode towards Jeongin. “I’m gonna make you wish you’d never been born,” he spat, bringing his fists up.

Jeongin didn’t move, standing stoically as he stared back at Jae-song. “Beat you to pulp and leave you for the scavengers,” he added. Jeongin narrowed his eyes. “Your parents must be so proud,” the smaller man retorted, catching Jae-song off guard before Jeongin tilted his head. “Oh wait…” he said with a scoff. “They’re dead.”

Jae-song gritted his teeth and swung at Jeongin who dodged the blow easily. “Picking on smaller people and beating them up for the fun of it. What would your mother think?”

Jae-song let out an angry yell. “Shut the hell up!” he swung again but Jeongin managed to dodge it again, this time pushing Jae-song forward, using the bully’s momentum to send him running face first into the side of the cabin.

“And stay down,” Jeongin added as Jae-song fell to the ground, holding his nose and writhing in pain. “I’m getting sick of this,” Baek-hwa said loudly. “Grab him.”

Jeongin turned as two more of Baek-hwa’s friends hopped the fence and advanced toward him, also kicking and stomping on the vegetable beds as they went. “Two against one?” Jeongin asked, raising a brow. “How noble of you. Or is it pathetic that you need help to take me on?”

Jeongin ducked as two separate fists swung at him before kicking out, knocking one of the assailants down and rolling out of the way as the other aimed a kick at him. Jeongin was back on his feet as the one who tried to kick him, came lumbering forward. As he was about to take another swing, Jeongin dodged around him, kicking him in the backside and sending him toppling over the fence.

“Enough!” Baek-hwa said, climbing the fence himself. “I grow weary of this,” he continued, advancing in Jeongin, stalking forward like a panther stalking its prey. Jeongin kept his eye not only on Baek-hwa but also on his friends who seemed like they were going to sit this one out.

“You sound like some kind of villain, talking like that,” Jeongin noted with a laugh. “I grow weary of your games,” Jeongin mocked, turning as Baek-hwa circled him slowly. “I’m going to end you,” Baek-hwa growled angrily. Jeongin rolled his eyes. “Again with the villain talk. Come on already,” Jeongin said exasperatedly.

Baek-hwa leaned into his punch as he threw his fist forward. Jeongin managed to block the attack before counter attacking with a blow of his own to Baek-hwa’s side. “You little shit,” Baek-hwa grunted, reaching for Jeongin who dodged again, pushing Baek-hwa’s hands aside.

The taller man tried again, aiming a punch that Jeongin deflected before hitting Baek-hwa in the throat with his palm. Immediately Baek-hwa backed off, choking from the sudden impact. “Go home,” Jeongin said as he watched Baek-hwa stumble backwards. “Next time you won’t be so lucky.”

As the men helped each other up and staggered out of his garden, Jeongin heard Baek-hwa’s strained voice call out. “We’ll be back, thief. Watch your back!”

Jeongin watched as they disappeared in the forest and breathed a sigh of relief. Never before had he stood his ground against his tormentors. He was grateful for the few self defense lessons his father had given him before he passed.

Jeongin looked down at his mangled vegetable beds and sighed. He would have to go foraging and salvage what he could. He needed to pack up everything and leave tonight. He knew Baek-hwa and his friends would be back.

He entered the cabin, grabbing a basket and heading out into the forest. There was a berry patch not far from his cabin but the terrain made it a longer task of traversing to it. Once there, Jeongin started to gather some of the berries. There he also found wild carrots, chives, cabbage, and potatoes. He gathered what he deemed necessary for tonight as well as some for his trip and started to make his way back.

The sun was starting to set when he reached his cabin and he felt his heart sink and his stomach drop. Baek-hwa and his friends had returned but this time he was really outnumbered. He had half a mind to sneak around to the back of the cabin and grab his bag without being seen but just his luck, one of them turned and spotted him.

Before he could turn and run, he was grabbed from behind by two sets of hands, the basket knocked from his grip, and dragged over to where Baek-hwa stood. “Not so tough now,” Baek-hwa sneered. Jeongin looked around at the ten or so men Baek-hwa had brought with him.

“Judging by your entourage, I’d say you aren’t very tough either,” he quipped.

For his comment, Baek-hwa landed a blow, punching Jeongin hard in the stomach and causing him to double over in pain. “That’s for earlier,” he snapped before looking towards one of his friends and nodding. Jeongin looked up in time to see one of the men he’d fought earlier holding a torch. His eyes widened in horror.

“No,” he said, struggling against the two holding him. “Stop!” he shouted as the one with the torch lit the garden on fire before moving towards the cabin. “Stop, please!” Jeongin shouted and continued to struggle. “Everything I own is in there! You can’t do this!”

Baek-hwa smiled smugly as Jeongin’s father’s cabin was set ablaze. “Actually, I can,” Baek-hwa said.

As the cabin caught fire and the flames spread, Baek-hwa stepped back allowing the others to take turns punching and kicking Jeongin. “S-stop,” Jeongin coughed. “Please.”

Baek-hwa laughed cruelly. “That’s what thieves get,” he said as Jeongin collapsed to his knees, only being held up by the two beside him. Jeongin weakly watched as the flames engulfed his home and burned presumably everything inside. Everything was gone. The cabin, the roof, his furniture, his stores… his eyes widened.

His mothers journals.

‘No,’ he thought as he stared at the fire.

He hadn’t finished reading them all.

Jeongin struggled against his captors. They held onto him tightly as Baek-hwa watched the inferno with a smirk. With a strength he’d never experienced before, Jeongin managed to pull free from his captors, delivering a punch to each before tackling Baek-hwa to the ground.

His actions were so sudden that everyone was caught off guard as Jeongin grabbed Baek-hwa’s head and slammed it against the ground, dazing the man before he scrambled off him and pushed through the hands that tried to grab at him. He burst into the flaming inferno, shielding his eyes as he looked around. His bag by the window sat untouched.

Before grabbing it, Jeongin darted under the table, tearing through the blankets until he found the bag with his mothers journals. He grabbed it and got up, eyes landing on the trinket box his father had made sitting on the mantle of the fireplace. Jeongin dashed across the room to grab it, stuffing it into the bag with the journals before he moved to the back window, grabbing the bag and heaving it over his shoulder.

Tossed both bags out the window before climbing through. Grabbing the bags, he took off into the forest as the fire consumed his home, the roof finally collapsing. Jeongin turned to look back at the raging inferno as he slung the bags over his back. ‘No going back now,’ he told himself as he watched the flames dance before turning away from the sight and heading further into the woods.

He’d never been this deep before. Glancing skyward, he could see clouds were obscuring the stars and he could only assume another storm was brewing. He made his way through the forest, making his way down embankments and crossing streams as he continued deeper than he’d ever ventured before.

As he stopped to catch his breath, he could hear voices in the distance.

“I think he went this way!”

Jeongin’s eyes widened. Baek-hwa and his friends had followed him?! Looking around, he saw a small opening under a tree sitting atop the embankment he was currently at the bottom of. He scrambled up, making his way over and peered inside. He couldn’t see much but hoped for the best as he removed his bags and stuffed them through the opening before pulling himself up using the roots of the tree.

He slid into the opening feet first and wiggled into the space. It seemed to be some sort of den. Most likely abandoned but he didn’t dwell on it, instead kept himself hidden as he peered out into the forest. He heard footsteps overhead and ducked back into the safety of the small cave waiting for the pounding of his heart to subside.

He waited as the sounds of feet and voices continued around him. “Did you see which way he went?”

“No.”

“Maybe he’s hiding nearby.”

“Well we’ll never see him in the dark.”

“Maybe we should come back when it’s light out.”

“Enough,” a voice Jeongin recognized to be Baek-hwa’s snapped. “He couldn’t have gotten far,” he continued. “Spread out and find him.”

“How?” another voice asked. “With what light?” Jeongin guessed this voice to be Jae-song’s. It sounded like him anyway. “Here,” another voice said and Jeongin saw light flicker and dance outside the opening of his hiding place. Glancing back, he could barely see that this was indeed a den. He grabbed his things and scooted back further, hoping to stay out of sight.

He waited, listening patiently as footsteps trudged through the forest, twigs snapping underfoot.

He carefully crawled toward the opening and peered out. He could see two of the men standing nearby as they searched the area. “Find anything?” one of them called. “Nothing yet!” another voice called back. “This is so stupid,” one of the men said softly. “There’s no telling which way he went.”

The one that had spoken up before nodded in agreement. “I know,” he answered just as quietly. “But you know how Baek-hwa is. Ever since he saw Jeongin talking to Haneul, he’s just been set on making Jeongin suffer,” he added as he held his torch up, peering around a tree.

“I mean, it’s not like doing all this is going to impress Haneul,” he continued. “She doesn’t even like Baek-hwa.” The second man nodded as well. “I know! It’s like--”

What it was like, Jeongin didn’t get to hear as he watched a shadow cut across the small illuminated circle, passing both men. The second smaller one let out a grunt of pain and Jeongin watched in horror as blood spilled from his mouth, a look of pain crossing his features as he fell to his knees.

“Wonjae!” the first man said in shock as his friend collapsed, blood gurgling from his mouth. “What happened?” Jeongin watched as the shadow passed again, quick as lightning, passing the first guy who let out a choked cry of pain before falling to his knees as well, blood seeping through his shirt and he fell to the ground. Jeongin froze realizing he’d just watched something kill those two men.

‘What the hell?’

“Where are they?” called a voice, drowning out Jeongin’s thoughts. “Over here! Dabin! Wonjae!”

Jeongin watched as two more men entered his field of vision. “Are they okay?” one of them said as the other knelt down to check the bodies of their friends. “They’re… dead,” he said, his voice shaky. “D-dead?” the other stammered, taking a few steps back.

“What happened?” Baek-hwa’s voice called from somewhere above Jeongin’s hiding place. “They’re dead!” the one kneeling beside Wonjae and Dabin’s bodies called back. “Shit,” Baek-hwa cursed. “Get down there and help them get the bodies,” he instructed someone Jeongin presumed was beside him.

Jeongin watched as two more men appeared and helped pick up the bodies of the two men and carry them away. He listened as the footsteps retreated and pulled back as the area was thrown into darkness once more. He listened as the sounds of the forest came back and he could finally rest.

He tried to get some sleep but his mind wouldn’t stop. ‘What was that shadow? Was that what killed those men?’ He tossed and turned until he finally managed to pass out.

The next morning, he awoke to find light creeping into the cave and he could finally see. It wasn’t a huge den, maybe only big enough for a family of foxes or so. He had enough space to sit up. He could tell it wasn’t dug out by whatever previously lived here. Perhaps it was naturally occurring.

He gathered his things and left the safety of the den, squirming his way out of the opening and could see that it had rained the night before. He pulled a flask from his bag, filling it with water before he placed it back and stood up, slinging both bags over his back again. He started the way he’d been going the night prior, moving deeper into the forest.

He continued as the sun rose, stopping briefly to have something to eat before continuing on. He didn’t see Baek-hwa or his assailants again as he continued on. He noticed how the terrain started to slope up and he knew he must have reached the base of the mountain. If he could reach the otherside, maybe he could find another village where he could set up a new homestead.

He continued on, stopping when he heard a twig snap from behind him. Turning quickly, he expected to see Baek-hwa or his men. He was met with nothing. He couldn’t see anyone or anything other than the trees for that matter. Perhaps he was hearing things?

He turned back and continued forward. He’d only gone a few more steps when he heard another snapping twig. He froze again, turning his head around to see what was following him but again, he saw nothing. He turned back forward, but instead of taking another step, he waited. Waited for something else.

Another twig snapped, this time closer but instead of looking, Jeongin stayed still. He kept calm, listening as soft steps carried toward him. He spun quickly, catching sight of what had been following him. His eyes widened as he made eye contact with it.

‘A fox?’ he thought to himself. Looking back at him was a small fox with black fur and golden eyes. He stared back at it, expecting it to run but instead it stared back at him. He watched in awe as it took a tentative step forward, still keeping its eyes on him. Jeongin slowly knelt down as the fox approached, holding out his hand.

The fox looked at his hand and then up at him before its head turned slightly to look at something behind Jeongin. He froze, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. He tried to turn to see what was behind him but he felt a blow to the head and everything went black.

You looked down at the man, the branch in your hand as you breathed heavily. “Oh my god,” you whispered as the realization of what you’d done crept over you. You tossed the branch aside and looked back down at him. Looking at Clover who looked up at you, golden eyes judging you. “I’m sorry!” you said holding your hands out. “Look, I panicked! I thought he was going to grab you!”

The fox rolled its eyes and you looked away, back at the man lying unconscious at your feet. “Should we take him?” You looked back at Clover who stared back at you unblinking. You nodded. “Right. Leaving him here would be bad. Got it,” you said as you brushed your hands together to get the dirt from the bark off. Clover watched as you reached down, sliding your hands under the man’s arms and lifted, starting to drag him along the ground.

You heaved and pulled, panting as you did only to receive more judging looks from Clover. “Look,” you panted. “You could help me, you know.” Clover rolled their eyes again before the vision of the fox spun and morphed into a man. “I don’t know what you’d do without me,” he said as he waved his hand, the man’s body lifting from the ground.

You smiled at the wizard and dusted your hands off again. “Thanks, Clover!” you chirped as he shook his head. You led the way, skipping along the path as the man’s body floated behind you with Clover bringing up the rear.

You skipped faster as the cabin came into view. “Almost there!” you called out to your friend who rolled his eyes as your chipper demeanor. “You know,” he said as you started up the path leading to the door. “For someone who is so violent, you sure don’t act it,” he continued, guiding the man’s body after you.

“I’m not violent!” you called back as you reached the door and unlocked it, pushing it open and holding the door so Clover could guide the man into the room. “Just put him on the bed,” you said softly as Clover guided the man’s body over to the bed where he hovered for a moment before falling haphazardly on the mattress. “Careful!” you chastised, rushing over to sort out the man, moving his head and arms so he wouldn’t be sore when he awoke.

“You hit him over the head with a log and you’re telling me to be careful?” Clover chuckled as he stood by the door, arms crossed over his chest. “What a strange person you are, Y/N,” he added.

You stood up straight and turned towards him. “Well, I must be off,” he said, standing up straight. “Will you be alright, alone here by yourself?” he asked. You shook your head. “Right, just hit him with another log if he gives you trouble,” Clover said with a smirk. Your smile fell. “I. Panicked, okay?”

Clover nodded, waving before exiting the open door. You rushed over to watch as he headed down the path, turning once to look at you waving at him. He raised a hand before turning into a raven and taking flight into the sky. You shut the door and locked it before turning your head to look back at the man on your bed.

“Alright,” you continued, taking a deep breath and walking over, placing your hands on your hips as you took a good look at him. “Now, just who are you?”

Jeongin woke to the sounds of light clattering and the scrape of metal against metal. His head was throbbing. He opened his eyes, blinking rapidly as he tried to adjust. He turned his head, wincing at the pain that followed. He was inside a cabin of sorts.

He could see shelves with books upon books and a desk that was cluttered and covered with papers, writing implements, and an assortment of herbs and rocks. He tried to sit up but his limbs felt heavy. He looked down and noticed a strange purple aura encasing him.

“What the-”

“Oh, you’re awake. Good,” said a voice and Jeongin looked up, seeing a figure by the hearth where a fire was crackling, heating up a large cast iron pot. The smell of meat and vegetables reached his nostrils and he took a deep inhale. Whatever it was in the obvious cauldron smelled amazing.

“Where am I?” he asked as the figure turned their gaze away from him and stirred the contents of the pot.

“You’re in my cabin, what a silly question to ask,” the figure said with a chuckle. Jeongin watched as they set the spoon aside and moved towards the bed. Jeongin looked up as they approached and took a seat beside the bed. “What have you done to me?” he asked as the person, he could now see was a female, looked over him, gently turning his head and prodding the tender spot.

Jeongin winced and the figure grimaced. “Sorry,” she said. “I hit you over the head.”

Jeongin looked up at her. “You what? Why the hell would you do that?!” he yelled.

You moved your hand, your finger moving in a quick circle and Jeongin felt his jaw snap shut.

“Don’t yell,” you said as you grabbed a basket with some medical supplies in it. “It’s rude.”

‘Well, so is hitting someone over the head,’ Jeongin thought since he couldn’t talk.

“My name is Y/N,” you said as you pulled out a small vial. “And I hit you over the head because I thought you were going to hurt my friend.” You looked down at him and Jeongin felt his heart skip a beat. Your eyes. They were a bright golden yellow. Much like that fox from before.

“Do you remember the fox?” you asked and Jeongin nodded as he watched you pull the cork on the vial. “That’s my friend Clover. I thought you were going to grab him and hurt him. Foxes aren’t exactly revered around these parts,” you explained as you turned the vial over, allowing some to spill onto a cloth.

You set the vial aside and leaned forward, holding out the cloth only for Jeongin to shy away. “It’s okay,” you said softly. “I know your head hurts. This will make it not hurt.” Jeongin hesitated, allowing you to gently press the cloth to his head. He winced but soon, the pain as well as the throbbing went away and he looked up at you in shock.

You winked at him, placing the cork back in the vial and returning the little glass to the basket. You waved your hand and freed his mouth. “Who are you?” he asked softly. You looked down at him unblinkingly. “I’m Y/N,” you said plainly. “I already said that.” Jeongin shook his head.

“I meant like… who are you? Are you like… a witch?” he asked to which you laughed. “I’ve been called that before,” you answered with a nod. “But more importantly,” you said, leaning forward. Jeongin was unable to pull too far away due to whatever spell you had his body under.

“Who are you?”

Jeongin cleared his throat. “I’,m uh… I’m Jeongin.”

You sat back up straight. “Jeongin, huh?” you said softly, tilting your head. He nodded, glancing down at his body still shrouded in the purple aura. “What is this?” he asked, nodding towards the aura. “Oh,” you said suddenly, waving your hand and it disappeared.

“I just did that while you were out and I was busy cooking so you didn’t try to sneak up on me,” you explained as you started to stand. Jeongin moved quickly, sitting up and grabbing your arm but you were quicker. You managed to roll, pulling him off the bed and pinning him against the floor, his arms pinned to his sides by your legs as you straddled him, your forearm pressing against his throat.

“I’m not your enemy,” you explained softly. “But don’t make the mistake of thinking I won’t hesitate to kill you if you try to hurt me.”

Jeongin tapped the back of your calf, surrendering to your power.

Just as quickly as you were on him, you got up and held out a hand, pulling him up when he took it. “Let’s eat,” you chirped and walked over to the fire. Jeongin stood hesitantly. “Sit,” you instructed and he did as you said, moving to take a seat at the table. You grabbed a bowl and picked up the ladle, scooping stew into the bowl before moving to set it on the table.

“It’s hot, so be careful,” you said as you filled another bowl and took a seat across from him.

Jeongin watched as you picked up your spoon and took a bite. “It can’t be that hot,” he noted, to which you looked up. “Want me to throw it in your face and test that theory?” you asked with a smirk, tilting your head. Jeongin’s eyes widened and he quickly picked up his spoon, shaking his head.

“N-no,” he stammered before digging in.

He could tell there was meat and potatoes, maybe some cabbage and rice but it was delicious. He scooped another spoonful into his mouth. “S’good,” he said as he ate and you smiled, turning your attention back to your own bowl.

Jeongin had forgotten the last time he had a proper meal and ended up eating three bowlfuls of stew. You reached to take his empty bowl but he stopped you. “You cooked,” he said before getting up. “Tell me where to go and I’ll clean them.” You smiled but ignored his comment, taking his bowl.

“You’re still injured,” you explained. “Go lay down, let me deal with this and then I’ll look at your wounds.

Jeongin watched as you headed out the door and instead of laying down, he started to poke around the cabin, inspecting your belongings. He was used to the small huts in the village where he lived. Nothing this extravagant. Wooden doors that locked, windows with decorative frames were things he’d never seen in person, only ever heard of.

