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ctrlhope · 3 days
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The Pitfalls of Silk (m)
synopsis: The winter gods are out to get you. That could be the only possible explanation for the series of bad luck tumbling before you— tropical vacation cancelled, snow locking you inside. Hell, even your shovel broken in half has got to be the gods playing some sort of trick on you. Pulling you along, making decisions for you as they guide you along the red string of fate. Guide you towards the very spider that found his way into your basement. Allowing him to fall into your heart all the same. -> apart of the rest, relax, reserve series
p.jimin x f.reader
⋆𐙚┊: wc: 20.0k
⋆𐙚┊: genre: hybrid au, soft yandere, soulmate au, romance, fluff, smut, v light angst
⋆𐙚┊: content: spider hybrid!jimin (cobalt blue tarantula), human!reader, soft yandere jimin, dom!jimin, power imbalances, blood, blood kink, injury, mates / mating, stupid misunderstandings, reader is rlly bad at feelings, heat/rut cycles, jealousy, biting/marking, jimin has fangs, brat taming, light subspace, bondage, fingering, breeding / breeding kink, unprotected sex, cumplay, overstimulation, manipulation, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of venom, honestly rlly soft- jimin is just a little off his rocker, so many mentions of the word silk, jimin is soft for reader but also a little perverted freak <\3
⋆𐙚┊: notes: AHHH it’s finally here!!! I’ve had such a bad crush on spider jimin for such a long time. Creating his character over the years in my head— how exactly this type of hybrid would function was so fun for me. This fic (& the others that follow) has been spurred on by my special interest in arthropods so I hope you end up loving this jimin as much as I do <33 mwah I kiss u guys
18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni
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The weather has grown cold, too harsh for anyone to live outside— survive. Burly temperatures tumbling through the air in icicles, the entire world painted in white.
While the city was still busy, your quaint neighbourhood had gone completely quiet. Everyone huddled inside, trying to keep warm while they sipped on cocoa. The worst blizzard in generations deciding to tumble through on the exact weekend you were meant to go out of town. Meant to be enjoying a tropical beach with the best of your friends!
But nooo, all of the planes had to stay grounded and you had to be stuck in your house with nothing but chilly embers decorating your fireplace.
You were pissed about it all, to say the least. Annoyed that your vacation had to be cancelled, annoyed at the fact you couldn’t stay warm in the slightest, annoyed that you had to be shovelling snow out of your driveway right now.
Well, attempting to shovel snow would be a better way to put it. In theory it seemed like the right thing to do– try and get your car out just in case, start to clear a path for when you’d finally be able to greet the outside world, triumph over whatever winter gods are trying to keep you locked in your home.
In reality, you could hardly move– three layers of pants, two coats keeping all of your joints locked down. God, and the snow. It was coming down way too hard, piling up faster than you could brush it away. Hurting your cheeks with the freezing temperatures, making your bones throb with want to go back inside.
It is safe to say that you did not succeed. That was an easy enough conclusion to come to with the two halves of your snow shovel in your hands. Eyes staring blankly at the object with utter… you don’t even know the word.
Cheeks flushed red with cold, head lifting to the sky as you blink. What the fuck! How shitty can your shovel be! What the fuck is wrong with the snow!
Okay, maybe you did buy it at the dollar store. But that isn’t the point! Where has quality gone in our nation! Caring about the consumer! Yeah, that was never there to begin with! But still! You like to think that there's a point in that somewhere!
The snow falling on your skin feels like the sky is laughing at you, mocking you. It probably is. Cancelling your trip, forcing you to stay at home into the lonely confines of your small neighbourhood.
Yeah, the world is out to get you, you’ve decided it.
A grumble leaves your throat in annoyance, quiet cusses leaving your lips as your legs try to waddle themselves inside. Layers of clothing restricting every movement you make, joints feeling stiff and bones feeling cold. You are no more than a penguin, are you?
“Stupid fuckin’ shovel, stupid fuckin’ snow…” You huff, slamming the thick oak door behind you. Hoping, in a way, that you could pretend none of the frost was there in the first place.
It’s not that you hate snow– of course not. You don’t like to hate much of anything. But when it’s this deep, this thick, you can’t help the sour mood you fall into. Can’t help the sickly feeling in your gut that it has somehow wronged you simply for existing.
Whatever, not that it matters much. You aren’t mother nature. You can’t change it or your now cancelled– most likely non-refundable plans.
What you can change? A nice warm pizza in your tummy.
You hum to yourself, tapping off your boots before ridding yourself of them entirely. Soon follows your jackets, puddles of water quickly forming on the floor where it falls. Snow melting much too fast now that it is in the warmth of your home.
You stare at it in spite, another way mother nature has wronged you today.
You know what? No, not your problem right now. That is a problem for you later today! The wood would be fine. And if it isn’t?
You groan, throwing your head back as you move to the bathroom. The battle of opposing forces inside of your head has won again– being responsible, doing the right thing.