The cabin was one room, like his had been but it was much cozier. There were no cracks for the wind to sneak into, the roof was sturdy wood and slanted to allow rain to run off. There were four windows, two on the wall by the door, one on the outside window and one on the back wall over the desk, framed by shelving. The fourth wall wasn’t made of wood. It was made of rock.

‘It must be partially built into the mountain,’ Jeongin noted as he stared. The bedroom area was almost entirely encased in rock. It was unlike anything Jeongin had ever seen. It was an extremely clever idea as well. Using a cave as part of your dwelling. If only he had known to do so.

On the other side of the stone hearth was a large wooden cabinet with doors and shelves stocked full of cheeses, sealed bottles, breads, small bowls with salts and other spices. Hanging from an iron circle suspended from the ceiling were various dried herbs and even some small game. Rabbits and birds mostly. He inspected the mantle and noticed a couple portraits and a small trinket box.

He moved over to the desk, fingers brushing over the papers on the surface as he inspected them. There were a lot of maps. Maps he didn’t recognize, not that he was knowledgeable of maps to begin with. He looked up at the shelving, inspecting the books and their titles. He expected to see this sizable collection in a palace or something, not here in a cabin in the forest, built into the base of a mountain.

Jeongin turned as he heard the door open and you returned with two clean bowls and spoons.

“Having fun snooping?” you asked with a smirk. Jeongin opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water trying to explain but you shook your head. “I saw you through the window,” you explained, pointing to the window opposite the rock wall.

“I’m not mad,” you continued. “But I really do need to inspect your wounds.”

You led him over to the bed and he sat down. “I don’t have any wounds,” he protested but you made him lie down and lifted his shirt. “Your wounds are internal,” you explained as you gently prodded and massaged his side, making him wince. “You’ve got a fair amount of bruising here and here,” you said, also placing your hand over his stomach just over his navel.

“Were you in a fight?” you asked bluntly. Jeongin froze, staring up at the rocky ceiling above. You waited for his answer but when he didn’t answer, you spoke again. “Did you at least get a few punches in?”

Jeongin chuckled, letting out a soft cry when the motion caused his sore muscles to tense him. “You’re asking me about my fight?” he asked. You nodded. “Whoever did this packs a wallop. So I hope you got a few licks in, too.”

Jeongin smiled as you rubbed some kind of ointment and the soreness and tenseness in his muscles dissipated. “You’ll have to apply this until the bruising clears up,” you explained as you rubbed some more on his stomach.

Jeongin held his breath as your hand traveled dangerously close to his waistband. “Two times a day,” you added as you pulled your hand back, wiping it on a cloth and placing the lid back on the small metal tin and handed it to him. Jeongin sat up and took the tin from you. “What is it?” he asked.

“An ointment to help with soreness and bruising,” you explained as you gathered your supplies and set the basket aside. “I made it myself.” Jeongin opened the tin and held it up to his nose, sniffing it. He smelled mint but couldn’t tell what else was in it.

“What’s in it?” he asked, placing the lid back on it and looking up at you.

“Just some herbs,” you replied. “I’ll tell you how I made it tomorrow. Get some sleep.”

You got up and paused when he grabbed your wrist. Looking down at his wrist and then up to meet his gaze, Jeongin managed to blurt out “thank you.” The smile you gave him was one he’d never seen before, not even from the old woman in the village he traded furs for shirts or her granddaughter, Haneul.

“You’re welcome,” you answered and Jeongin let go of your wrist. “What about you?” he asked as you moved over to the desk. “I can sleep on the floor,” you said as Jeongin set the tin of ointment on a small table beside the bed. “What?” he said suddenly. “No,” he continued. “This is your bed. I’ll sleep--”

He didn’t get to finish his words as you turned in your chair and waved your hand at him. “Sleep,” you said sternly and Jeongin passed out, unable to fight the darkness as it passed over him, taking him deep into slumber.

The next morning, Jeongin awoke to find himself in bed but the cabin otherwise empty. He sat up, looking around and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Lifting his shirt, he saw that he indeed had some heavy bruising from Baek-hwa and his friends’ punches.

He dropped his shirt as the door opened and you entered the room, smiling when you saw he was awake. “Morning,” you said as you carried something in your arms. “Or should I say good day,” you continued as you carried the sack over to the table and set it down.

“Let’s have a look at those bruises,” you said as you walked over and took a seat beside him. Jeongin lifted his shirt for you to inspect. “Make sure to apply that ointment,” you said as you gently poked around the edges of the bruising. “It’ll make a huge difference in healing.”

You got back up and headed for the table as Jeongin picked up the tin and opened it. He scooped a small amount and started to rub it into his skin as you opened the sack. “What’s in the bag?” he asked, looking up occasionally as he applied the ointment.

“I went hunting,” you said nonchalantly. Jeongin looked up at the rabbits hanging from the ceiling. “What about those?” he asked, nodding towards the rabbits. “They’re small and we need more meat if you’re going to heal properly. Protein speeds up the healing process,” you explained as you pulled small game from the sack.

Jeongin finished applying the ointment and wiped his hand off on the same cloth you used the night before and got up, walking over to the table. He was surprised to see what you managed to catch. “Hunting and fishing?” he asked as he noticed the fish basket.

“I’ve been gone all morning,” you replied. “Up before the sun, in bed after it sets,” you explained. “Making the most out of every day. That’s what Clover taught me.” Jeongin smiled as you added the rabbits to the iron circle. “The fish has to go outside,” you explained and picked up the basket.

He followed you as you headed outside and over to a wooden rack where you had some fish already hanging. “How does fish tonight sound?” you asked, turning to look at him. Jeongin nodded silently before you turned back to the rack and hung up all the fish.

“I also need to go foraging,” you said as you walked back towards him, stopping at the bottom of the steps leading into the cabin. “Want to come with me?” you asked, looking up at him. He nodded. “Sure,” Jeongin said, stepping aside as you entered the cabin.

“Good,” you said and grabbed a sack. “Make yourself useful,” you added as you tossed one to him.

The hike to the spot was a short one and Jeongin was shocked to see the size of it. Not only were there even more berries than at his favorite spot but there were more types as well as all kinds of fungi. He watched as you pulled a small bag from your pocket and moved over to one of the mushrooms.

“These are really good when you fry them,” you explained as you picked them and placed them in the bag. “They’ll need to soak for a few hours but we can have them with our fish.”

Jeongin looked around and moved to one of the bushes. “Are these okay?” he asked, pointing to the berries. You turned to look at him and nodded. “Not too many though,” you instructed. “Maybe a sack,” you added. “There are smaller bags in the large sack I gave you.”

Jeongin dug through the bag and found one before starting to pick berries and fill the bag. Once it was full, he tied it off and picked a few berries to eat. “And those?” he asked, pointing to another bush. You nodded without looking. “All these berries are good to eat,” you replied. “Just a small bag each. I like to make wine with them,” you explained.

Jeongin got to work, collecting berries as you foraged for mushrooms and other plants. When the bags were full, Jeongin insisted on carrying both but you refused, reminding him he was still healing. The walk back, you asked him about his life, where he was from, where he grew up, what his childhood was like.

When you broached the subject of parents, Jeongin shut down as you walked up the path to the cabin. “Touchy subject?” you asked, unlocking the door and letting him in. Jeongin nodded, handing you the bag and watching as you moved to the cabinets. “I lost both my parents,” he finally answered.

“My mother left when I was young and my father died when I was fifteen. I’ve been on my own ever since,” he explained as you started to store the food you both collected together. “I’m sorry,” you said softly. “I lost my parents to disease when I was young. I was raised by Clover,” you explained, shutting the cabinet doors.

“The fox?” Jeongin asked, making you chuckle. “He’s a wizard,” you reminded him. “He was in fox form while we hunted that day. He’s awfully quiet in that form,” you explained. Jeongin grimaced as you turned to him, setting the bags of berries on the table.

“So he raised you?” he asked and you nodded. “Taught me everything I know. Built this cabin and left it to me when I came of age.” Jeongin looked around. “Makes sense,” he said softly. “I’ve never seen a cabin like this before,” he explained. “That’s because it was built with magic.”

Jeongin smiled as you set the empty bags away, hanging them on hooks.

“I have some work to do in the garden,” you announced. “Would you like to join me?” Jeongin nodded with a smile.

“I’d love to.”

After a quick lunch of leftover stew, Jeongin helped you in the garden, pulling weeds and pruning the bushes and vines. His garden was small but this garden was twice the size. It had everything from cabbages to potatoes and even pumpkins.

“This is a huge garden,” he noted as he dropped another cabbage in the basket. “Even for two people.” you nodded as you pruned a tomato plant. “I sell whatever I don’t need,” you explained. “Never hurts to have a little extra coin,” you added with a wink.

As the two of you finished up, Jeongin looked at you. “Where do you sell this stuff?” he asked as you gathered one of the baskets. “At a village on the other side of the mountain,” you replied. Jeongin rounded on you, holding the other basket. “On the other side of the mountain?” he asked incredulously. You nodded with a laugh and beckoned him to follow you inside.

Once inside, you stored your harvests away and led Jeongin over to the desk and pulled out a map from under the stacks of paper. “This is a map of this region,” you explained. Jeongin looked over it in awe. He’d never seen more than a map of the village and the forest. Your map had so much more on it.

And it was so detailed.

“Here’s the village you told me about and based on your descriptions, your cabin was around in this area,” you explained, pointing out spaces on the map. “Here’s where we are,” you continued, pointing at a small red x on the map. “The village I sell at is here,” you added, pointing to a black x on the other side of the mountain range.

“How long does it take to get there?” Jeongin asked, looking up at you. “Well, if you go around the mountains, it can take months,” you answered, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “But I use the mountain pass so it only takes a few days,” you added, pointing to two lines drawn over the mountain range connecting the two sides. “Who made this map?” Jeongin asked in amazement.

“Clover,” you answered, standing up straight. Jeongin followed your movements, standing upright as you walked over to the hearth and added a couple logs to the dying flames. “He makes maps of all the regions,” you added. “He’s a traveling wizard and cartographer,” you added as Jeongin stared at you.

“He stopped for a while to raise me here,” you explained as you stood up, brushing your hands off. “But now that I can care for myself, he’s back to traveling again, making amendments to his maps.” Jeongin shook his head as you moved over to the bedroom area, grabbing a small basket from the shelf.

Jeongin looked around the cabin. “So, now what?” he asked as you sat down on the armchair. You looked up at him. “Now we rest,” you replied with a smile. “It’s too soon to have dinner and I have some knitting to get done,” you continued, pulling out a project you must have been working on for a while.

“You can read any of the books if you’d like,” you said, nodding towards the shelves. Jeongin shook his head, instead grabbing one of his bags and opening it. He sifted through it until he found what he was looking for. The journal he’d been reading. He settled down on the bed, propping the pillows up against the wall so he could sit up against them.

Jeongin read as much as he could, absorbing his mothers words. He had reached the part of her journals where she had met his father and it was so enchanting to read about his father through his mother’s eyes. He discovered a new side to his father he’d never known. The romantic side.

Their courtship was long according to her and she initially rebuffed him as he was a human but he eventually gained her trust and she warmed up to him. After which, they got married, something Jeongin had never known. He thought it had been a short affair but the time and effort they put into their marriage told him otherwise.

He also learned that his parents had a hard time conceiving a child and that Jeongin was from their sixth attempt. He was the only one that made it full term.

Jeongin dropped his hands into his lap, the journal falling with it as he stared at the wall. You looked up at him. “You alright?” you asked, noticing he seemed catatonic. When he didn’t respond, you set your knitting aside and got up, moving to sit on the bed. “Jeongin?” you asked, waving your hand in front of him. That seemed to snap him out of it and he looked at you.

“You okay?” you asked, your voice laced with concern. He nodded, clearing his throat and looked down at the leatherbound book in his lap. “Yeah, I just uh…” he trailed off before looking back up but not at you. He seemed to be looking past you but not at anything in particular. More like he was staring off into a place you could not see. “Jeongin?”

“I have siblings…” he finally said softly and your brows rose in shock. “What?” you asked.

He turned his head to look at you. “Sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “Random thought.”

You glanced at the book. “What are you reading?” you asked. Jeongin glanced at the book and closed it, keeping his thumb between the pages. “It’s private,” he explained. “Sorry,” he added. You shook your head. “No need to apologize,” you replied. “I meant no disrespect nor was I meaning to pry. Simply curious,” you explained.

Jeongin glanced down at the book again before taking a deep breath. “It’s a journal,” he finally sighed. You waited for him to continue. “It’s my mother’s journal,” he clarified. Your eyes widened. “Oh,” you said softly, uncertain of what else to say. “And you’re just now reading it? I’m not judging by the way,” you said quickly. Jeongin simply chuckled before setting the book aside and scooting off the bed.

You watched as he grabbed one of his bags and walked over, opening it for you to see the contents. Inside were a dozen or so leather bound books, all of them identical. You looked up at Jeongin in bewilderment as he set the bag down and joined you on the bed.

“My mother kept extensive journals all throughout her life. She left them with my dad when she left,” he explained. “Dad kept them for me so I could get to know her if she never came back. I think he knew she wouldn’t come back,” he continued sadly. “I’ve been reading them since my dad taught me to read.”

You looked back at the bag. “How many are there?” you asked, looking back at Jeongin. “Around fifty,” he answered, a hand reaching up to scratch his brow. “I’ve read about twenty of them so far.” Your eyes widened as you looked back at the sack lying unassuming on the floor.

“What’s in this one?” you asked, tapping the cover of the one on the bed before you froze. “I’m sorry,” you said quickly. “That’s none of my business,” you continued. Jeongin shook his head. “It’s okay,” he said, grabbing the book and opening it. “In this one, she met my dad,” he explained.

“She details their courtship and marriage,” he continued, flipping through the pages. “She wrote that it was a huge ceremony and that the reception lasted well into the early hours of the next morning and that they were both so exhausted from the party that they never actually consummated their marriage during the ceremony,” he said with a chuckle.

You smiled fondly, watching him look over the words on the page.

“What was your mother’s name?” you asked, drawing his attention. “Well, dad never told me her real name. He knew her as Eun-soo but while she was in Japan, her name was Yuki. So I’m not entirely sure what she was really called,” he continued.

You looked at him again, studying his features. The fox-like eyes, the orange irises, his blond hair. It suddenly made sense to you. He was like you. He was fox-folk.

“Was your mother a kumiho by any chance?”

Jeongin was caught off guard by the question. He’d never been asked so directly about it before and as he looked up, his eyes met your golden ones and he knew instantly why you were asking. It was like a switch went off in his head and suddenly everything made sense.

Your golden eyes, the magic, being raised by a wizard. Well, maybe the last part wasn’t really all that related but in his mind, it still helped him to put the pieces together. You were like him, too. You were fox-folk.

“A…are you?” he asked softly, holding your gaze. He could tell by the way your eyes widened slightly that he was on the right track. “Or was one of your parents?” he continued, setting the journal aside. You nodded slowly. “Both of my parents were fox-folk,” you answered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jeongin leaned forward. “Both?” he asked in amazement. You nodded, shifting to face him. “Yeah,” you replied. “That’s amazing,” he breathed. “So you’re pureblooded?” he asked, to which you nodded. “Wow. I’m only half,” he replied. “Probably why I can’t do any magic,” he added with a chuckle.

You tilted your head at his comment. “All fox-folk can perform magic,” you said, drawing his attention again. “Wait, really?” he asked. You nodded, grabbing the journal from his hands and setting it aside. “Have you ever tried?” you asked. Jeongin shook his head no, watching as you pushed your sleeves up.

“It’s easy,” you explained. Jeongin rolled his eyes. “Oh sure,” he retorted but you pushed him gently. “I promise it is,” you replied. “It’s so simple, really. Come on, I’ll show you.”

Jeongin watched as you scooted onto the bed beside him, crossing your legs and resting your back against the wall. You closed your eyes, adopting a sort of meditation position. Jeongin watched but when you opened one eye to peek at him, you nudged him and he sighed, adopting the same position.

“Deep breath in,” you said. Jeongin followed your lead, breathing in slowly and deeply, filling his lungs. “And out,” you said and the two of you breathed out in unison. “Now, visualize a fire,” you said softly. “A fire? Why a fire?” Jeongin asked. “Ow,” he whined when you lightly slapped his hand.

“Okay, okay. A fire. Got it,” he said. “Wait, what color is it?”

“Whatever color you want it to be.”

Jeongin closed his eyes again, picturing a fire in his mind. Something bright and pink. “Now, imagine how it feels. Is it hot? Is it cold? Does it burn or does it tickle? Does it smell pleasant or is it rancid?” Jeongin imagined the fire was cool to the touch and it felt like the fluttering of wings. It had no smell.

“Okay,” he said. “Now what?” he asked, opening an eye. “Hold your hand out,” you instructed. Jeongin closed his one eye again and raised one of his hands. “Place it in my hand,” you continued and he did as you said, placing his hand in yours, palm up.

“Now imagine your fire and imagine it’s in your hand. Concentrate and picture your fire in your hand.”

Jeongin focused all his energy, holding his breath as he pictured the pink, cool, fire that fluttered. “Don’t forget to breathe evenly,” you reminded him. “Breathing is important.” He resumed breathing as he focused all his mental strength on the fire. He sighed, keeping his eyes closed.

“This is dumb,” he said. “I can’t do magic.”

“Is your fire pink and cool to the touch?” you asked softly and Jeongin hesitated. ‘Wait… is mind reading one of the abilities of a full-blooded kumiho?’ he wondered. “Uh, yeah. But how did you know that?” he asked. “Open your eyes, Jeongin.”

He did as you instructed and was met with your face drenched in the pink glow of a fire in his hand. The pink fire he’d imagined. He looked back up at you and then down to the fire in his hand. It was dancing, fluttering against his hand. “Are you doing that?” he asked and you pulled your hand away, conjuring up a bright blue flame. “I take it that’s a no?”

You laughed and the fires both extinguished as Jeongin lost focus. “I told you that you can do magic!” you said excitedly, slapping his knee and then pushing yourself up and climbing off the bed. Jeongin looked down at his hand, excitement bubbling in his stomach.

“I’ll get dinner started,” you said as you moved towards the door. “Keep practicing,” you said before opening the door and heading outside. Jeongin kept at it, conjuring a pink flame, making it dance and crawl around his hand as you prepared the fish for dinner. While it cooked, you made a side dish with rice and some of the mushrooms you’d picked earlier.

When it was ready, Jeongin joined you at the table and the two of you ate in silence. “Thank you, Jeongin said suddenly, making you look up, eyes wide and bewilderment on your face. “For taking me in after you bashed my head in,” Jeongin continued. “For caring for me and teaching me magic.”

Your expression morphed, a smile spreading across your face. “I couldn’t leave you out there after I hit you with the branch,” you explained. “Clover would have but I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if I left you to the elements. And besides,” you continued. “It’s nice having some company that isn’t Clover for once.”

Jeongin looked down at his food, cheeks growing warm.

“You know,” you said, tapping your chin thoughtfully. “If you want to stay longer, you’re more than welcome to,” you added. “I really enjoy your company.” Jeongin’s eyes widened. “Really?” he asked, trying not to sound too excited. You nodded, smiling at him. “But you might have to get used to sharing a bed,” you said. “There’s not enough room in here for another bed and I refuse to let you sleep on the floor,” you added.

Jeongin’s cheeks grew even warmer at the thought of sharing a bed with you but he played it off.

“Sure,” he said softly. “No problem.”

It was indeed a problem he later discovered. While the bed was big enough for two bodies, it wasn’t big enough for two bodies and a space between them. Jeongin wanted to respect you and give you as much space as possible but with the size of the bed, it put him right on the edge of the mattress and in danger of falling off.

The next day consisted of about the same routine, some foraging but in a different spot. You taught Jeongin all about the herbs and weeds you used to make ointments and medicines, showing him what cured certain ailments. Afterwards, he helped you on the other side of the garden where the bee boxes were and held the jars for the honey while you handled the bees.

The day after that, you took him fishing with you and he was impressed by the spot you had. No one else was around and as you sailed out on the lake in a boat you proudly told him you helped Clover make, the two of you sat in silence, rods propped up while you knitted and Jeongin read more of his mother’s journal.

He’d made it to the part where she was pregnant with him and close to her due date. She wrote how she knew he was a boy and how she knew he was going to take after her in both looks and mentality. Jeongin checked his fishing rod before returning to his reading. He heard you clear your throat and looked up to meet your gaze.

“So what else does she say?” you asked, nodding towards the journal in his hand. “Oh,” he said softly. “She’s pregnant with me in this part,” he explained. “She wrote about how she knew I was a boy and that I would take after her,” he continued. You smiled at him as you tied off and wove the yarn tails into the scarf you were making. “She also says she got a letter from a woman named… Anitta?” he said and looked up at you.

You merely shrugged and set your knitting needles aside, picking up the scarf and throwing it around his neck. “There,” you said with a smile. “It’s done.” Jeongin’s cheeks burned as he looked down at the soft garment. “It’s nice,” he said softly and started to take it off. “It’s yours,” you said, grabbing it and wrapping it back around his neck.

“I was going to give it to Clover but I figured I can always make him another and you need one now so,” you trailed off, smiling at him. Jeongin toyed with the material, cheeks burning as he tried to think of something to say before finally settling on a simple and soft thank you.

Fishing ended with the two of you catching a small basket of fish and Jeongin managing to catch a little crawfish which he promptly dumped back in the water. Once the boat was pulled ashore, the two of you headed back down from the mountain lake to the cottage to hang up the fish and settle in for the night.

You made roasted rabbit and potatoes and after dinner, you settled down with your knitting to start another scarf for Clover while Jeongin got to the end of his mother’s journal. He closed it, wrapping the twine back around it and got up from the bed, moving over to his bags.

He reached in for another, pulling the trinket box out so he could dig for the right one.

“What’s that?” you asked, looking down at the box. “Oh, just a box my dad made,” Jeongin said as he dug through the bag. “May I?” you asked, setting your things aside. “I’m kind of nosey,” you noted with a laugh. Jeongin chuckled and shook his head. “Go ahead,” he replied.

You grabbed the box and set it on your lap, opening and inspecting the contents.

The box was a beautiful dark wood with a soft lining. It was beautifully crafted and you wondered if Jeongin’s dad knew how much he could have made by making and selling these boxes. Inside the box were a few items, some of great value and others you suspected were more sentimental. There was a silver ring, a loose but rather large gem, some gold coins, and a silver locket. You picked up the stone to inspect and deduced it was a sapphire and was definitely worth a lot.

“This could fetch you a lot of gold,” you noted, holding up the stone for Jeongin to see as he looked up. “Dad found that,” he said, reaching up to rub his eye. “Found it while digging around the outside of our cabin to add to the garden when I was a kid,” he continued and held out his hand.

You placed the gem in his palm and he brought it to his face to look at it. “He thought the same thing,” he continued. “Thought we could sell it for some gold in case we ever needed it. I forgot it was in the box,” he added, handing it back to you to place in the box.

Next you picked up the silver ring. There was nothing of note about it. It was a crudely forged ring made of pure silver. “Oh,” Jeongin said, noticing the ring and grimacing. “Dad made that. Was trying his hand at smithing,” he added. “It’s ugly but he was proud of it. He made it himself without any help. He wasn’t much of a blacksmith. He was more of a carpenter,” he explained.

“Which is why the box is so nice,” he added, gesturing to the box in your lap.

You dropped the ring back into the box and Jeongin returned to his bag, digging for a specific journal as you lifted the silver locket. It was engraved with a simple fox head on both sides. You carefully opened it and smiled at the first portrait. It was of a young child with light hair. There was no mistaking this was Jeongin.

You turned the locket to look at the other portrait as Jeongin pulled the correct journal from his bag and his eyes fell on the locket in your hand. The other portrait was of a woman. An all too familiar woman. She had the same blonde hair Jeongin had, the same fox-like eyes. It was his mother.

“Oh, that’s,” Jeongin darted forward, his hand closing around the locket and closing it before he took it from your hand. “That’s my dad’s. Was my dad’s.” he said softly, looking at the silver locket. You shut the trinket box and handed it back to him. “Sorry for prying,” you said softly as he took the box.

“No, it’s okay,” he said as he brushed the silver surface with the pad of his thumb. “I honestly forgot this was even in there,” he added as he looked up and gave you a sad smile. “She’s very pretty,” you said softly, drawing his attention. “Your mother,” you clarified.

You tilted your head, offering him a playful smile. “I guess you’re pretty, too,” you added, noticing the way he averted his eyes and his cheeks turned peach. He opened the box and placed the locket back inside, closing the lid and setting back with his things.

After he read a bit more and you started to yawn, you called it and set your knitting aside. “It’s going to storm tonight,” you said softly as you got up. “I’m going to put the covers down on the windows so it doesn’t rain in.” Jeongin watched as you exited the door and returned to his book as you disappeared.

Outside you undid the hooks holding the covers up and let them down into place, securing them with the wooden rods that slid through two rings on the side of the cabin as well as a ring on the end of the shutter.

Clover had done some interesting things when building this cabin but as odd as they were, they worked. You placed the covers for the other three windows down, locking them in place as the wind picked up.

You also grabbed the cloth Clover had for covering the garden and hooked it in place with the four hooked stakes in the corners of the garden. You repeated the process, covering the bee boxes before gathering all the fish and bringing it inside to hang up by the fire.

As you closed and locked the door, you could hear thunder in the distance and Jeongin looked up from his mother’s journal. “We’re safe here, right?” he asked and you nodded, moving to stoke the fire and then joining him on the bed. “This is probably the most stable building in the region,” you explained as you settled down on the side of the bed you’d claimed and looked up at him.

“You can stay up if you want,” you said, shifting, pulling the covers over you, and getting comfortable. “Just try to keep the noise down,” you added with a wink which made Jeongin crack a smile. “Okay,” he replied. “I’ll try.”

You shut your eyes and tried to focus on sleeping.

But you couldn’t. Your mind was full of the portrait in the locket. You rolled onto your back and sighed, opening your eyes and staring at the cave ceiling. Jeongin didn’t seem to notice but when you sighed again, he looked up. “You alright?” he asked and you took a deep breath before sitting up and turning to him. “I need to tell you something,” you said, taking his journal and setting it aside.

Jeongin looked from the journal to you as you took his hands in yours.

“What I’m about to tell you might sound outrageous but keep in mind I’m much older than I look because as you said before, I’m pureblooded fox-folk.,” you started. Jeongin met your gaze and nodded slowly. You took another deep breath before explaining.

“Your mother’s name was Keiko. She was from a small island off the coast of Japan. The locals there called it Fox Island. She came to this land as a child with her mother to live in the palace of the king centuries ago. Her mother was a highly sought after healer and the king’s wife was incredibly sick.”

Jeongin said nothing as you continued.

“When your mother was nearing maturity, her mother overheard a plan to marry her off to the king’s son but her mother had heard that the first prince was a cruel man who abused those around him. She did not want your mother to suffer at his hands so she ran away, taking your mother with her. They left the palace and ran and ran until they reached the coast, hoping it would be far enough away that the king’s men would never find them.”

You cleared your throat and continued the story.

“Your mother continued to live on the coast, in a small fishing village for many many years and eventually, she grew into a great beauty. Many men tried in vain to marry her but her mother drove them all off. When her mother finally passed from old age, your mother left the village and traveled inward, hoping enough time had passed that the king was no longer looking for her and she was right.”

“The king and his son had both since passed and a new ruler was on the throne. Your mother traveled the land until she found this region and moved here, settling down in a cave in the mountains. Rumors circulated of a great beauty that lived in the mountains but some of those rumors painted her out to be an enchantress that devoured the souls of men. It was here my mother met her,” you explained, watching Jeongin’s eyes widened but he said nothing, allowing you to continue.

“Your mother and my mother became good friends and then… I came along and I can remember how your mother doted on me. She wanted a child of her own but she had no luck in finding a husband. It was when she’d given up hope of ever having a child that she met your father. I was a young child by then but I still remember the day she came to us, announcing she had found someone,” you said with a smile, remembering back to that day.

“My mother and father were so thrilled she’d managed to find someone who loved her. Someone she could start a life with. She wrote to my mother, telling her of the ceremony and the time after. She shared her troubles conceiving with my mother in those letters. And then, she got pregnant. And it lasted,” you said softly, looking up from your hands to find Jeongin’s eyes filled with tears.

“She gave birth to a healthy baby boy and she named him Jeongin. She wrote how she was so in love and she’d never known a love like that before. The love of a mother. She loved you so much,” you said softly, giving his hands a gentle squeeze. This pushed him over the edge and a small sob escaped him, the tears finally falling. You pulled him into a tight embrace.

“Why did she leave?” he whispered into your shoulder. “She had to,” you explained, gently stroking his hair. “The people in the village branded her a witch and she feared if she did not leave, they would come for her. So she left you with your father and she went north,” you continued. “I’m sure it was her intention to come back but I don’t know much else,” you added.

You continued to stroke his hair, rocking him gently as he sniffled. “Sorry I got snot on your shirt,” he said softly. You chuckled, patting his head. “It’s okay,” you replied. “I’ve had worse things on my shirt before,” you added as you pushed him back, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “I just needed to tell you because if I didn’t, it would eat me alive.”

You pulled him in, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “You deserved to know the truth about her. She was a remarkable kumiho. I really looked up to her,” you added. Jeongin smiled, reaching up to wipe his eyes. “Thank you for telling me,” he said softly. “And who knows,” you said suddenly.

“Maybe she left some clues in her journals as to where she went.” Jeongin looked down at the journal and then back up at you.

“Then I better get to reading, I guess.”

After the talk, it must not have taken you long to fall asleep because you were woken by the sound of thunder.

Your eyes opened and you noticed that it was mostly dark, save for the fire in the hearth. You peered over your shoulder to find Jeongin had finished his reading and gone to sleep as well. You lay back down, closing your eyes but another clap of thunder sounded and the rain whipping against the side of the rain made you realize what had actually woken you and it wasn’t the storm.

It was the way Jeongin shook each time the thunder clapped or the shutters rattled against the windows.

He’d told you how his home was battered by storms and he wasn’t able to keep up with repairs as he wasn’t a carpenter like his father. He said he’d grown accustomed to the fear that at any moment, the entire hut would collapse, trapping him inside.

‘He’s probably terrified out of his mind right now,’ you told yourself.

You turned over, eyes finding Jeongin curled up in the dark beside you. Sitting up, you reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?” you asked softly over the sound of the rain battering against the roof. Jeongin rolled back to look up at you. “Sorry,” he said just as softly. “It’s just the storm…” he trailed off.

“I have… bad memories.”

Your expression softened as you pulled the covers back and gently grabbed his arm. “Come here,” you whispered, tugging him towards you. Jeongin followed, allowing you to pull him into your space where your arms went around him protectively, his head ducking under your chin and into your chest as he wrapped his arms around you.

You gently stroked his hair, humming softly as you tried to drown out the sounds of the storm. Your humming turned into singing, trying to lull him to sleep. “What is that?” he asked, his voice slightly muffled by the cloth of your night shirt. “It’s a song my mother used to sing to me,” you replied, continuing to stroke his hair. “It sounds familiar,” he continued.

You nodded silently before speaking. “Your mother probably used to sing it to you when you were a babe,” you answered. “Most fox-folk know the song.”

Jeongin fell silent, tightening his hold on you as he nuzzled further into your warm embrace.

“Do you feel better?” you asked softly, smiling when he nodded. “Good,” you whispered, tilting your head to press a kiss to the top of his head. Jeongin pulled back to look up at you. Neither one of you said anything, staring at one another until he finally made the first move, closing the distance and pressing his lips against yours.

Almost as quickly as it happened, he pulled back, stuttering apologies and trying to explain himself. You cut his words off, taking his face in both your hands and pulling back in for another kiss. He relaxed under your touch, lips pressing more firmly against yours as he leaned into the kiss.

“Don’t apologize,” you said when you pulled back. “You have nothing to apologize for.” Jeongin pulled you back in for another kiss, more hurried and rushed this time. You didn’t fight it when he pushed onto your back or when he climbed over you, never breaking the kiss as he settled between your parted thighs.

You sighed against his lips, almost moaning when you felt his tongue slip into your mouth. He moved his hands, sliding them up to your cheeks and pulled back, breaking the kiss. “Thank you,” he said softly, his eyes looking between yours. “For what?” you whispered, placing one of your hands atop his.

“For saving me,” he continued, thumbs stroking your cheeks. “I now know it was you that killed those guys following me.” You stared up at him. “I’ve had time to think about it and it makes sense,” he added.

“So thank you for taking me in and for protecting me.”

You grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him down into another kiss. “You don’t have to thank me,” you murmured between kisses. “I’m sure you would have done the same in my position,” you added. Jeongin shook his head. “I’m shy and antisocial,” he replied. “I wouldn’t have gotten involved.” You pushed him back slightly so you could see his face.

“You’re not antisocial,” you countered. “You were tormented and abused. There’s a difference.”

Before Jeongin could say anything else, you interrupted with another kiss.

You rolled over, pinning him against the bed as you straddled him, directing his hands to your waist as you continued to kiss him. You felt him tense under you as you rolled your hips, grinding against the growing bulge in his pants. You pulled back to look at him, noticing the look of hesitation on his face.

“Was that too far?” you asked, fearing you may have crossed a line and moved to climb off him but his hold on your waist tightened. “No,” he croaked. “It’s just that…” his voice trailed off as he swallowed thickly, trying to find the right words.

“I’ve never… I’m a…” he was failing to form a complete sentence but you knew what he was saying.

You cupped his cheek tenderly. “You’ve never done this, have you?”

He shook his head and you smiled warmly, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “Do you want to stop?” you asked and watched as he contemplated it. Just when you thought he was going to say yes, he surprised you by shaking his head. “No,” he finally answered.

“Don’t stop.”

You pressed your lips against his, taking the lead. Your hips rolled slowly, grinding against him, eliciting the sweetest moans you’d ever heard come from a man before. “You sound so sweet,” you whispered, lips brushing against his cheek as you moved to whisper in his ear. “So innocent,” you continued, kissing down the side of his neck.

Jeongin let out a moan as you nipped at his neck, smiling before pulling back to look down at him. “Do you want me to keep going?” you asked, slowing your movements, enjoying the desperate way Jeongin whined and pulled at your hips, urging you to move.

“Y-yes,” he whimpered. “Keep going, please,” he begged. Instead of doing so, you climbed off him, ignoring his protests and pleas as you tore the blankets back. “What are you doing?” Jeongin asked as you nestled beside him. “Just trust me,” you said softly, reaching to turn his head towards you, pulling him into a kiss.

With the distraction of your lips against his and your tongue slipping into his mouth, Jeongin didn’t notice the way your hand moved down his chest, slowly until he felt your palm against the bulge in his pants. Moaning into your mouth, one of his hands moved to grab yours but you pushed it away.

“Are you going to be a good boy or will I have to restrain you?” you asked darkly. Jeongin let out a little whimper and shook his head. “You won’t be good?” you asked, cocking your brow. He shook his head again. “I’ll be good,” he blurted out and you pulled him back in for another kiss, letting your hand wander again.

This time, he didn’t move, only moaning as you started to palm him through his trousers. Considering how hard he already was, it didn’t take you long to get him begging and whining for more, his hips bucking up against your hand.

You made quick work of his pants, untying the string and sliding your hand under the waistband, your palm coming into contact with the hot skin of his dick. Jeongin let out a soft whimper as your fingers wrapped around him. “Have you never been touched like this before?” you asked, watching his face as he shook his head.

“Not even by yourself?” you asked, tilting your head. He hesitated before nodding. “I’ve…” he swallowed thickly. “I’ve touched myself a few times,” he answered. Your smile grew slightly. “Do you want more?” you asked, watching the way his brow furrowed as you stroked him at an even pace.

“P-please,” he murmured, hips bucking into your hand. You removed your hand from his pants, moving and pulling his pants down, throwing them to the floor before climbing over and straddling his hips. Jeongin looked up at you as you leaned over. “Do you want to stop yet?” you whispered, your smirk growing even more when he shook his head.

You toyed with the hem of your night shirt, watching the way his eyes flickered from your face to your hands and back up. Finally, you decided to not tease him any more and lifted the material up over your head, dropping it to the floor and allowing him a moment to adjust to your nakedness.

His eyes were all over your form, taking in every inch of exposed skin. You took his hands and guided him to your waist. “You can touch me, you know,” you said softly, snapping him out of his trance. “O-okay,” he answered, his voice barely audible over the sounds of the storm.

“Wait, I can?” he asked as if just registering what you’d said. You nodded instead of replying verbally and waited patiently as his hands moved of their own accord. His eyes followed the movement of his hands up to your chest, hesitating before cupping both your breasts.

His lips parted in awe as he gave a gentle squeeze.

He’d never done anything like this before. He had no idea what was allowed and what wasn’t or what felt good for you. “Is this okay?” he asked, looking up to meet your gaze. You nodded, reaching one hand up to place over his, pushing his palm against your chest more firmly.

Jeongin groaned at the contact, eyes flickering back down to your chest. Without a word, he sat up, his hand under yours moving aside. You pulled your hand back as he leaned in, glancing up at you for permission which you gave in the form of a nod. His eyes fluttered shut as he took your nipple in his mouth, tongue swirling around the bud.

You let out a sigh, combing your fingers through his hair as his tongue flicked against your skin. You arched your back, pressing your chest into his face as he gently sucked, letting your nipple fall from his mouth before repeating the same process on the other breast, one of his hands moving up to cup your chest. His other hand moved around to your back, hovering just above your ass.

You rolled your hips, brushing your sex against his cock and making him gasp. Your fingers in his hair tugged, tilting his head back to look up at you as you rolled your hips again. “How does that feel, sweetheart?” you asked softly, cupping his cheek with your free hand.

“S’good,” he moaned, his hands grabbing your hips, trying to guide your movements but feeling unsure of what he was doing. “You want me to ride you, little fox?” you whispered, leaning in so your lips brushed against his. He gulped loudly. “Y-yes,” he pleaded. “I wanna feel you.”

You took him in a messy kiss, tongue dancing against his. “You wanna feel me? Feel me from the inside?” He nodded quickly, eyes sliding shut as you rocked your hips, grinding against his cock, coating it with your arousal.

“Wanna fill me with your cock?” you purred. Jeongin let out a choked moan as you ground harder against him. “Fuck! Y-yes, please!” he whimpered.

You reached down to grab the bottom of his shirt, tugging it off him and letting it fall to the floor as well before placing your hands on his shoulders, pushing him back against the mattress. You allowed your eyes to scan his body, taking in his lean frame as you lifted your hips.

“Are you gonna be a good boy for me?” you asked as you reached between your bodies, taking his cock in your hand and giving him a couple of strokes, coating all of his cock with your slick. He nodded urgently, biting into his bottom lip. “I need to hear you say it, Innie,” you cooed, lining the tip of his cock with your entrance. He nodded again. “Yes,” he finally managed to croak out.

“I promise I’ll be good.”

Without another word, you sank down on him, his cock gliding easily as your walls welcomed the intrusion. Jeongin let out a long groan as you enveloped him completely with a sigh. You felt him twitch inside you and you leaned over, placing your hands on the mattress on either side of his head.

“You promised you’d be good,” you said, meeting his gaze. He nodded, blinking slowly as his hands moved to your thighs. “I promise,” he whispered. “Then you can’t cum yet,” you replied, placing a chaste kiss on his lips. “You have to wait until I say you can cum,” you continued. “Can you do that for me, baby boy?” He nodded again. “Yes, I c-can,” he answered.

You slowly raised your hips before sinking back down on him, his cock burying into your cunt. Jeongin moaned against your lips, fingers digging into your skin. “Feels s’good,” he muttered as you set a slow, steady pace, hips rising and falling, driving his cock repeatedly into your pussy.