Your hand snatches a towel, “Stupid shovel… stupid snow…” You huff, kneeling on the ground to wipe away the liquid that pooled.
You hang the towel back in the bathroom for it to dry before finally making your way to the kitchen. To finally make the frozen pizza you want– no deserve! Yeah, you’ve had a hard day today, being an adult is too hard sometimes. You deserve a little treat don't you?
Feet scuffling against the floor, fluffy socks dragging along the surface allowing you to quickly slip against the tiled floor. Your hips sway, a quiet hum leaving your lips as your hands move diligently, efficiently. Placing the pizza in the oven, setting the timer, flipping the switch on on the kettle.
Everything happens with practised ease. With movements that leave no room for error. Careful, efficient, the way your parents always taught you. The right way.
If you do everything correctly, things will never go wrong. You’ll never have to worry. When everything is in your control, everything is perfect and content.
It’s too bad the right way never accounts for things out of your control. When the world causes you to tense and get annoyed– when it doesn’t behave the way it's supposed to, like you want it to. Just like stupid shovels and a winter storm no one predicted.
But hey, at least you still have power. Your backup generator is there if you need it. Can still watch your dramas and eat warm food. Keep yourself sane while the insane persits just outside of your door.
Lonely, lonely, lonely winter storm~ whatever shall you do~
Your head begins to sing to itself while you wait. Maybe you already were going insa–
Bang.
What the fuck was that?
Your eyes instantly dart to the basement door wide with fear– the source of the sound.
A crash, a quiet cry, a scurry all sound in quick succession. Too loud to miss. Too loud to ignore. Too distinct to place on anything else.
You know winter noises. The crash of shutters against the window, the influx of snow on glass. The beating of hail against the roof or the creaking of pipes chilled from the cold. The noises you just heard? None of the above. They couldn’t possibly be. They weren’t. They were too… too…
Human.
Shit, shit. Is someone in your basement?! Oh god, oh fuck.
The room, it freezes over.
Your pulse starts to race– hairs raise, stand on end. Breath filtering through your nose as you start to panic. Fingers grip the countertop as you try to ground yourself. Try to figure out a way to escape this.
If horror movies have taught you anything– it’s how to run. Grab everything you can, high tail it out before you become victim to the unknown lurking just below the surface of your floorboards. Before you can be possessed or worse, chased down by some mass murdering clown.
That would be the smart thing to do– the wise thing. To get out of your house as quickly as possible, call the police to investigate it for you before you have to become the ‘final girl’ of a movie franchise of your own.
But the storm, the storm would never allow for the right thing.
The police would never make it in time, the roads far too hazardous to truly reach you. If they did, you would already have frostbite from the cold outside by the time they made it. You might be worse off than before–
At least, that’s what you tell yourself. The reasoning formulated in your head as you grab a broom from the closet, slowly make your way to the basement door. Completely ignoring the nagging feeling in your gut, the one that tells you that you actually want to travel down the stairs. A string tugging you along a path predetermined, forcing you to forego anything you had thought before.
No, your line of reasoning had to be the object pulling you down those stairs, creaking with every slow, nagging step that you take. It could never be curiosity, a want to understand the unknown guide leading you astray from the dirt road you’ve taken time and time again.
The right road that would lead to the right solution is all but forgotten in this moment. Only adrenaline spurring you on, fingers clenching and unclenching around the broom handle in your grip. Fingers tied so tight around the metal that your knuckles may as well be white.
You're terrified– scared out of your mind. The only noise passing through the drums of your ears is your own pulse, the accelerated beat of your heart as you try to clear the fog that dances over your brain. Fear must be clouding your judgement, making you follow it blindly into the light; well, dark.
Your breath leaps from your chest in short pants, eyes haphazardly harding around your form as you make it to the bottom of the stairs. Something is keeping your legs moving when all your brain wants to do is turn back and run. Call the authorities like you should be doing instead of risking everything to satiate the incessant need pulling at the back of your skull. Acting on instincts alone, allowing the string of fate to tug you around the corner. The urge to investigate is stronger than anything you had ever felt before. Anything you’ve ever wanted to feel before.
He sees you before you see him.
“P-please..” The quiet, almost non-existent voice sends a chill down your spine. One you were not expecting in the slightest.
Terrified, panicked. Shaking like a leaf, eyes welled with tears. It’s almost like he knew you were coming down all along, just… didn’t know what to do about it. Too scared to move, too scared to hide. Too scared to do anything but sit there and wait.
Just as petrified as you.
Nothing about the scene before you is making much sense at all. Not to you, at least. Why is he so scared? Why is he in your home? Why isn’t he doing anything but sitting there with pleading, helpless eyes? You try to take everything in, try to fit the pieces of the picture together.