“Such a good boy,” you cooed, leaning over to kiss along his jaw, making him tilt his head, giving you more access to his neck. “Letting me fuck you like you deserve.” Jeongin whined in response, his hands moving up to your waist. “Mmore, please,” he begged, gasping when you obliged, your hips bouncing against his. “Shit, shit,” he gasped, fingers tightening around your waist.

“Wait, m’close!” he warned. You immediately stilled, his length buried in your walls. You raised your hand to push his bangs back from his forehead, leaning over to press a kiss against his skin. “You’re doing so well,” you praised as he came down from the edge.

“Filling me so well. Such a good little fox.”

Jeongin whimpered as you rolled your hips. “Do you want me to keep going?” you asked sweetly. He shook his head. “Give me a moment more,” he murmured. You sat up, moving your hands to his chest, sliding them down to his stomach and back up past his shoulders and onto the mattress.

“Do you want me to stay on top of do you wanna take control, little fox?”

His eyes fluttered open, meeting yours. “I can take control?” he asked softly. You nodded. “You want to try that?” He nodded hesitantly, hissing as his cock slipped out of you.

You pulled him on top as you laid back, your thighs wrapping around his waist. He looked down at you, cheeks burning as he took in your fucked out expression. “Go ahead,” you urged.

Jeongin looked down, eyes widening slightly as they landed on your glistening sex. “It’s okay,” you added, drawing his attention. “Take your time.” Jeongin took himself in his hand, guiding the tip to your slit, watching as the head of his cock slipped past your folds, finding your center easily.

He groaned, watching as your walls sucked him in until his hips met yours. His eyes moved up, meeting yours as he tried to control his breathing. “I don’t…” he trailed off. “Just follow your instincts,” you said gently. He nodded, taking a deep breath before pulling his hips back, watching your face as he snapped forward. You let out a moan, eyes rolling back.

Taking that as his cue to keep going, he repeated the action, quickly setting a steady pace. It was different than when you were in control, he was able to drive his cock deeper into your walls, making you moan louder than when you’d been on top.

“F-feels s-s’good,” he stammered, his head falling into your chest as he continued to thrust into you. “Ah~ fuck, that’s it, Innie,” you encouraged him. “Keep going.” Following his instincts, like you’d suggested, he cupped his hand against the back of your thigh and pushed your leg against your stomach, sinking his length further inside you with a groan.

“S’ so deep,” you moaned, eyes fluttering shut. Jeongin kept his eyes open, watching to watch your face as he fucked you. He’d never seen someone so beautiful before. “Faster,” you gasped. Jeongin complied, his thrusts gaining speed. “Oh f-fuck,” he groaned. “M’gonna cum.”

You took him by surprise, rolling him onto his back during his momentary lapse in control. Without giving him a chance to regain the upper hand, you took his hands and pinned them against his head. “Gonna cum already, little fox? I thought you’d last longer,” you said with a scoff. Jeongin whimpered, his cock twitching as his orgasm impending as you rocked your hips with renewed vigor.

He tried to pull his wrists from your hands but your grip was too strong. “Don’t fight me for control,” you said, leaning over to kiss him. “You gonna cum for me? Can’t even wait for me to say you can cum. Pathetic,” you scoffed. Jeongin bucked his hips up to meet yours.

“Please,” he begged. “Let me cum.” You shook your head. “Only good boys get to cum,” you retorted. “You haven’t been good.” Jeongin shook his head. “I have been good!” he argued, moaning at the end of his protest. “I’ve been good,” he repeated.

“Please let me cum, Y/N.”

You chuckled, slowing your movements, holding his wrists tighter when he protested.

“Such a greedy little slut. Wanting to cum first,” you snapped, rolling your hips. “F-fuck Y/N, m’gonna cum. Shit, shit, shit,” Jeongin whined, hips bucking up as his orgasm washed over him. You slowed your hips as his cock twitched, Jeongin releasing inside you with a whine.

You sighed, your hips coming to a stop as you looked down at him. “Couldn’t even wait for me to finish with you,” you said softly. Jeongin opened his eyes. “S-sorry,” he stammered. “I tried to stop but it just felt so good.” Your lips twitched into a smirk. “It’s okay,” you replied, releasing one of his wrists to cup his cheek. “But now you’re gonna have to lie there and let me finish,” you continued.

Jeongin looked up at you, leaning into your touch. “That’s okay,” he replied, letting out a gasp as you rolled your hips, his cock still lodged inside you. “You’re in for a long night, little fox,” you said softly, taking his wrist and pinning it again before sliding your hands to lace your fingers with his as you continued to rock your hips, feeling him slowly start to get hard again.

“A really long night.”

Jeongin awoke the next morning to the smell of meat and opened his eyes slowly, blinking away the sleep and allowing his eyes to adjust to the sunlight that filtered into the cottage.

He rolled over, peering at you by the fire, cooking breakfast. He stretched his arms, whining at the soreness in his muscles. You chuckled as he pushed himself up, realizing he was shirtless. You, on the other hand, were fully dressed. “What happened last night?” he asked, reaching up to scratch his head.

You glanced over your shoulder. “Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten,” you said as you plated breakfast and walked over to the bed. Jeongin felt heat rise in his cheeks. “No,” he answered as you sat on the edge of the bed, presenting him with a plate. “I just forgot how many times,” he murmured, adding a thanks at the end.

You chuckled as you dug into your own food. “More than a few,” you answered. Jeongin looked up and then out the window. “How late is it?” he asked. You shook your head. “Not that late, It’s not even noon,” you replied. The two of you ate in silence, Jeongin thanking you again as you took his dirty plate.

“Where are my clothes?” he asked, noticing they were not on the floor where you’d left them the night before. “I washed them first thing this morning,” you answered. “They’re probably dry by now,” you added and headed out the door to retrieve them.

Upon entering, you handed the clean clothes to Jeongin who dressed himself in silence. “What do you plan to do?” you asked softly as you stoked the fire. Jeongin looked up and then down at his hands. “I’m not sure,” he answered. “I’d like to go find my mother,” he added.

You turned to look at him, a warm smile on your face. He got up and walked over to where you stood, his hands resting on your waist and pulling you closer. “But part of me wants to stay here with you.” You smiled, eyes shutting as he leaned his forehead against yours. “Stay here and maybe build a life with you.” Your heart swelled at the thought but it was quickly deflated by another thought.

“I think you should follow your heart,” you finally said, pulling back to press a kiss to his forehead and turn away. Jeongin opened his eyes and sighed. He looked around the cottage and then at his bags on the floor near the table where he could see one of his mother’s journals peeking out at him.

His mind was made up for him.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, pressing his lips against your shoulder. “It’s okay,” you reassured him. “Do what you have to do,” you added. Jeongin turned you to face him, reaching up to cup your cheek. “I will come back,” he said softly, eyes flickering between yours. “I promise.”

With his rucksack packed full of supplies you could spare and a map in hand, you pointed him in the right direction. Jeongin pulled you in for one last kiss, resting his forehead against yours for a few moments after. “I mean it,” he said, pulling back to look at you. “I will come back. Regardless if I find her or not.” You nodded, smiling and keeping the sad feeling lingering in your stomach at bay.

“Be careful,” you said, giving his hand a squeeze. Jeongin pulled away and started through the forest in the direction you’d pointed him. The last place you’d heard his mother had been spotted. North towards Mongol territory. As he reached the edge of your property, he turned to look back at you.

He raised his hand, waving which you returned and watched as he turned back and slowly disappeared from sight. With a sigh, you continued to stare after him. “You better come back,” you whispered to yourself, moving your hand to rest against your stomach.

Smiling to yourself you turned away and headed back into the cottage to tend to your chores, hoping Jeongin found what he was looking for sooner rather than later.

He only had nine months after all.

ⓘ Graphics made by me. Content and support banners made using a template by cafekitsune. I do not allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All writing and graphics are ©️ kwanisms.

#cultofdionysusnet #mfu-net #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #jeongin scenarios #jeongin imagines #jeongin fanfic #jeongin smut #jeongin x reader #kwanisms kinktober 2023

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yeonjuns-beanie · 9 months

Text

Licentious Affairs

warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, definitely dub-con, a little non-con, use of restraints, having sex with a demon, some animalistic behaviors, descriptions of blood, biting, degrading, hair pulling and i think that's everything

summary: you and dalton grew closer over the course of the fall semester. you sense a mutual feeling but still, a crush feels forbidden. on the night that dalton decides he needs to unlock all his memories for good, something possesses his earthly form and you’re left at its mercy.

a/n: when i saw the new installment of this franchise, something about him being possessed had me kicking my feet and giggling. this is 100% self indulgent bc I feel like this is so niche lol. it strays from the events in the film(obvi) but I hope whoever comes across enjoys and i'll get back to my kpop postings shortly :3 ~nero

possessed!Dalton Lambert x female reader

word count: 4.4k

pt.2

The breeze was crisp and the trees were warm bouquets of orange, yellow, and sun-bleached green. As you walked across campus, the leaves crunching under your feet you appreciated the change in season. Wrapping yourself a little tighter in your knitted cardigan, you pulled out your phone checking your notifications. Swiping out of your social media a message from Dalton popped up on your screen.

van gogh: r u out of class yet

y/n: walking to the dorm rn

van gogh: okay, i’ve got something to show you

Turning the volume up on your music and stuffing your phone back into your stubby front pocket, you continued your walk to the dorm. Your mind was scattering all the different possibilities of what Dalton could’ve found out. Since the beginning of the semester, his art professor had been unleashing techniques on him to tap into a deeper artistic space. Through this theory of unlocking, he opened up memories that were tucked away so tightly that he forgot they were his own. Throughout the semester, you’ve been forced to be around his revelations as you were his dorm mate, but you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t enjoy his company.

At first, you thought it was just you being good-natured and wanting to extend a hand to him in a time of need. But as his walls crumbled down you wormed your way in and slowly you found you guys becoming quite close. Opening the main doors to your dorm building the way the air felt never failed to bother you. The brick walls made it constantly humid and it was borderline suffocating with how many bodies passed through the day. Dragging your feet across the floor, you began to feel the day place its weight on your body. You felt another vibration in your pocket but ignored it, deciding to look at the notification once you got settled in.

Opening the door to your room, you were met with Dalton hunched over the canvas of his current piece. He was so focused on the painting that he didn’t hear you come in until the door clicked shut. You dropped your bag on the floor and he finally looked up.

“Hey. Didn’t hear you come in.”

“Yeah, you looked pretty focused on that freaky ass painting.”

“If not for this freaky ass painting, I’d still be “boring.”’

Flopping onto your bed, you chuckled remembering the first interaction you guys had with each other. You so desperately were trying to break the ice with your roommate and least to say it was the smallest bit painful getting some info out of him. As Dalton added the last few strokes of creativity, he put down his brush and wiped his hands off with a rag. Meanwhile, you were getting lost in his every move. You were tracing him, the way he moved, really just the way he existed. Losing yourself in your thoughts you didn’t hear him calling your name.

“Y/n…y/n? Are you even here right now?” “Huh?- Sorry was spacing out, long day.”

You were praying that somehow he wouldn’t think too much of it and just pass it off as you disassociating and not internally doting on him. You sat up as he walked over to your bed, the mattress shifting as he sat.

“So you know how we learned I can astral project right?”

You nodded and raised your eyebrows urging him to go on.

“Well, I think, whatever I’m remembering–if I finish that painting I’ll remember everything.”

You looked at him, brows furrowing and your eyes showing an incredulous type of fear. Memories from the last time he projected flooded your mind. Whatever was stalking that other plane had it out not only for Dalton but for anyone in his vicinity. It left you stricken, but subconsciously you knew you couldn’t leave Dalton to deal with it alone.

“You wanna…go back again?”

“I think it’s my only option y/n.”

You sighed knowing there was really nothing you could do to get him to think otherwise. You stared off toward the cryptic painting searching your brain for a solution that didn’t involve him going back to that other world. Nodding, more towards yourself, you looked back at Dalton.

“Okay. When are we doing this?”

There was a small flash of a ‘thank you’ that graced his features. The relationship you shared was beyond the parameters of normal but it was exactly that that allowed you guys to grow so close with one another so quickly. He let out a sigh a dour expression taking over.

“Tonight.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line forcing yourself to become comfortable with the reality of the situation. Slightly nodding, you stood up grabbing your bag from the floor.

“Alright. I’ll be right back. Just gonna run and grab some fairy lights so I can have some source of light in here while you play Sherlock Holmes in the upside down.”

Dalton cracked a smile, a small chuckle escaping him. It was something that softened the heaviness of the situation, lifting the tension not only between you two but for your anxieties. It also made something flutter in your stomach, something you’ve desperately been trying to swallow scared of what would happen if he were to find out. You were about to open the door but a hand on your shoulder stopped you.

“Your phone.”

A gentle smile stretched across his face and there was something softer about him in this particular moment. Maybe it was the knowledge of the impending doom that would ensue in a few hours or maybe it was just two people being vulnerable. You weren’t sure what came over you but the urge to hug him was impossible to pass over and your body moved faster than your mind could react. Your arms wrapped around him finding relief and comfort in him returning the gesture so quickly.

Pulling away from him you found a certain softness swimming in his eyes that you never noticed before. Feeling slightly overwhelmed and bashful you fiddled with your fingertips attempting to wash away the anxiety that was running through you.

“Thanks. I won’t be too long.”

Dalton nodded and you slipped out of the doorway. As you walked down the hallway to leave the building you were fighting a more than enthusiastic grin as you felt those same pesky feelings flutter through your being. If only you had a similar gift to Dalton’s you’d be able to see that he was feeling the exact same way. As soon as you left the dorm he sat back on his bed, his hands trying to wipe away the elation he felt from the hug you shared. He was fighting a similar demon as your own, the fabrication of feelings–a crush.

As he laid back on his bed he was running through all his favorite parts of you, something that he didn’t think he could say out loud. His mind was in too many places at once, going back and forth between the budding feelings he felt for you and the unfortunate calamity that he was going to have to face not long after you came back.

Coming out of the corner store, you were surprised by how fast the sun began to tuck behind the mountains. You had an interesting relationship with the fall season, loving how the weather changed and the natural warmness that fall carried. By the same token though, you wished daylight lasted a bit longer, especially tonight. You wished the sun would never set so neither one of you would have to experience the ire that attaches itself to Dalton when the night approaches.

When you got back into the dorm building, there was a formidable sense of dread that you felt settle in your stomach. You tried to brush it off as anxiety now that the navy blanket of night was cast over the sky, but as you approached your dorm the feeling only worsened. Taking a deep breath as you turned the handle of the door, you exhaled as you entered the room, dropping your bag by the door and tossing the bag of lights on your bed.

You were about to announce your arrival to Dalton but were surprised to find him asleep on his bed. You were gone for maybe half an hour so you didn’t think he’d be too deep in sleep. Admiring his form you quelled your thoughts by grabbing the box of lights out of the grocery bag and began to unravel them while calling out to Dalton.

“Dalton…Dalton.”

Plugging the lights in the wall, you called for him one more time before deciding to walk over and shake him up. But when you turned around, he was already sitting up on his bed. It spooked you because you didn’t hear him move.

“Jesus! Make a noise or you know, yawn or something. Scared the shit outta me.” You nervously giggled. That sickly feeling found its way back in your stomach again and you couldn’t quite figure out why. Moving the string of lights around your bed, you found Dalton being more quiet than usual and you ruled that to be the reason why your stomach was turning in knots.

“You alright man? You’re being more weird than usual.”

Silence. Crippling silence.

Chills ran up your body and you tried desperately to feel some sense of normality about the situation. Dalton got up from his bed and walked over to his canvas, running his fingers over the freshly dried paint. He forced some extra air out of his nose somewhat resembling something of a laugh. You kept yourself on high alert as you walked over to your bag to grab your phone. As you got your phone and turned around your eyes met Dalton’s frame huddled in the corner of the room closest to your bed.

The way the string of lights illuminated him caused that sinking feeling to turn into something more dire. You started to go beyond the safety of things just being “weird” and recognized it was fear settling into your bones. Dalton’s shoulders were quivering almost resembling what a laugh would look like but no noise was coming out.

“Dalton, what’s going on? You’re freaking me out.”

Ignoring your intuition, you slowly walked over to him, hoping that the lights would let you see something that you were missing from your distance away from him. You left a couple feet in between you two and you called out to him again, only this time he turned his head slowly in your direction. Any rumination of worry about your friend was quickly replaced with terror once his head turned enough for you to see his eyes. They weren’t his own. They were yellow and held malicious intent.

You wanted to stand your ground but the gasp that left you made a sound before you could stop it. You watched a smirk grow on Dalton’s face and as you broke your chains of frozen fear, you turned around in an attempt to reach the door. Before you could take your second step towards your escape, your feet left the safety of the ground and your body was flung through the air.

Hitting the art wall adjacent to Dalton’s bed your body flopped onto his bed, a shield of sheets as your protection. In a poor attempt to quickly figure out an escape you instead were met with the evil incarnate of Dalton. Your heart was pounding, fear and a dread of the unknown at the forefront of your mind. His frame was looming, staring you down like fresh prey. You gripped the bed sheets staring him down trying to convince yourself you weren’t fearful. Your plan was successful, but the longer you looked at him the easier it became for something more sinister to eclipse your emotions.

Lust.

A salacious intent swapping out the fear of him for the fear of yourself and your own emotions. Why were you feeling this? Could whatever was using Dalton as a vessel hear your thoughts? How could you look at him the same way after this? All of your questions were pushed to the back of your mind as the door to your dorm slowly opened and Dalton turned towards it. You saw nothing in the doorway but almost like a warning, a low timbre shriek echoed from his throat as a bloody goop tumbled out of his mouth.

Whatever was entering the door from the other side left, the door clicking shut and his attention was unfortunately back on you. With a feeble bid, you hoped that calling to Dalton would release him of whatever had a hold on him. As Dalton turned around to grab the cord of lights from the wall, the way he stalked back over to you sent a familiar feeling to pool in your stomach.

“Dalton…I know you’re in there. Dal-”

“-To be face to face with what was keeping me from him recently was not what I expected to see. Nor did I expect it to be so filthy.”

It felt like someone was trying to steal your heart from its chest. There was a certain grit to his tone that was not Dalton’s and you weren’t quite sure if it frightened you or excited you. As he wrapped the cord around his hand he stalked closer to you on the bed.

“Most would be terrified in a situation like this, but you? I can smell you. It’s hard to ignore really.”

You backed further to the wall suddenly facing the reality of your situation. Your heart sped up but not out of fear. The closer he got the more aroused you became but you didn’t want to admit that to yourself just yet. Before you had an understanding of what was going on in front of you, your wrists were taken and tied to the bedpost with the cord Dalton was winding up.

“No!”

A sudden urge to fight back, you weren’t sure if this was something you wanted under the given circumstances. As you tried to push back against the cord, an unseen force was pinning your body to the bed. Your vision was obstructed by the fabric of Dalton’s baggy long sleeve but the overwhelming feeling of arousal was something you couldn’t ignore when he moved to face you and you looked directly into his yellowed eyes.

His hand snaked down the front of your body leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. It was a twisted feeling, you dreamt of a moment like this but with the given situation you were struggling if it was right. As his hand toyed with the button of your jeans any doubt about the situation was pushed to the back of your mind and a gritty tone echoed in the silence of the room.

“It’s funny. Hearing you think you have enough strength to deny yourself pleasure.”

You arched your eyebrow confused by his admission. He took heed of this and answered before you had a chance to vocalize your thoughts. He leaned forward stalking over your body before he placed himself next to the shell of your ear.

“Your thoughts are so loud. Louder than his–if only…he could be the one to see you like this. He’s wished for it.” He pulled away grinning at you in a way that made your walls flutter around nothing. You wondered if the confession of your Dalton “wishing for it” was real or just something the entity used to get under your skin.

You didn’t have much time to think on the matter as your heart rate picked up again at the unfortunate realization that you, were enjoying this. The smirk that rested on Dalton’s face let you in on the sadistic pleasure of whatever was taking control of him was feeling. Before Dalton moved away from the shell of your ear, he took a deep inhale of the scent of your neck.

Humming in relish, he nipped at your earlobe gingerly pulling at the skin as he snaked down your body once more. You wish you had more control but the whimper that left your throat was something instinctive. As this primal version of Dalton reached your hips, your zipper was quickly unfastened and your pants were tossed to the other side of the room

Dalton moved his legs so that he was no longer straddling your own and situated himself in between them. Sliding toward the edge of the bed, he slid down enough to be face first with your messy cunt. Your desire soaking through the fabric leaving no room for doubt in your feelings. Shoving his nose into your drenched panties, he huffed the scent of you a second time causing you to squirm away from the action.

Closing your eyes and rolling your lips around your teeth, you tried to silence your whines to collect yourself. Once again trying to convince yourself that you had more power over your bodily wants and needs.

“Stop, please.”

Your plea was met with a sardonic giggle and as you looked down and was met with the sick glow of his yellow eyes. Dalton stalked back up your body, hovering over your face and clicking his tongue at you mockingly. As you were entranced by the figure above you, you failed to realize that he unbound your wrists from the cord. The sudden freedom surprised you but was swallowed by the feeling of his hand slithering in your panties and rubbing his finger across your slick folds.

Your body shuddered in hedonism, rolling your hips up into the feeling. As one finger slipped its way into your slick cavern your hands found solace in fisting the sheets. As he entered a second finger you couldn’t contain your sounds.

“Ah~! I can’t believe this is happening. I can’tbelievethisishappening.”

In your stupor of sexual panic, a low chuckle brought you back down to your body. His fingers curled inside of you repeatedly hitting the special spongey spot you cherished so much. As your moans became more frequent and less controlled, he removed his fingers from your pulsating hole and ripped your panties off of your sensitive frame. You whined out not only at the loss of contact but at the sudden cool air that breezed over your skin. Settling into your body you were panting heavily as you stared down Dalton.

His yellowed eyes still igniting fear but simultaneously leaving you wanton and in a state of ache. That conflicting feeling flooded your brain again and soon felt guilt peering over the horizon. Before you were given the chance to wrestle with your thoughts, Dalton straddled himself over your body. One hand grabbed your face, squeezing your cheeks to pry your mouth open just enough to shove his fingers into your mouth. He looked down at you, a small smirk adorning his face.

“Suck.”

Overwhelmed by the sudden roughness you complied immediately not wanting to make the situation even more escalated. Your eyebrows furrow, your face plagued with anxiety as you watch Dalton come closer to your face. The leftover stain of blood that was on his chin smeared across your lower cheek as his breath fanned over your skin leaving your body wanting more. As he removed his fingers from your mouth, he licks from your chip up to the tip of your nose. Dalton pulls away slightly so he can get a better look at your face as a venomous smile pulls at his.

He takes the hand that was holding your face and drags it down the side of your cheek as he exhales a phrase that would chill your bones.

“Everything I’m going to do to you…he wishes he could do himself.”

The anxiety you felt prior was beginning to trickle back in as you realized the tank top you were wearing underneath the cardigan provided you little safety from the one above. Dalton’s hands slid up your torso underneath your tank top, his hands massaging over the soft flesh of your breast. Undoing the front clasp, your tits pancaked out of the fabric only for one to be caught by Dalton’s rough hand and the other encased by his lips.

You tried to keep a coherent thought, to push back against him but you lacked the mental will due to the rapture spidering through your body. As his mouth left your nipple, the cold air sent shivers through your chest and rippled down your back as his lips savagely placed open mouth kisses along your jawline, nipping at your skin with each release.

Caught up in the feeling you almost blocked out the sound of his belt becoming undone. But as soon as you were aware, the time to react had come to pass. His cock, hard and heavy was pulled out from the layers of fabric and you felt it tap against your inner thigh. You were suddenly hyperaware of how exposed you were and the understanding of what was about to happen next rushed through you.

“W-wait! I don’t, I can’t I~ah! Fuck!”

Before you had the chance to form a coherent thought, his cock entered your seraphic walls and his teeth bit at the skin on your neck. A mark that would surely leave a stain in the aftermath. Having already been overstimulated by the situation itself, the stretch of his cock was horrifically sinful. You couldn’t help the fluttering of your walls as he rocked his length in and out of you at a harrowing pace.

As he finally let go of your neck he huffed out in the intersection of your neck and shoulder. His exhales made your skin humid and left you with another layer of unwanted pleasure. Trying to bring yourself back down to your body, your hand released the binding grip it had on the bedsheets and sought refuge in Dalton’s sweatshirt, something proving to be a mistake.

A low growl erupted from Dalton’s throat and before you could register what was happening, he had pulled himself out of you and manhandled you to get on your hands and knees.

“What made you think that you could touch me, hmm?”

Like a viper his hand webbed itself in your hair, gripping it at the base and pulling your body up. Adrenaline pumping, you were searching for a viable response but came up with nothing but babbles.

“I-I don’t, I don’t know. I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

He controlled the movements of your head, forcing you to crane your neck and stare at him in his amber orbs one last time. Mocking your apology, he cooed at you.

“Aww, you’re sorry? Why don’t you show me how sorry you are?”

Punctuating his statement by rushing his cock back into your ruined cunt, you cried out at the feeling. He shoved your face back into the bed, his pace now unrelenting and no longer a derivative of pleasure but rather of power. With every thrust you felt the tip of his cock assault your cervix, causing tears to well up in your eyes and dry into the sheets beneath you. It was overwhelming, feeling like all decision was stolen from you.

The only thing that filled the room now were the occasional groans from the figure above you and muffled sobs from yourself. You hated that you could feel the approaching feelings of ecstasy building in your lower stomach. The heat was building and the suffocating squeezes from your gummy walls around his cock were more than enough to alert him to your demise.

“You gonna cum around me, you filthy slut? Enjoyed every second of this didn’t you?”

The guilt you were warding off finally made its way to the forefront of your emotions but you couldn’t find it within yourself to admit that you did, in fact, enjoy all of this. You settled for denial. Denial would save you from the inevitable self reflection you’d have to face.

“No, no no I didn’t! I didn’t enjoy it. I didn-!”

Your body cut you off, your orgasm washing over you reluctantly but comedically in timing. As your body shuddered around him, you heard that same derisive chuckle leave his throat mocking you yet again.

“Keep telling yourself th~aht.”

He pulled himself out of you, spraying his seed across the exposed portion of your back. The warmth felt overt, wicked, and it was something you didn’t want on you. You didn’t have the gall to face the being behind you. Instead, you let your body fall limp against the bed as the being fronting as Dalton stood up and fixed himself back into his clothes. From behind you heard him.

“Say hi to him for me.”

Not expecting a response from you, he left Dalton’s body. His earthly form collapsing on your dorm floor. You didn’t have the strength to turn and help him up as he came to, too busy wrestling with your emotions as tears pooled out of your eyes. You heard your Dalton groan and stand up reaching to turn on the lamp light on his art desk. As the warm light illuminated the room, he turned around silence and shock devastating him as he took in the sight of you.

You tried to quell your sobs, but your body kept shaking them out. Dalton slowly walked over to you trying to survey your body without touching you. When his eyes landed on the alabaster stains that painted your lower back a terrifying realization overcame him.

“Y/n…? Y/n, talk to me.”

The gentle tone was something you missed dearly despite only being gone for such a short amount of time. It comforted you knowing that the worst was over for at least right now. Dalton kneeled on the floor resting his upper body on the side of the bed. You turned your head slowly, still somewhat expecting to meet those hideous yellow eyes but when you saw the gentle and disconcerted brown pupils you were swamped with relief. Tears still were falling across your face, their frequency diminishing.

You gave him a weak smile, a small “hey” leaving your lips. Like cracked porcelain, he wouldn’t dare touch you. He couldn’t break you more than he already had. His tone weak and regretful, he scanned over your fragile body trying to understand how this happened. He let his head fall next to yours, burying his head in sheets.

“What did I do to you?”

#dalton lambert #dalton lambert x reader #dalton lambert fanfic #insidious #insidious the red door #horror smut #dalton lambert smut #insidious fanfic #horror fanfiction #horror imagines #ty simpkins #dalton lambert imagines

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charmedreincarnation · 10 months

Note

⭐️ my void sucess story ⭐️

Hi Maya! I entered the void last night using this (https://www.tumblr.com/charmedreincarnation/717982229971730432/fulfillment-x-i-am-technique) and this (https://www.tumblr.com/charmedreincarnation/718301527748608000/shifting-recourses-wposts ) post, so tysm!

I won’t get to into it, but I am living my best life despite all the doubts I had about the void. I always knew it was real but I was scared I would not be able to do it. If you’re someone who struggles with the logic behind this phenomenon I suggest reading that post, and also reading @gorgeouslypink blog. I think both Maya and pink understand and acknowledge that this stuff “isn’t natural” (in a human and logical sense) but also encourage us to both appeal to our logical mind and spiritual one as well. But I kind of do want to breakdown what I did, bc it was always annoying how some anon stories didn’t explain what they did lol.

⭐️I suggest reading one peice of Neville Goddard’s work. You don’t have to of course. You don’t even have to apply loa, but trust me it’s the shortcut to this type of stuff. I really liked at your command, and the power of imagination if you want recommendations.

⭐️read this (https://www.tumblr.com/gorgeouslypink/710749646282227712/doubts )post about doubt by pink. Don’t just read it, understand and internalize it. If you don’t and keep re-reading it until you do.

⭐️use some subliminals if you want.i know people say don’t put methods above you, but ehhh :// I just like to listen to music and it won’t hurt as long as you know you choose if they work or not with your assumption. I really like slade, solar subs kira’s domain (yes the scammer but her subs still work pretty well) and v1per, but use whoever you trust

⭐️find logical reasoning to help you come to terms with the fact it’s real. Pink talks about some on her page, and so does Maya. I used the technique I shared in the first paragraph which reminds me of a lazy sats, and combined that with my subliminal usage and after a week it worked

⭐️shifting methods are your best friend. There are so many great methods so find one that resonates with you. Also the shifting community is very open minded and not limited in any way, which is nice. They’re also starting to talk about logic and the law which is awesome. Again this (https://www.tumblr.com/charmedreincarnation/718301527748608000/shifting-recourses-wposts) post has both resources for the logical and spiritual mind, stuff about the law, methods, and stories.

⭐️stick to 1-2 bloggers who help you feel the most motivated. Most bloggers say the something anyways so it won’t help you that if you read 100 bloggers instead of one. I obviously preferred pink and Maya but choose whoever you want!

Anyways, most importantly I manifested a complete change in my life. Nothing is the same so don’t limit yourself. From the way I look, to where I live, my career, age, love life, wealth, social life, family, friends, nothing is the same. Also I was 30 but I revised my age to 25. I’m just adding this so you know it’s not only kids dabbling in this special amazing ability! I also had very hard circumstances, ranging from poverty, assault, and depression. Most people in the world struggle, no one is struggling alone. Don’t let that victim mentality stop you from living your best life.

I know I say the same thing every time, but I’m genuinely happy and proud of you! Thank you for sharing all your amazing tips and recourses, and I hope you continue to always live your best life and it only gets better!

#law of assumption #manifesation #manifesting #void state #void success

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shimonerin · 4 months

Text

Secret Santa w/ the Jujutsu High Students

Content: Giving Itadori, Megumi, and Nobara their favorite gifts Tags: fluff Words: 1.7k

a/n: literally my first time writing again after a year or two and also my first time actually putting myself out there and posting lol I apologize if it's messy or lengthy TvT

Itadori Yuji

I feel like Yuuji would ask for a DVD/cassette collection of his favorite movies and TV shows since he really is a “TV child” and grew up watching those. And also because DVDs/cassettes are not really a thing nowadays, it kind of gives him nostalgia to be watching the same movies he used to when he was younger.

Another thing I think he’d like is a snack basket. Just a basket filled to the brim with sweets and snacks and sodas. Just something he can eat and share with someone while he’s watching his shows.

Yuuji doesn’t ask for much and he’d be completely fine if you only managed to buy one of them or even a completely different gift. I mean, he’s basically going out every weekend in the cinemas and he’s more than capable of buying a few snacks for himself at the store. Everything else is just a bonus.

What he didn’t expect was for you to go out of your way to buy him everything on his wishlist and even gave him a meal voucher to one of the popular ramen restaurants in Japan. You know he likes rice bowls a lot and what’s better than giving him a voucher that’s worth at least three different rice bowls.

“No way! You bought all of this for me?” He exclaimed, his eyes gleaming with stars as he looked over the rack full of DVDs, a large snack basket, and a meal voucher. He could feel the tears well up in his eyes, seeing you make an effort into giving him something special.

You smiled fondly at him, chuckling softly at his lightly pouting face “I might as well, right?” You tell him so casually, as if you didn’t just crawl your way into this man’s heart with your gifts.

Without a second thought, he threw himself at you, wrapping you in a tight, almost suffocating embrace before burying his face at the crook of your neck “You’re so awesome, you know that? I was secretly hoping you were my secret santa.” He murmured softly, which you find extremely endearing. Nobara and Gojo snickered behind you and you knew you’d find yourself in the middle of another teasing session over the next few days.

As soon as Yuuji let go of you, he grabbed both of your hands, holding it in front of your chest “We should definitely stop by that ramen restaurant later! You’ve only been there once, right?” He suggested as he shook your hands excitedly like a child.

As much as he wanted to hang out with his friends this Christmas, he didn’t want to miss out on some one-on-one time with you. He’s basically begging the universe for it so he wouldn’t trade it for the world or for an extra day of training. That can wait.

Megumi Fushiguro

I feel like Megumi isn’t even interested in joining Secret Santa. Poor boy was just forced by Gojo and Itadori lol. As he’s not interested in receiving any material gifts anyways, at most he’d probably just ask for a book.

He didn’t even give you any specific book he’d want you to buy so you had to ask Gojo “Oh, he’s not really into fantasy books, if that’s what you’re thinking,” He tells you as he leaned back onto the sofa “He’s leaning more towards nonfiction novels. Like the classics, you know?”

Heading straight towards the bookstore after training hours, you decided to go for “In Praise of Shadows” by Junichiro Tanizaki, simply because the title reminded you of his cursed technique. Though, the synopsis for the book isn’t too far off from his tastes.

Giving him only the book felt empty so you decided to look for mini figurines for his shikigamis at a nearby pottery shop. You wanted to give him something to symbolize his immense care for these animals, which was one of the things you loved the most about him. In the end, you had bought a total of 10 mini clay figurines. You placed it alongside the book inside a neat box with Japanese wrapping paper and a small bunny origami that resembles one of his shikigami on top to finish it off.

When it was time to give your gift to Megumi, he was quite impressed with the way it was wrapped but kept his reactions to a minimum “Ah, thanks.” He’d say, with a hand behind his neck

Only when he opens his present will you see the visible change in his expression. He pulls out the book and the mini figurines of the Divine Dogs, his gaze darting all over it in subtle fascination.

You purse your lips, tilting your head slightly “Do you like it?” You asked him, albeit a little nervously.

“Hey! Say something, won't you?” Nobara shouted, crossing her arms at the boy “Don't just sit there and stare!”

Megumi lifted his head off your bundle of gifts as he gazed back at your smiling face, a sudden feeling of happiness swelling in his chest but he kept it in.

“It’s…nice. I like it.” He spoke quietly, as if he’s only talking to you, blocking out all of the other sounds around him “You shouldn't have bought so much.”

He wanted to say more than that but his real feelings can't be summed up in a few words and he didn't want to come off so cheesy in front of his friends.

You laughed in response, waving off his words “No, no, I want to! You seem so indifferent with Christmas and I just wanted to give you something to smile about!” You lightly teased him, knowing you would have loved him either way.

At this point, Itadori and Nobara were forcing Megumi to smile for you as a joke, poking and prodding at his cheeks like they always do.

In the middle of the teasing session, you could definitely make out a small genuine smile from his otherwise stoic face, one that's easy to miss if you’re not looking closely enough.

Later that evening, when you finally got home, you received an unexpected call from Gojo, saying “Hey, just called to tell you Megumi loved what you gave him.” He tells you “In fact, he’s arranging those figurines you bought him at his bedside table.”

Without a second thought, you could hear Gojo put his phone closer to Megumi’s room, as the faint sound of soft clashes of wood on wood fills your ears.

Gojo puts himself back on the call “Oh, and the book that you gave him? Yeah, he started reading it on the way home. Looks like you really got him this time.”

You couldn't help the smile slowly spreading across your face like a child “Really?” You say, trying not to let your voice give out what you're feeling “That’s…that’s great! Tell him to cherish it for me, Gojo-sensei!”

Unbeknownst to you, you were on speaker the whole time.

Kugisaki Nobara

Oh it was anxiety-inducing to think of what to give to Nobara. She’s a girl who knows her worth and knows exactly what she deserves. And while that was an aspect of her personality that you love and admire a lot, there’s only so much that you can do with your allowance.

Her wish list states that she wanted stylish clothing, accessories, or anything that looks good on her, given how much she loves shopping. Of course, she didn’t ask for Balenciaga or Onitsuka Tiger. She’s not that delusional.

But you can’t help as if every gift you’d think of wouldn’t be good enough for her. You only wanted to give her the best things because that’s when you’ll see her smile the brightest. And you’d probably do anything to see it on her all the time.

Over the weekend, you made a plan to go to Shibuya, going straight to the popular fashion mall, Shibuya 109. Entering one of the more affordable clothing chains in the establishment, you purchased a cute, oversized graphic tee for her. You also decided to buy her a box set of accessories like hairpins, bracelets, chains, and scrunchies.

Buying one last thing for her with the money that you have, you go to a local chocolatier and order a box of macaroons. Nobara has always been a fan of sweets, after all.

On Christmas Day, when it was your turn to give your gifts, you glanced towards Nobara who was sitting beside you before handing her a beautifully wrapped gift with a ribbon on top.

“Merry Christmas, Nobara. You’re gonna love this.” You’d sweetly say as she widened her eyes, delicately loosening the ribbon string.

As soon as her eyes landed on the top you bought for her, chic accessories, and the box of macaroons, she couldn't simply contain her excitement.

Her eyes were basically stars as she immediately tried on the shirt, twisting and turning to see how it looked “(Y/N), this is gorgeous!” She exclaimed

Opening the box of accessories next, she quickly tried on the hairclips and wore the bracelets, hurriedly trying them on all at once “Where did you buy all this? It honestly looks so good.” She asked you, a wide smile plastered on her face

You scratched the back of your head and grinned “I…I honestly went to Shibuya this Saturday. I thought I might find you something different from the shops there.”

She immediately dropped everything she was holding and perked up in interest “And you didn't bring me with you? That would have been the best Christmas gift you could give me!” She says, her warm hands immediately wrapping around yours “Then maybe you shouldn't have spent all your money on me. I heard some stores there are so expensive.”

Your grip on her hand tightened into a gentle squeeze “You don't need to worry. I got my money's worth so it’s okay, really.” You reassured her.

You could see the tears forming on her eyes, only for her to wipe it off as she pouted “Well, at least let me share my macarons with you!” She tells you before picking one from the box and feeding you a strawberry cream-filled flavor macaron.

Nobara made a promise to be the one to take you to Shibuya next time and even go as far as to spoil you, even when you told her not to.

How could she not? She’s so picky with everything but you’re the only one who seems to pinpoint her tastes so well. She’s never met anyone who could match her as good as you do so she’ll make sure to return the favor.

Happy holidays x

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #itadori yuuji #yuji itadori #jjk itadori #itadori x reader #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi #megumi x reader #nobara kugisaki #jjk kugisaki #jjk nobara #nobara x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk imagines #Spotify

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dollsorwhatever · 17 days

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Tutorial: MH Creepro neck and Arm fix

Posting this here because I keep getting questions about how I've been fixing my MH Creeproduction bodies to look a little less janky! Most people already have these techniques in their arsenal (and can definitely do a better job than me) but I keep getting questions on Twitter about how I manage to fix mine so I figure I'd just post a tut on Tumblr that I can link to lol This is an add-on to my previous post about the neck issue with both waves of Monster High Creeproductions in addition to another issue where the Creepro arms cannot lay flat against the sides of the body. Tutorial below!

Supplies Needed:

-Shitty creepro body

-Some sandpaper, I've been using 320 grit

-Boiling water We're going to start with the neck since that one is pretty quick.

This is the neck peg to start with, compared to an original G1 neck peg- the section we're concerned with is the circular peg right above the neck hole:

(Creepro on the left, original on the right) the Creeproduction peg is significantly thicker, which is causing the head to sit lower on the neck and cause the vinyl to deform. We're going to fix that by sanding the underside of the neck peg until it's much thinner, but not quite as thin as the originals (since original g1 dolls frequently have loose necks lol)

First you'll want to cut out a rectangle of sandpaper and fold it in half; this is both to make the sandpaper less flimsy and also because the folded edge is good for sanding nooks and crannies.

Now you're going to sand all around underside of the circular neck peg shown here, until that whole circular peg is thinner:

Make sure not to use the folded edge of the sandpaper for this part of the tutorial, we don't want to accidentally carve into the "stem" of the neck peg and cause it to snap. I like to sand off a bit, try the head on and then sand off a bit more if it's still not sitting as high as an original MH neck would. Make sure you're heating the heads prior to removal or you might break the neck peg. And also chop off that stupid hook on the top of the circular peg, it does nothing but cause misery lol This is typically what it looks like when I've sanded it as much as I need to for most dolls:

(after on the left, before on the right) Some characters have heads that sit much higher on the neck originally (like Spectra) so I'll sand off a lot more for them, but ymmv.

Now onto the body!

So, this is the Creeproduction body as-is:

This is the flattest I can get her arms to her sides. Some creepros can get them flatter, but not by much. Original G1 body arms already tend not to lay flat enough in my experience, but Creeproduction bodies are even worse lol We're going to fix that with sandpaper and boiling water! Provided below is an illustration of the general places that we are going to sand:

The notch under the ball joint of the arm, the area directly below the armpit and a tiny bit of the round area on the underside of the upper arm. We're going to sand a little off of each section.

For the notch in the arm, you're going to use the folded edge of the sandpaper to carve out the notch until it's a bit deeper than previously.

No, it's not pretty! Thank you for noticing lol

Next we're going to sand the armpit area, using the other edges of the sandpaper because we don't want to dig into the arm at all accidentally:

As well as this rounded area of the arm , not too much but enough to make it just a little flatter:

I left it raw to better show exactly where I'm sanding; most of the visible sand marks will disappear after washing but you can clean it up more with a finer sandpaper when you're done if you want. I'm just too lazy to do that lol

After all of that, your arm should sit more or less like the arm on the right (left unsanded for comparison)

Much better, but not quite there yet!

Modern G1 bodies have vinyl upper arms that are easy to manipulate with heat, so in order to get them as flat as possible we're doing to boil and reshape them. I like to boil my water in the microwave, and then dip the entire upper torso into the water until the arms are super pliable. At this point I will pull them out, pinch the arms right up against the body with my thumb and forefinger and then run them under the tap until they set. Your final result should look something like this:

And that's it! Hope that helps lol

Some shoddy before and after photos lol:

(Spectra was also rerooted lol)

#monster high #monster high g1 #mh #creeproduction #doll mods #doll customization

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cupcakeslushie · 27 days

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sorry for nagging you but i wanted to ask if you have some tips on making comics. I’ve trying making many comics but i always lose motivation and can’t seem to get past even the first panel sometimes.

I did make a pretty long post here, with some advice for starting out! But that’s more technical I guess, and it sounds like maybe you’re looking for some motivational advice? So in addition to that post, I’d say…

Don’t look at these panels where you’re stuck as failures. Look at them, instead, as first drafts!! Keep the early planning stages loose, so it doesn’t feel like an arrow to the heart if you have to make changes. Many artists need to see their thoughts collected somewhere before they can refine things and move on to the next stage. Another big thing is learning to be okay with throwing those drafts away when they become more of a roadblock than a step towards that awesome, final version you’ve got knocking around in your head.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve spent an hour plotting the composition of a panel…or maybe I’ve gotten too focused on the little details of a character’s expression, but the rest of the shot has just….idk died. I’ll copy and paste what I did like, and delete what’s not working or I’ll completely start over, no fuss. Wipe my hands of it and refuse to look at it as a failure. If I drew it once, I can draw it again! Practice isn’t time wasted, it’s time invested into growing! Drawing is drawing!

It’s always good to look back at your work, so you can see your improvement, but only focusing on your unfinished pieces might be doing more harm than good.

And maybe, you don’t have to draw a full 10 page comic from the get go! Try experimenting with shorter form comics! You can tell quite a number of stories in just a few panels! Learning the ins and outs of something new is a lot easier to accomplish when it’s done in smaller increments. That way you can have that feeling of success more often and it’ll motivate you into not giving up!

When I started EW, I was doing parts in like, one or two pages! Because I was still nailing down the comic techniques I wanted to employ. I was gathering brushes and learning how and when to use them! Learning how to create compositions that worked around dialogue bubbles! All the boring parts of comic creating lol. But then, the more comfortable I became with those techniques, the less time they took, and I could really go wild with the creative aspect! Now my updates are much longer!

It’s just a process. But at some point, all the advice and resources in the world can only help so much. You have to be willing to put in the time!

I’d say it’s kinda similar advice they give when you start working out. When you’re first starting, and you try to do more than your body is comfortable with, you’ll be in a lot of pain and won’t want to continue. It’s easy to give up if you’re not seeing results and you feel like you’re wasting your time. But if you start in a reasonable place, and let yourself learn as you go, then you can gain good habits and it’ll get easier!

And only then, when it’s easy, that’s when you challenge yourself! Not when you’re already struggling with just starting! Or it won’t be fun and all of your drive will disappear!

And that’s really what you’re doing this all for, right? For fun!

#ask slushie #rottmnt #slushie rambles #art reference

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mstigeress37-blog · 4 months

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BOXER! RAFE CAMERON X READER

ＳＵＭ．Rafe is a boxer, but his pretty girlfriend hasn’t showed up to his match yet, so where is she?

Notes. Fem! Reader/ She/Her pronouns used, violent description, fanon rafe lol.

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

Rafe was stressed.

It was his first time boxing in this particular ring in this particular place. He found the place with a bit of difficulty, driving wise, and since his girlfriend wasn’t here, he could only assume she had lost her way.

He bursts through the changing room door, eyes scanning for both his manager and his girlfriend, before setting them on Topper, his best friend.

“Yo, have you seen Y/N? She’s usually here by now.” He asks, scratching his recently buzzed hair after one of his fans tried to grab it post-fight.

Topper shakes his head, “Nah, man. I can go stand outside and keep a lookout for you, though?” He suggests. Rafe nods once, deep in thought and his eyebrows furrowed, before walking away, kissing his teeth and shaking his head in disappointment.

If she isn’t going to be here within the next hour, he’s gonna knock his opponent to the floor and keep hitting him until she shows up.

—————

The last time you didn’t/couldn’t make it to Rafe’s match was when you were grounded in High School after getting caught doing weed that Rafe gave you. You ended up having to sneak out with Sarah to bail him out. Sarah needed you since she knew Rafe was pissed and, as cheesy as it sounds, you the only person who was able to calm him down. Even thinking about the next that read, ‘Stuck in traffic! So sorry, baby!’ made him huff with anger.

But now, you’re adults. No ‘asking for permission but my dad said no’, no ‘You’re grounded so you can’t go.’ Nothing. Nada. So why was he behind the curtain doing the breathing technique you taught him all alone?

Rafe was pissed. Not at you, of course. But at the world. What cruel universe would keep you stuck in traffic? Or put the boxing ring so far away from you?

Before he could think anymore, he heard his name being introduced through the speakers, saw the curtains fly open, and started running to the ring, pissed as ever.

The two bump fists, and just before the ring goes off, Rafe can hear the man go, ‘missing your girlfriend, Rafe? D’y’need your mommyyyy?’ through his mouth guard, chuckling before hitting his own fists together.

The bell goes off, and it felt like permission to beat the ever living shit out of the pathetic excuse of a man in front of him.

Rafe pounces, his fists heavier than two seconds ago, and lands each punch to the other’s face and gut.

Some time passes, and his coach calls him over to his corner. Rafe has blood trickling down his nose and forehead. He feels like shit for a second before he glances over to his opponent and smirks, chuckling to himself.

He sits down, and through the music and loud cheering/booing, he hears you, and suddenly, his huffs are light-hearted and relieved exhales.

From the corner of his eye, he sees you pushing through, probably politely asking them to move, before you occasionally shout, ‘Rafe!’ And you don’t have to shout much or loudly, since Rafe’s head was turned the first time you yelled.

He sees your smile go wide as the two of you make eye contact before you glance to the side, looking at what Rafe did to his opponent.

The two guards let you past the gate that separates the ring and the audience since they know your face (since Rafe was shoving a picture of you in their faces asking if they had seen you despite their multiple ‘No!’s), and suddenly you’re running to Rafe’s corner, jumping up to hold onto the ropes.

“Rafe, baby! I’m so sorry, I got lost, then suddenly I was in traffic, then I was in the countryside?? I-I don’t know, but it’s okay, because-“

“-Because you’re here.” He finishes quietly. He doesn’t even need to raise his voice for you to hear him over all the clamouring of the audience and his team who are pouring water all over him.

“I don’t care if I landed in a cell again, because I knew you would have picked me up. I don’t care if they kicked me out of here, since I know you would get here eventually and give me a lecture as you took us home. I don’t care if you weren’t here before, because you’re here now.”

You feel emotional and give him a quick peck on the kiss, not knowing how much time he has left of his break. However, unsatisfied with such a small show of affection, he stands up from the stool, grabs your face, and kisses you lovingly.

“Alright, lover boy, get in there!!” His coach yells from his side. He pulls away gently, admires your face before giving you a quick peck on the nose, running back to the centre with a new found confidence and a swell of love in his heart.

You smile softly at the view of his back before his coach jumps down, helping you jump down too to sit at the chairs neatly lined up.

#rafe #rafe obx #outerbanks rafe #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe fic #boxing #outer banks #obx x reader #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #obx fic #obx

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chaos0pikachu · 3 months

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Film Making? In My BL? - The Sign ep01 Edition

So, if we're doing this we're doing this, so buckle in baby.

I'm gonna focus how the opening scene below, uses two narrative devices and one film technique to build out the scene as a whole: in media res, misdirection, and the long take.

youtube

Okay so to begin, we have to start at the beginning, or well, the middle lmao

In Media Res

I saw a post in the tag that said something to the effect of how The Sign starting with no context and providing no information at the beginning was strange, with the implication it was bad writing. I disagree, fundamentally, because The Sign is using a very common literary device called 'In Media Res'. And in my opinion, uses this device very well.

If you're familiar with basic storytelling terms I ain't telling you anything new, but for folks who may not know, in media res is a latin term that means "in the midst of things" and lots of stories - both prose, comics, and film - use this device.

The most famous is The Iliad by Homer, which if you've ever read - and you should it's glorious also it'll give some context to Song of Achilles - you know it drops you full-on no context into the middle of things. The beginning will differ in verbiage depending on the translation you pick up, this free version starts with:

THE CONTENTION OF ACHILLES AND AGAMEMNON. In the war of Troy, the Greeks having sacked some of the neighboring towns, and taken from thence two beautiful captives, Chryseis and Briseis, allotted the first to Agamemnon, and the last to Achilles.

Right off the bat the story drops four character names and the setting with no real context. Who are all these people? Why is there a war? Well, keep reading to find out! It also starts the story with an action aka an argument - nay A CONTENTION!! Achilles and Agamemnon are such bratty bitches lol

Other (more mainstream) examples include:

The Dark Knight

Lost

28 Days Later

Mission Impossible (pick one)

Fight Club

Full Metal Alchemist (both)

MDZS

Inception

And, The Sign.

"In contrast to linear storytelling, which starts at the beginning and moves sequentially, in medias res is a nonlinear approach that can make stories more dynamic and immersive.

It's a technique that challenges the audience to make sense of the narrative puzzle, often revealing essential information about the characters and their motivations gradually." (source)

What's described above is exactly how The Sign, starts it's story, in the middle of things, specifically to create a puzzle for the audience to figure out gradually. If you watch the above scene, what's happening?

We get a (well done) overshot of an island (establishing setting), we see a group of soldiers (establishing the characters we'll be following) we see them doing military things (okay these are their skills, and they're on some sort of mission), their drone spots a group of people inside and a character says the dialogue "Listen up, you only have 15 minutes" (this establishes stakes, okay there's a time limit to this mission) "Team A will rescue the hostage" (okay now we know what the mission is and informs these characters are on a rescue mission).

Who is speaking here? We don't know yet, but a safe assertion would be this character, since they are the first character who speaks on screen, will be important.

And we'd be right because it's Phaya speaking, one of our main protagonists as well soon find out.

All this happens within the first minute; the show provides an interesting set-up. It deals out information in tidbits - setting, characters we'll be following, situation set-up, stakes - but not enough information for the audience not to ask questions.

I want to iterate that at this point, the goal isn't to "care" about the characters yet, so much as create an intriguing set-up based in action that will showcase various information about the tone, setting, and skills of the piece that will engage the audience. To make the audience ask questions, to engage with them.

When you open up on MDZS the protagonist, Wei Wuxian is dead and we have no context for this. Everyone is just in the middle of celebrating his death and we, the readers, do not care that he's dead or why he died. The story could have started in a more linear way, with him arriving at Cloud Recesses arguably the beginning of his journey, but would that have been as interesting? As engaging?

I like how this article breaks down the why of starting your story in media res is a powerful and often used device:

This is what The Sign is doing in this opening part. Starting the action of the series off with action and creating that immediate engagement. The scene also ends with a plot twist which connects to that final point about information control.

This isn't a technique I've seen often used in BL because BL is a sub-genre of romance and most romances are told in chronological order, rather than non-linearly - there are, of course non-linear romances, but most mainstream romances, and by extension most BL aren't told in this way - BL shows don't often have actual physical action. A majority, especially in Thailand, are grounded, closer to slice-of-life, coming-of-age, and comedy dramas - though we are starting to see a change in that trend.

So starting in the middle of things, like chepa the middle of what? Two dudes walking~ to Engineering class?

The goal of this opening scene is to pull in the audience, make them wonder and ask questions: "who are these characters? will they rescue the hostages? who are the bad guys? who is this character who's having visions?" and so on and so forth. It's a way to engage in the audience without having to slow down the narrative with a ton of exposition, or build up stakes slowly, rather it grabs the audience immediately and sets them in the middle of the tension asking them to engage with what's happening.

The Long Take

You've probably heard about "the long take" but to break it down, a long take is one continuous take without any edits/cuts. The film 1917 was famously filmed to "look" like one long take. One of the most cited and well known long takes is from Children of Men by Alfonso Cuarón:

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Now if you watch this movie you can tell why there isn't a lot of BL long takes because, god damn, they built a new type of car just to get that one scene. [read here for more on long takes]

So, The Sign. It's long take starts at about 2:08, following Phaya - again, we the audience don't know this is Phaya BUT since the camera is spending specific time with him we assume he is An Important Character and he is! Set up and payoff! Funny how that works - and ends at around 4:27.

[Sidenote I love that the take ends, not with a cut but a transition. Which I'll cover in another post but in the land of Thai BLs which favor cuts so damn much transitions were so refreshing to see]

During this long take, we establish that these characters are competent at what they do. We understand that they're military trained, in both hand-to-hand combat and firearms. We also get these two mid-close ups, which signifies these will be Important Characters:

And they are, the first shot is of Phaya, Khem and Thongthai and the second is Tharn and Yai.

This also sets-up the character dynamics; Yai and Tharn are already close and know each other so they are drawn to each other while on the mission, while Khem and Thongthai have a pre-established relationship but are still supporting behind Phaya.

This type of shot also allows for the audience to better see and follow the fighting that's happening on screen. Filming fight scenes are their own beast, and while there's no one school of thought on how a film scene "should" be filmed, there are techniques that that place some fight scenes above others.

The first video showcases some techniques on how to film a fight scene, while the second one at the 8min mark talks about the long take in John Woo's classic action film Hard Boiled.

This long take in Hard Boiled really showcases why long takes are so powerful in filming a fight scene specifically. They pull the audience further into the action and create a palpable energy that just works better than a scene with lots of quick cuts.

There's a reason one of the biggest criticisms of Mortal Kombat (2021) was that all the fights were edited to pieces while John Wick (2014) was a refreshing jolt to the industry.

youtube

The Sign takes a page out of John Woo's book, and places the characters, and the physicality of the scene front and center, pulling the audience along with the camera in one long shot.

Long takes are hard, I can't really emphasize this enough, if you watched that video on Children of Men you can see all the intricate work that went into scenes that amounted to maybe 5mins of actual film time. Likewise this long take in The Sign is only about 2mins of actual time in the show BUT it's effective, it's engaging, its ambitious.

Which is why, I gotta give The Sign it's roses because of that ambition. Long takes are a lot of hard work, time, effort, blocking, rehearsals, on top of incorporating the fight chorography that's a lot and it looks good.

Now is this the best~~~ long take I've ever seen? lol no god but it's well done and ambitious especially for the sub-genre of BL.

Misdirection

Misdirection has more in common with in media res than the long take as it's a literary device and not a filming technique.

From Gotham Writers:

"In fiction misdirection can be either external or internal. That is, the author can be using the story as a frame to misdirect the reader, or a character in the story may be misdirecting one or more of the other characters. Or, of course, both." (source)

Misdirection is often used in thrillers or mystery narratives, Hitchcock used misdirection a lot in his films.

In Psycho the audience is lured to believe that Marion, the character the film opens with, builds up, and essentially sets up as our protagonist, is in fact our protagonist. She's not, she's murdered and her sister, Lila, is the actual protagonist of the movie. Sorry if this is a spoiler for an almost 70 year old film lmao

Misdirection is often used to set-up plot twists down the line. A good misdirection will leave clues for the audience when they watch back and go, "oh! I can't believe I missed that!"

In film The Sixth Sense is a good example of this, where the plot twist at the end doesn't weaken the film once you know it but rather, it enhances the film itself on a rewatch. Another good example of misdirection in film are both Knives Out and Glass Onion, where Rian Johnson will set up a non-linear story and then slowly unravel the information for the audience.

Take the scene where Marta, in Knives Out, finds Fran's body and hears Fran say "it was you" at least to audience ears. Then stands up looming above Fran's body. The scene cuts, and the audience is led to believe Marta has let Fran die to protect herself (since we the audience also have been led to believe Fran is dead) only to find out later that Marta didn't let Fran die, she is alive, and she knew Ransom was the killer.

The Sign uses misdirection in a much more simple way. It sets up an expectation: Phaya is going to die, upping the stakes from "must save hostages" to "must save a comrade" aka the character we, the audience, have been following for the last 11 minutes. It sets two characters, Chart and Phaya, as opposing against each other, for reasons we don't know - is Chart one of the villains? Why is he trying to kill Phaya? etc - and the audience is led to believe this is a life or death situation.

Then, plot twist. The reveal happens that this was all a training exercise, and there was never any "real" danger whilst also keeping the audience on their toes. And like in The Iliad, now we have context for the mission, and then the story is able to step back and explain.

It's not like, the best~~~ use of misdirection but there was a purpose to it. It sets up an expectation, and subverts that expectation of the audience - but in a good way not a Game of Thrones way. While also pulling the audience into the show by starting in the middle of the action rather than slowing down the story with exposition or giving their hand away to much that this was a training exercise.

If you knew it was a training exercise, suddenly the stakes feel less intense because none of the characters are in any real danger, but not knowing that, withholding that information until it's relevant, ups the stakes of the scene.

The opening scene of The Sign imparts a lot of information without using a lot of dialogue and I find that impressive. We learn which characters will be relevant to the story - Phaya, Tharn, Yai, Khem, Thongthai and now we know, Chart is also important - that they are skilled combat fighters, knowledgeable in firearms, there's a fantasy element to the story via Tharn's visions, they're on an island which the setting for right now, and the tone and aesthetic of the show itself.

It's actually a fun scene to rewatch again with more context because I appreciated it even more. Which is just good film making.

I didn't talk much about the camera work - needless to say it's notable and fun - but maybe I'll save that for the next post. What other shows or scenes would be fun to breakdown? Drop me a line but heads up I don't actually watch a ton of shows so idk if I've seen xyz show lmao

Later chepies ✌️✌️

Other posts in the series:

Aspect Ratio in Love for Love's Sake | Cinematography in My BL - Our Skyy2 vs kinnporsche, 2gether vs semantic error, 1000 Stars vs The Sign | How The Sign Uses CGI

[like these posts? drop me a couple pennies on ko-fi]

#the sign #the sign the series #idol factory #phayatharn #chaos pikachu metas #chaos film metas #idk what to tag this as anymore rip #these posts are so looooooooong #brain is a fried egg someone pass the soy sauce #Youtube #pikachu's bl film series

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ellivenollivander · 9 months

Note

So, your healer!sebastian post really got me thinking. If you want to, would you maybe write something about seb as a healer working somewhere, he had lost touch with MC, but she comes in gravely injured one day. He saves her and they reconnect?

@skittish1807 Thank you for your patience, I know it has been way too long since you requested this. I love you and your endless patience, pal. Special shoutout to cold brew, sweet tea and ambient world on youtube for helping me finally finish this fic. Rating: 18+ (Mildly NSFW for insinuations) TW: Blood, Injury, Death Mention. Word Count: 8,635 (I know, i'm sorry.) A/N: This is my first Sebastian Fic, please be kind lol

Reconciliation

Sebastian didn’t know exactly how things ended up the way that they did with MC, he just knows that sometimes in the quiet moments of his now hectic life, when he’s left alone with his thoughts, she creeps in from the recesses of his mind.

He can hear her voice when he’s working in the Alchemy room at St. Mungos, criticizing the technique he uses to prepare his ingredients. The hint of a smile tugging at his lips as he stands alone in the dark room, dropping his sliced dittany into the bubbling cauldron. Wouldn’t you prefer chopped? It brews so much more quickly.

When he’s blowing off steam in the cellar of his home, taking out his anger of losing a patient on the training dummy he paid off an Auror for. He can feel her fingers wrapping around his wrist, adjusting his aim or her hand on his hip, correcting his stance.

The soft morning light brings him the smell of her shampoo, from the nights she’d slept in his bed. After long, late nights of studying and searching for anything, tucked behind his closed bed curtains. She’d claim the walk back to her dorm was much too far and crawl between the covers, enveloping him with the scent of her. He would wake up and she would be gone, but the smell of her shampoo would reside on his pillow, proof of her presence.

None of these soft memories made him feel like he did now, lying on a cot in the room designated for Healers to catch up on their sleep during their long shifts at St. Mungos. Sebastian rarely slept, but he tried. He had found an old daily prophet, shoved beneath the pillow, undoubtedly left by one of his fellow healers and decided to try and bore himself to sleep with whatever mess the Wizarding World had found themselves in today.

He found the classifieds, black ink advertising Cruppies - Free to a good home! and Stay Warm with BOGO Self Warming Scarves and Gloves at Twilfitt and Tattings!, as his eyes moved from advertisements to job listings. The memory of how he and MC had spent many of their meal times at Hogwarts hunched over the same paper, talking animatedly about what they could possibly do with their lives after graduation, made his heart constrict.

If he lets himself think about it, her, too much he finds himself spiraling. Desperate to find her, desperate to make things right. Despite being an orphan, and no longer having any family to speak of, he thinks the pain of losing the girl he was in love with for three years of his life might hurt worse.

The knowledge that she was alive and well, and just not here with him, a fate worse than death.

There was nothing he could do about his parents or Anne or even Solomon, they were gone. Never to return. Sebastian wonders if the pain hurts worse, because it was exacerbated by hope that they could be together again. That she’d come back to him.

Which is why he pitches the newspaper against the wall opposite, before punching the tattered pillow he’s shoving his face into, silently pleading for sleep to take him. His attempts only last about ten minutes, before the loudspeaker above the door alerts him to an incoming patient, being transported to the Potions and Poisoning ward.

He heaves himself from the bed with a groan, stretching out his tired limbs and makes his way to the third floor, taking the stairs two at a time. He pauses for just a moment, when he arrives at the patient's room. His eyes watching the brass plaque alongside the door frame materializing with his name, a sentimental pride filling him at the sight.

Healer in Charge: Sebastian Sallow

It had been five years since he’d graduated from Hogwarts, three since he completed the Healer training program. His career choice had been heavily influenced by the desire to feel like he was doing some good in the world, healing instead of hurting. The hefty knowledge he already possessed in his fruitless search for a cure for his ailing sister had just been a benefit, aiding him along in the program, impressing his instructors.

He didn’t pause long enough to think about how it had been five years since he had seen her.

Sebastian pushes open the door, the clipboard instantly pulling itself from the wall and into his hands, greeting his patient with a small smile, his eyes on the clipboard.

“Hello, I’m Healer Sallow, I’ll be getting you sorted out today. What seems to be the problem?”

He studies the intake form quickly as he speaks.

Casper Doolan. Age 9. Potions Accident.

Sebastian’s demeanor shifts slightly when he sees the age of the boy and he relaxes his shoulders, plasters on a smile as he finally takes a look at the patient; A freckled blonde boy, who seemed to be sprouting leaves across his body, sat cross legged on the bed looking as though he had not a care in the world. His parents standing behind him, looking much more distraught, and a teen girl red faced and teary eyed.

Sebastian lets his hand drop the clipboard, which slots itself right back into place on the wall, and he steps closer to the family.

“Hey pal, Casper right? I’m Sebastian. I’m going to get you all fixed up. Alright? Mind if I take a closer look?”

When the boy shrugs his shoulders, he gently lifts the boy's chin to get a better look at the foliage protruding from his face, keeping a small smile on his face. “Mind telling me what happened?” He directs the question to the adults standing above him, as he’s leant down examining Casper.

The clipboard comes back from the wall, levitating in the air and the quill begins recording the words of the Doolans’ recollection of the events of the day. Their daughter had been practicing her potion brewing when Casper had been overcome with curiosity, and had taken a swig from her concoction. An hour later they had been sitting in the St. Mungo’s waiting area when no antidote or healing charm rectified the effects.

Sebastian let out a puff of air, nodding along to the story.

“Can’t say it’s the first time, and I know it will not be the last. Are you in any pain, Casper? Does it hurt? Be honest, no being brave. It’s important that I know.”

Little Casper shakes his head, relaying that it just feels funny. Sebastian gives him another wide grin, before turning towards the older sister.

“Can I ask what you were trying to brew?”

She tenses under Sebastian’s gaze, and he realizes he sounds a bit more accusatory then he had meant too and he clears his throat, holding his hands up. “I just need to know to help your brother… I’m not upset. This really does happen all of the time. Our little patients are notorious potion drinkers.” He smiles back down at Casper who blushes a bit at the comment. “He’s going to be just fine.”

She relaxes, her blush unfading.

“I…uh, I was working on a fertilizer… for herbology, it’s my worst subject in school… It was never meant to be drunk.” She shoots her own accusatory glare in her little brother's direction, and Sebastian has to bite back a laugh.

“Did you follow a recipe or were you just experimenting?”

The quill was poised to take down the information beside his head, his mind already moving in a million different directions on how to move forward with Casper’s treatment based on the information he was being given.

“O-of course I followed a recipe. It was the standard recipe for dragon dung fertilizer…”

At the words dragon dung, Casper’s face blanched at the realization of what he had consumed. He whipped around to face his sister, cheeks red with fury, the leaves in his skin shaking violently. Before he could start screaming at his sister, Sebastian spoke calmly, questioning if she had substituted any ingredients from the standard recipe. The scratch of the quill near his ear, oddly calming.

“No, I stayed true to the recipe but I hadn't added the mandrake yet, it was still stewing when pea brain here decided to take a swig.”

The quill continued recording and Sebastian nodded along appropriately, unable to keep back the playful grin at the name calling between siblings, his heart twinging in grief for just a moment.

“Good news is I think he’ll be just fine. Just have to allow the brew to run its course, I’d say. Let it pass through his system. Could give him a tonic to help it along but since he’s not experiencing any discomfort and he seems to be in good spirits, I’d hardly say that’s necessary.”

At the cheery diagnosis, the tension in the room seemed to immediately dissipate and the Doolan patriarch smacked Casper upside the head. As if he had been lying in wait to be told his son was indeed not dying, before he chastised him.

Sebastian bid the family goodbye, with a comment on lessons learned and to please come back if Caspers condition seemed to worsen in any way. Though before he left, he shook Casper’s hand like a man and slipped a candy into his palm. Before taking his leave with a small playful wink in the boy's direction.

The remaining hours of his shift included a disgruntled Auror who had been stuck feeling the effects of a tickling charm for a week, an elderly woman who had mistaken a Jarvey for a stray cat in her garden and suffered a particularly nasty attack and finally, another Hogwarts student who had botched a polyjuice potion and had found himself stuck between looking like himself and his next door neighbor.

Sebastian finally stood outside of St. Mungos in the summer rain, exhausted and desperate for a drink. He made his way to Undercroft, in hopes of finding some pretty little witch to help him forget the one everything in his life reminded him of.

If only for a night.

~*~

He had, and she did.

Though the only evidence of her presence in his home was the tiny bit of parchment she left on the pillow beside his head.

The pub had been lively, as usual. A popular spot for the younger wizarding demographic. Those that were out of school but not quite ready to hang up their hats and reminisce on their youth.

Sebastian had slid into his stool at the end of the bar, tucked into the corner. A whiskey sliding into his hand before he could even greet the barkeep, his best friend.

Ominis had purchased the building and opened his pub shortly after graduation, with the money left to him from his Aunt Noctua. He had been the sole heir to her estate, something he had only discovered on his seventeenth birthday in their seventh year. A ministry official knocking on the boys’ door in Feldcroft, bearing keys and paperwork.

He and Sebastian had spent an entire night drinking and laughing on the floor of the empty building, brainstorming names until they finally decided on Undercroft. An ode to their schooldays, to their little shelter in the storm of their youth. Hoping the name would inspire Ominis’ pub to be a similar sort of sanctuary for others. A place to unwind, to celebrate, to come together.

The Undercroft at Hogwarts had, of course, been where Ominis and Sebastian had spent a similar night of bonding. When Ominis had found him, crying in a corner, clutching Solomon’s last will and testament.

It had been the catalyst to the mending of their once thought ruined friendship. The guilt had overcome Sebastian, at the realization that Solomon had planned on giving him everything upon his death. The words had poured out of him with shaking sobs, dumping all of the trauma inside of him onto the boy who had just come to retrieve a forgotten textbook.

They had been inseparable ever since, Ominis had even officially moved into the home in Feldcroft, finally able to escape his family. He had sat with Sebastian when he received the news of Anne’s demise, tears of his own mixing with his on the quivering parchment in his hand. When he discovered how she had passed away alone and far from home at some London inn. The Aurors who found her only knowing to alert Sebastian by a folded up bit of parchment in her robes, A letter Sebastian had written to her just after he returned to Hogwarts after she had been cursed.

And Ominis had stayed when MC did not, her presence in his life fading more and more as the weeks passed after the night in the catacomb. Even more so, after Anne’s death when Sebastian had spiralled into the darkness of his mind. Swathed in guilt and grief with no foreseeable way of escaping it all.

He had been too caught up in his own pain to mind any attention to hers, and he had lost her completely. By the time he had relearned how to be alive again, she was gone. The situation too tedious to try and mend. He had let her go, knowing she’d be far better off without him, and by the time graduation came around, she was hardly more than a memory and had become yet another ache in his heart.

It was Ominis who had put him onto the pretty little blonde, a rag tossed over his shoulder as he leant across the bar to tell him all about how she was french and looking for a good time that Sebastian was all too happy to give.

Sebastian finally pulled himself out of his reminiscing, and out of his bed, to ready himself for his shift. The girl from last night already fading into just another memory of a good time.

~*~ The chill of the late morning air and the smoke in his lungs steadied Sebastian’s racing heart as he stood upon the roof of St. Mungos.

His morning had been taken up entirely by a handful of Aurors who had walked straight into a trap laid by a cell of dark wizards, led by a tip from an informant who had been playing both sides. He and his fellow Healers had managed to save most, but the one he had not is what had sent him up to the roof to clear his head, and settle his stomach. Every one of his failures twisted in his gut like a blade, making him want to crawl out of his skin.

Sebastian closed his eyes as he took another long drag of his cigarette, willing the vision of the aurors final moments from his brain, though he knew he’d be stuck with it until he drew his own final breath, just like all of the others.

He was pulled from his morbid reverie by a trainee healer, summoning him back inside from her place at the door, her arms crossed over her chest, an instinctual attempt to shield herself from the cold. Sebastian flicked the half finished smoke from his fingers as he turned to follow her back inside, the cigarette disappearing before it hit the ground.

The trainee quickly filled him in on his call as they descended the stairs, two at a time.

“Another Auror.. Got splinched when they attempted to apparate her here, away from the scene. Suspect her body was too weak to handle apparition. Had to arrange for an emergency portkey, she’s in a bad state.”

Sebastian nodded along, his heart racing once again, with a mix of adrenaline and dread.

Their feet landed simultaneously on the landing of the fourth floor, and the elder healer slammed through the door, to a small crowd and a blood bath. Right there in the corridor. He pushed his way through the onlooking Aurors in varying states of distress, to the figure lying on the floor, writhing and gasping in a pool of her own blood.

He had been so lost in taking in the damage, the hurt, his mind whirring a million miles a minute at the prospect of what he was walking into, he hadn’t taken a moment to register her face.

A face he knew, a face that had him stop dead in his tracks. It was as if ice water had replaced the blood in his veins as he stood over MC, convinced his racing heart had now stopped completely.

“MC?”

He allowed himself no more than a half second hesitation before he kneeled beside her twitching form. His eyes roamed her injured body, avoiding her face, unable to force himself to witness the pain there. As his hands found a wound in her abdomen, he knew this was more than a splinch, the mutilation was more than simply severed flesh.

Sebastian turned to look at the Auror standing closer than the others, trying to ignore the sounds of his old friends choked gasping. He had to bite back an exasperated laugh as he stared into the face of Leander Prewett.

“Prewett.” He closed his eyes, fixing his tone, the greeting had come out much more venomous than intended. The shock and terror he felt about this situation clouding his mind. “Can you tell me what happened?” He tried keeping his voice steady, as he always did when he took on the role of calm and collected healer as he questioned the man standing above him, who looked as panicked as he felt. Leander gave Sebastian a polite nod before recollecting the moment of MC’s injury.

“She’s..she's a scout. She went in first, surveyed the area… she knew it was a trap before any of us realized… one of the bastards ran her through with a blade… he came out of nowhere. Then.. it was just chaos… we were surrounded… After things were under control, we tried everything to stop the bleeding… to fix her. Wiggenweld, essence of dittany, every healing spell they teach us in the program. Nothing worked.”

Sebastians seemed to brain click back into place, and he shook off another laugh of realization as he lifted MC into his arms and off the stone floor, the sight of his lime green robes spreading beneath him a striking contrast against the pool of blood he had been kneeling in.

“Cursed. I’m positive the blade was cursed.” He nodded his head at the trainee healer who had been standing behind him, observing his work and she sprinted off for the alchemy lab, the knowledge she had absorbed from Sebastian at this point in her training made a verbal request redundant. Sebastian turned to push through into a hospital room to lay MC on the clean cot. He tried once again, to ignore the sight and sounds of the girl fighting for her life, the girl he once thought was the love of his life. Leander followed them inside, planting himself on the opposite side of the bed, his eyes never once leaving MC’s bloodied form. Sebastian couldn’t help the passing thought that the two Aurors were together, or the jealousy that suddenly roared inside of him at the thought.

He moved to the cabinet above the bed, his touch letting the lock release and the door fall open. He grabbed a small glass vial and turned back to Leander and MC, setting it down on the small wooden table beside him.

To ease Leander’s mind as much as his own, Sebastian welcomed the habitual way he slipped into a calm recitation of what he knew to be the issue, and how they could resolve it. Even now, amidst the chaos and fear, Sebastian felt a swell of pride and peace fill his chest, knowing he had found exactly what he was meant to do with his life.

“Suspect the blade was cursed to make the wound untreatable, to prevent any common healing rectification to take hold, unfortunately I also suspect it’s why we can’t heal the splinch either. The curse affects the entirety of her body, including new injuries. So this..” Sebastian holds up the small glass vial. “...Will hopefully slow the bleeding, while I do my work, the counter charms tend to take a bit of time, time that we do not have.”

Sebastian expected Leander to pelt him with panicked questions, or threaten his life if he did not manage to save MC. Reactions he was accustomed to receiving by loved ones of his patients, instead, the redhead simply nodded, his face stoic and determined. The Healer couldn’t help but wonder if the Auror was simply still in shock, numb from the battle. A part of him wished Prewett would yell or curse or panic, then, at the very least the only sound in the room would not be the sounds of their dying friend.

The Healer had no time to psychoanalyze the Auror, instead he put him to work.

“Alright, Prewett. Would you mind giving me a hand holding her head back?”

Leander didn’t hesitate as he gently took MC’s head in his hands, and tilted it back so Sebastian could pour the potion down her throat, with shaky hands, trembling with anxiety at seeing his former friend in such a state. Prewett’s hands on her head ensured she didn’t choke them back up or spit them out in her fight for breath.

Despite Sebastian being finished feeding her the potion, Prewett didn’t move his hand away from where it rested on the top of her head, his fingers trailing through her hair in what could only be interpreted as comfort.

Sebastian stamped down the bubbling angry jealousy at the gesture, and set the empty vial into a hole in the wall, where they promptly disappeared, knowing it would reappear back in the alchemy lab instantly, ready to be sterilized and reused.

He returned to the side of the bed, pulling out his wand, and began softly muttering the necessary charms and counter curses. So lost in his work, he didn’t notice his trainee return, setting the necessary potions for the course of the treatment onto the table, at his side.

He wasn’t so lost in his work, however, that he didn’t hear when Prewett finally spoke up, his voice quiet and soft, words directed at the trainee. His gaze was on MC who was still in a state of agony, her gasping still the only sounds in the room until he had begun to speak.

“I told them we shouldn’t have tried apparating with her, that we should wait for a portkey or summon for a healer to come to her.”

The trainee shook her head in sympathy, her mouth opening and closing, completely unaware of what to say, how to help the man who had brought MC to them to be saved. Sebastian understood this was one of the hardest parts of the job, of their careers. Dealing with the patients' friends and family. When MC’s body seemed to be wrapped up in a golden light, he exhaled softly, and lifted his wand from where it rested centimeters above her body, its tip lit with the same golden light. Then, he sent his trainee out to assist the other healers with their work.

He attempted to crack a joke, to lighten the mood now that he knew he could fix her, heal her.

“Turns out some Aurors do have brain function. Wouldn’t have expected it to be you though, Prewett.”

Sebastian felt a bit of satisfaction when his playful jab pulled Leanders gaze away from the girl in the bed, and on him with a roll of his eyes and a small smirk. It wasn’t Leander who returned the banter, however. The choked words and sound of MC’s voice made both men startle.

“Fuck off, Sallow.”

Sebastian couldn’t help the grin that split his face, and Leander wore a matching one as he looked back at her, quickly pulling his hand away from where he still had it laid on her head. She was still twitching slightly and her face was still contorted in pain, but the curse leaving her body and the slowing of the blood flow must have had her pain dissipating just enough to be coherent.

“Well, seems she’s at least in good spirits.”

Leander spoke first, and Sebastian knew he had to pull himself together. His mind already running with hope that this could be what brings MC back to him, this could be his chance to redeem himself to the last person alive he still felt indebted to do so.

When MC met Leanders gaze, and her pained look twisted into an almost smile, Sebastian swallowed thickly, his arm moving to pull out another potion from the cabinet.

“You two together, then?”

Before either Auror could respond to his query, a knock on the door pulled all three of their attentions towards it. It opened slowly, revealing an older, official looking wizard, who barely glanced at the girl in the bed before turning his stoic gaze on Leander. “Prewett. Boss wants your statement. Now.”

Leander stiffened, his eyes flicking between the man in the door, MC and Sebastian. Who was torn between wanting information and wanting to be rid of the one thing standing between him and being alone with MC. He continued his work, pretending not to pay any attention to the exchange as he gently applied the potion to the two gaping wounds in MC’s abdomen.

MC hissed at the sensation of the liquid dripping into her body through her lesions and she spoke to Leander through gritted teeth, her voice tight with pain, assuring him she would be fine. Prewett rolled his eyes, but patted her arm gingerly, and made his departure with a small scowl.

Sebastian kept his gaze on his work on the injuries, smiling when he watched the essence of dittany do its job, stitching her flesh back together. His grin grew wider when it stayed that way, his mind now reverting back to what he could possibly say now, with his work nearly done, the girl beneath him nearly healed.

“Merlin, that feels so weird every time.” MC’s voice sounded lighter, less tight and laced with pain as she commented on Sebastian’s healing work on her damaged body. Sebastian tilted his head to smirk down at her, another playful glint in his eye.

“Finding yourself injured quite a bit then, MC?”

Clearly uncomfortable with the seemingly imbalanced power dynamic with Sebastian standing above her, MC tried to raise herself up into a sitting position with shaky arms, ignoring his teasing comment. Despite the pain dissipating with the disappearance of her wounds, she was still quite pale and Sebastian could see the dizziness in her eyes. He instinctively grasped her shoulders to lie her back down on the bed, earning himself a scowl that brought him right back to age 15 when he’d try and steal from her Honeydukes haul.

“Oh wipe that scowl off your face, I’m trying to help you, you know. I’ve already saved your life.” Sebastians tone was firm, but laced with a familiar playfulness he always felt with her. “You’ve lost a lot of blood, MC. It’s why you feel so weak.” MC, in fact, did not wipe the scowl from her face, but she did lie back down. Sebastian was grateful for the small victory as he popped the cork of the last vial, the one the trainee had fetched for him from the alchemy lab.

He offered the vial to MC with a small smile, and an expectant look.

“Drink up, Buttercup.”

Her scowl deepened, but she obediently took the vial with shaking hands, but before she tipped it back she looked back at Sebastian.

“Am I at least allowed to ask what this is or am I just supposed to trust you?”

Sebastian knew she meant nothing more from her choice of words, but they stung just the same. His mind ran off with memories of everything he had put her through with her trust in him. How he had lost her trust, her friendship, her love for him with his reckless pursuit in their adolescence.

He recovers quickly, with a roll of his eyes as he tilts the vial up to her lips with two fingers.

“It’s just a blood replenishing potion, I promise. Now, drink before you pass out.” He crosses his arms, watching her expectantly, before cracking another joke and making a move to stop her from downing the vial. “On second thought, if you do pass out I won’t have to put up with your sass.”

MC shoots him an unconvincing glare as she swallows the dark red liquid, wincing at the taste. It was hard to believe that it had been nearly six years since the two had seen one another, and had been even longer since they’d had a proper conversation. Yet, here they were, falling into easy banter as if no time at all had come to pass.

As Sebastian brings the vial back to the depository to send it back to the Alchemy room, MC clears her throat, and with the effects of the potion already settling into her system, she sits up in the bed using arms that are now much more stable.

“We aren’t… together, just so you know. Leander and I. We’re just friends, partners at work, but not… together.”

When Sebastian doesn’t respond right away, because he’s lost in a sea of thoughts of everything more this could mean for him, for the hope he had slowly building inside his heart. She speaks again, her voice sounding much more irritable.

“You asked, before… which is why I’m telling you. You asked.”

Sebastian gives her another teasing grin, quirking an eyebrow at her ready defense as he returns to her bedside.

“Ah, and here I thought you were simply coming onto me. Wouldn’t be surprising if I'm honest. Happens all the time, when I save pretty little witches from their untimely demise. Quite common for Healers actually.”

MC scoffs, crossing her legs beneath her on the bed. Her strength and personality slowly coming back to her again, with an adequate amount of blood now pumping through her veins.

“Clearly your ego hasn’t dissolved with age, Sebastian.”

Sebastian manages an easy laugh at her retort, the clipboard coming from the wall and into his hands. His mind running off with thoughts on just how long he could keep her here, at St. Mungos, under healer advisement. Keep her here with him, take away any chance for her to bolt back out of his life, give him a chance to make things right.

“Quite the opposite, really. I’m surprised I don’t fall over with how big my head is.”

MC rolls her eyes, muttering something about it’s so full of air I’m surprised you don’t float away. Her gaze falling to the clipboard in Sebastians’ hands.

“You’re not keeping me here, are you?”

Sebastian glances away from the form in his hand, and at MC’s scowling face ready for a fight. He lets out a heavy sigh as he drops the clipboard, and crosses his arms over his chest, giving her his best stern look of authority.

“You were cursed, MC, and you lost a decent amount of blood.”

The Healer should have known better than to expect MC to see logic and sense. She bristled at his words, swinging her legs from the bed with a look of determination. Sebastian half-hoped she’d wobble as she stood, then he could at least feel justified in his desire to keep her here.

No such luck. MC stood in a firm stance, and then pranced around the small room. As if to prove she was well and able to get the hell out of this place. Sebastian couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped him at her antics that were bordering on playful. She continued moving around, glaring at Sebastian all the while. Though luck was back on his side, when she attempted a spin. The motion giving way to a bout of dizziness that had Sebastian catching her with a small, exasperated, laugh.

Sebastian guided her back to the bed, a look of triumph on his face as she blinked slowly, trying to steady the whirling inside of her head. He raises his arms in innocent submission when he tries to help her onto the bed, which had earned him a deadly glare.

“Habit, MC. This is my job after all.” He defends himself with a signature smirk, the corner of his mouth tilting slightly upward. MC made a sound in her throat, as she settled back on the bed, her glare unsubsiding.

“Yes, well. I still feel as though I’m alright to leave, Healer Sallow. I promise not to spin in circles like a buffoon for the foreseeable future.”

Sebastian hummed thoughtfully, doing everything he could to avoid looking at her face, each time he had since her return to the world of the living, it felt like the vice around his heart tightened further, stealing the air from his lungs. He busied himself with his clipboard, flipping the pages of parchment as if searching for something.

“Oh? No apparating? No traveling by Portkey? Going to travel like a proper muggle are you?” When his words got no snarky defense from the girl lying on the bed, he forced himself to look at her and fixed his tone back to Healer, rather than something akin to a friend. “I can’t force you to stay, MC, but I’d feel much more comfortable if you, at the very least, stuck around for just a few more hours. Until I am absolutely certain you are alright.”

MC heaved a dramatic sigh, huffing and puffing as she made a show of getting comfortable on the bed. Her eyes narrowed in his direction all the while, looking much more like a petulant child than a fearless Auror. Sebastian took her silent movements as an agreement, under the assumption this is the best he would get from the prideful girl.

“Oh come now, MC, no need to pout. Come on, sweetheart, give me a smile.” That did the trick, Sebastian thought, as he watched the fire light in her eyes once again at his words, her head whipping around to face him. Though, before she had a chance to speak or curse, Sebastian continued on. “Would you like to hear a joke? Always seems to cheer up my pouting patients, though they’re usually children… but I suppose with your current behavior you’re one and the same.”

He gave her a cheeky grin to counter her deadly glare.

This is nice, he thought to himself, Just like we’re fifteen again.

“If looks could kill…” The Healer muttered, his smile unfading. “Now, What’s a vampire's favorite ship?” He let the start of his joke hang in the air, completely aware that MC would not offer up the punchline. He delivered it with a theatrical grin and open hands. “...A blood vessel.”

MC met his joke with a loud groan, her eyes closed but the hint of an exasperated smile on her face.

“Please, Sebastian. Six years later and your jokes still suck?”

Sebastian’s heart pounded in his chest, six years, since they had seen one another. It had been even longer since the two of them had been anything that could be considered remotely close. He knew this, of course. The thought plaguing his brain whenever he was still, whenever he couldn’t fill it with his work, or distract himself with pretty witches he found in pubs.

It was hearing it from her mouth, in her words, that had his hands pausing from where they had been scrawling a note to send to the Alchemy lab. They trembled now, with a mix of anticipation and dread. Sebastian took a deep breath, his exhale slow, the sudden reality settling on his chest and clearing his head of anything but his need to fix this, to bring her back. He tapped the parchment with his wand, watching it fold itself up into the shape of a bird before flitting towards the door. He walked over to release it into the corridor, allowing it to continue to its destination.

Sebastian slowly shut the door, turning back around to face the girl he had been desperately and painfully missing for the better part of a decade, who was now two feet away from him with a small smile on her face, from his dreadful joke. The click of the door closing again seemed to suck all of the air out of the small room, and that smile was fading now, MC picking up on the sudden, awkward tension.

He ran his hand over the back of his neck, awkwardly. Wondering how the hell one even starts a conversation such as this. He decides that’s exactly where to start. All these years later, after all of the mistakes and avoidance and emotional immaturity, the only thing that needed to be said was the truth, and Sebastian decided that would start now.

No matter how awkward and tense the conversation may be, Sebastian was not going to give up this chance, perhaps his only chance at saying what he had been wanting to say for years. He had to do it for himself, and for the hope that still flickered in his heart for them, together.

“MC… I… I don’t even know where to start with this… with me… and you… and us.”

He clears his throat again, forcing down the growing lump of emotion that was threatening to overcome him. His gaze flicked from where he had taken a sudden interest in the stone floor, to MC, who was now white as a sheet and her chest heaving, in quick and short bursts.

Sebastian continued on, certain that her demeanor was from him, his words, and not remnants of the curse she had befallen. He pulled the chair meant for visitors of patients, and slid it close to her bedside, seating himself on it. Moving his eyesight to his sweating hands clasped in front of him, away from the girl staring at him with wide eyes.

“Suppose the best place to start is with an apology… though I don’t think there’s anything I can say or do that would even come close to proving to you how sorry I am. For how I treated you, how I let myself pull away from you… and never even tried to come back.”

He paused to swallow, to try and work something into coherency in his head. He startled when MC swung her legs off the side of the bed to face him head on, her voice seeming much louder than it was in the silent room.

“What are you talking about, Sebastian?”

Her words left him reeling with confusion, and he managed to make himself look at her, slightly above him with her position on the bed. MC’s face was concerned, laced with confusion that only served to deepen his own.

“I.. um.” Perhaps she had forgotten? Or this had only been a heartbreaking journey for him? Perhaps his last two years in school, drowning in grief had addled his brain? His recollection?

He didn’t know the answers, and his racing pulse seemed to quicken even further. Still, he had to keep trying. He couldn’t, wouldn’t let her leave again. Not without hearing everything he had always meant to say, before it had been too late. Sebastian ran his hands down his face, as if to wipe away the confusion, the anxiety and he heard her take a deep, shaking breath just as he had minutes ago.

When he removed his hands, MC was meeting his gaze. Her eyes now swimming with tears of her own. They were mirrors of one another. Hands clasped in laps, pulses racing, cheeks twinged pink, eyes filled with tears threatening to fall. The Healer was certain, if he concentrated just hard enough, he would be able to hear the sounds of their hearts pounding in the silent room.

They kept a locked gaze for a beat, before she closed her eyes, a look of anxious determination crossing her face as she did so. As if willing herself to trudge on.

Then, she touched him.

She leant forward, to curl her fingers around his shoulders, over the stains of her blood still present on his robes, as if to steady him, steady both of them. Despite the air leaving his lungs at the feeling of her hands on his body, no matter how innocent the touch, He felt his pulse evening out. The look in her eyes was full of hurt and concern, not anger or resentment.

“Have you… thought this… us… was your fault all this time? That you were solely responsible for… this?”

Her words settled in his mind, exacerbating his confusion, because of course he was. This was all his fault, just as everything that had transpired in their schooldays was his fault. The look on his face must have betrayed his thoughts because as his mouth opened, ready to spill everything. She cut him off with a laugh, an incredulous look on her face as she looked past him. Sebastian could nearly see the gears turning in her mind, he waited for her to return from whatever recesses of her mind she had retreated too before he tried speaking once again.

Once again, being cut off by the girl he knew he was still desperately in love with.

“I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you, not really anyway. I just… am baffled that you have spent the better part of ten years believing that the death of our friendship rested entirely on your shoulders.”

Sebastian was the one feeling dumbfounded. He had been the one to seal himself away from anyone who tried to show him the tiniest bit of kindness after Solomon’s death. He had been the one to disappear nearly entirely when he got word of Anne joining their Uncle in an eternal rest. It had only been Ominis that he allowed to stand by his side as he buried her beside Solomon, if only as yet another offering of remorse for his actions that brought them all to that moment.

Of course the distance between Sebastian and MC was entirely his fault. He was the one who put it there, drove a wedge between them with his grief and his guilt. When he opened his mouth to say so, to explain, to accept the responsibility his voice was soft, and sincere.

“Because it was, MC. I was the one who disappeared. Who created this distance between us, built a wall and didn’t let anyone behind it. It was all entirely my fault. You were the one always chiding me about accepting the consequences of my actions, of my choices. That’s what I’m doing. Hoping that by doing so, we can… start over.”

MC took his admission with another breathy laugh, and a roll of her eyes. It had Sebastian contemplating what he possibly could have been missing from this equation. Why was she acting as though he was innocent? As though he had done nothing to cause this rift between them? Was it Pity? The thought of the girl he had pushed away, pitying him was enough to create a pit the size of a graphorn in his stomach. When he spoke again, his voice was soft and shaking.

He steeled himself, and said the one thing he had always, viscerally, wanted to say.

“I loved you, MC. I still love you. Even when I was acting as though I couldn’t care less about you. I was in love with you. There’s a part of me that thinks that I always will be, which is why I need you to listen to me. Let me try and fix this! Because there’s also a part of me that still believes you love me too.”

His voice raised an octave, as passion flowed through him and his speech. Sebastian took another risk, taking her cold hands into his, his thumbs gently caressing the unbelievably soft skin on the backs of her hands.

“Please.”

The tears that had been building in her eyes finally fell as Sebastian stared into her face with impassioned determination. He watched as they raced down her cheeks, falling onto their clasped hands. He watched as she took another shaky breath, squeezing her eyes shut tight.

“No, Sebastian. It was me. I left. I could have tried harder to be there for you when… after… Well, everything. But I didn’t want to. I was sick over how much you had lost because of me. I should have listened to Ominis when he told me not to encourage you with the relic. I should have stopped you from… I should have stopped you that night in the catacombs with Solomon. I could have and I didn’t.”

She takes a beat, to breathe deeply again.

“Then, Anne. Merlin. I… I just couldn’t… I couldn’t bear to… to be around you after she. After I couldn’t save her. The guilt of everything that was my fault, and seeing how hurt you were because of it all. I just… I distanced myself from you. It was me, Sebastian. I wanted this, because I was selfish and couldn’t accept what I had done, that I had played a part in all of your pain. Because I loved you too.”

The room was silent once again. Save for the sounds of their shared labored breathing, both of them trying to catch their breath after their passionate confessions and exclamations. Both of them trying to absorb the other's words. They had lived entirely separate lives, distanced themselves from one another because they both believed themselves to be at fault. If they could have just talked to one another, all those years ago, perhaps it wouldn’t have had to be this way. Perhaps MC wouldn’t have had to face death to see Sebastian again.

Sebastian was about to shoulder more blame, tell her how he could have chased her, could have tried harder once he had crawled out of his hole of grief stricken depression. Though before he could say anything, he was smiling softly, his eyebrow quirked with mild amusement and curiosity. He gave her hands a gentle squeeze.

“Loved? As in past tense?”

Despite it all, that incessant hope in his heart flickered still, and he held his breath while he watched her expression soften. Her hands dropped his, and she caressed his face with gentle fingers. “Don’t think I let myself think about it too much, or for too long… because it’s painful too. But I think you know that I do, still, love you, Sebastian.”

He did know, deep, deep down, but still, he wanted to hear her say it. It had been worth it, hearing those words from her mouth had his heart feeling like it was going to burst forth from his chest. The tears of guilt and anxiety now replaced with tears of joy he had not felt in a long, long time. It felt as though the weight of the entire world was lifted from his chest, like he was breathing fresh air for the first time after months underground.

Sebastian stood up, to hold MC’s face in his hands and stare into her eyes, hoping that she could sense his sincerity.

“We were both stupid kids. Didn’t know what the hell we were doing, I’m still sorry, and I will forever blame myself for us being in this position now… but we’re not kids anymore. Do you think… Do you think we could do this? Fix this? Be together?”

He was nervous to ask, but the look in her eyes wasn’t dowsing his hope, it was igniting it. Her lips slowly curled into a smile, and her voice was soft, and as sincere as he felt.

“I’d like to try.”

No sooner had the words left her mouth when his lips were pressing against hers, his fingers moving to tangle into her hair, still caked with her own blood. Some part of Sebastian expected to feel sparks, or some dramatic swell of emotion that made him weak in the knees, but the kiss settled into his heart like he’d been dosed with a calming draught, like this is where he had always meant to be, with her lips on his.

Sebastian had been so lost in the moment, in this reconciliation with MC, he had forgotten he was at work, on shift, as a Healer. The thought had managed to weasel its way into his mind, ruining the passionate moment with MC, and it felt like he had been doused with ice water.

He pulled away with an apologetic smile, and his fingers still on her chin.

It had been just in time, as at that moment the door swung open, revealing his Trainee Healer, having returned with more vials of blood-replenishing potion he had ordered for MC. He hoped that the position they were discovered in could be seen as an innocent exam.

Sebastian managed to ignore the teasing grin MC was giving him, with her back to the Trainee. He met his fellow Healer halfway into the room and accepted the vials with a smile and a thank you before she left once again, shutting the door quietly.

When Sebastian turned back around, to set the vials onto the side table beside the bed, MC had laid herself back against the pillows, playing the role of innocent patient well.

He stood beside the bed, unable to fight his smile or the urge to caress her hair as he stood at her bedside. Sebastian tried putting himself back into the role of Healer, and not lovesick former school friend.

“My shift is up in a few hours. Will you behave and be a good patient until then? Please? We can… talk.”

MC gave him a mischievous grin, and made a show of settling herself into the bed.

“I suppose I can stick around for a few more hours. I’ll be sure to be the most needy patient you have ever had the misfortune of dealing with.”

Her teasing comment seemed to bring the oxygen back into the room, the tension dissipating instantly as he rolled his eyes and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. The tender moment making his heart swell, one he had had many a daydream about.

“I’d expect nothing less.” He slid the bottles of potion across the wooden side table, and closer to MC. “I’ll be back to make sure you take these. One every half an hour until I’m certain you have an adequate amount of blood back in your body.”

MC rolled her eyes, and Sebastian returned it with a grin before moving towards the door of the exam room and slipping outside. Before he fully left the room, he peeked back inside.

“Hey MC?” Once he had her attention, he said what he wanted to say. “I’m glad you got cursed today.”

Sebastian managed to close the door with a loud laugh, and made his way down the corridor towards his next patient, before he had to endure whatever scathing retort or hex MC undoubtedly had for him.

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x f!mc #GOD this is nerve wracking #i have never been so nervy to post a fic lmao #why are fic endings so damn hard #ok here it is have fun enjoy #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic

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