Basement window opened slightly, just enough to allow the man— was he a man? To climb inside. Pretty blonde hair completely dishevelled on his head, grime coating what you know would be such pretty locks. Eyes with double pupils brimmed with tears threatening to spill at any second. Pink plush lips quivering with worry, fangs biting into them so hard you fear they may bleed. No, they are bleeding.
He is definitely not a man. Nor is he a beast. An intoxicating swirl of the two combined into a species of hybrid you’ve never seen before.
The first thought in your head is one it shouldn’t be. One that makes your heart stop for entirely different reasons than before. Makes you drop the broom in your hands, allowing it to fall to the ground with a clatter. Defences dropped completely in the face of the stranger before you.
He only flinches at the noise, blood covered hands reaching in panic to cover his all too sensitive ears.
Any worries have left you– something seeded deep within your soul tells you he isn’t a threat in the slightest. Not to you, at least. Never to you. Maybe it is the same string as before pulling you along. Pulling you to what destiny has provided.
He is absolutely gorgeous. Even with the grime and his pale complexion from the cold you can tell that easily. He might just be the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen, and you find lost in yourself what to do about it.
What is anyone meant to do when a drop dead gorgeous hybrid enters their home in the middle of a blizzard? Just as scared as you were moments before? Looking like he might freeze to death if you don’t–
Holy shit he must be frozen solid.
It’s only then that you come to your senses, your eyes racking over him once more as you take in all of him for more than just the beauty he brings.
His clothes are thin– far too thin for this weather at least. Tattered on the edges, few stains spotting the fabric, though its clear effort was spent trying to get them out. Your mind wants to wonder why he would worry about that, worry about making himself appear presentable, but raking your vision down you know there is no time for it. Not with the blood on his palms or the red of his flesh.
Your body moves quicker than your brain can think, crouching down in front of him. Noticing the way he flinches once more, the fear in his eyes more palpable, hurting worse than a gunshot wound.
The constriction of your chest is dumb, or at least it should be. Feels almost benign, unfounded. You just met him, you're scaring him, but for an unexplainable reason you wish you could take all of his worry away just for that moment. Make him feel a little better, a little warm. A little safe.
“It’s okay… it’s okay…” Your voice mumbles, trying to soothe him or yourself, you’re not entirely sure.
“I-I’m sorry… pl-please don’t.. It’s just so cold… Please…” He begs, though neither of you are sure what for. Not to hurt him, not to send him back outside. All you know is the tears that now flow from his eyes, cresting along his cheeks, dripping to the floor.
“Not going anywhere…” You hope your voice sounds stronger than you feel, hope he can’t hear the way the strings of your heart break, hope he hears how much you care in your tone all along, “Trust me a little okay…?”
You know your words mean nothing, that it might have been an impossible task for him to do so. But you had to try. Had to hope.
It should be hard for you to trust him too, it should be hard to rectify your fear in the face of the one who had caused it. It isn’t the right thing– none of this is the right thing, but it all just comes too easily. Compassion, caring takes over the anxiety too easily. Too brilliantly to do anything else other than care for this hybrid that has wound up at your door.
He was just a scared hybrid doing whatever he needed to to survive. Terrified out of his mind that he would freeze or starve out there– probably had no burrow or… you’re not sure, honestly, what his home might be like. But no home nevertheless. You could never just send another person out there to die.
He stiffens as you reach out for him, gently take his hands in your own. They feel like ice, frozen solid. You don't want to acknowledge what could have happened to them if he was out there any longer.
Without thinking you raise them to your lips, blowing on them as best you can. Trying to do anything to get the blood flowing again before you take him upstairs. Warm him up properly. Make him feel like more than a snowman once again.
You don’t notice the way his form completely loses all stress as you touch him for the first time, speak to him the first time. He feels transfixed on your voice– it had to be too sweet to be real. But you were too focused on your mission. Too focused on making sure the man who has broken into your home is okay to notice the way his lips part slightly at your tone.
You don’t notice the way his breath hitches, the way all of his hair stands on edge as a current runs through his body, breathing life into every pore he possesses. Nor the way his eyes widen, losing their will to cry as he stares at you.
Don’t notice the recognition on his face.
You don’t notice a lot of things he does that day. Too focused on getting him into a warm shower– one he was very confused by, you might add. Too focused on getting a warm meal in his belly. Too focused on getting him in nice, clean clothes. A set that will properly keep him warm.
You could worry about other things later. But this felt right. This felt like something you were always meant to do. Or maybe that was just the size of your heart talking– you could never be too sure. But you liked to think it was the former. Liked to hope that Jimin, who you later learned was a spider hybrid, was always meant to come tumbling through your window, into your life for good.
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The days that follow are easy– falling into a rhythm with him, taking care of him is just too simple. As basic as breathing, maybe.
Though, it hasn’t exactly been hard with how much he sleeps. How deep he’s nestled in your bed, blankets piled on top of him to drown out any chills that may attempt to slip into his bones. It’s almost like hibernation– if you could describe it. Re-building his energy, making himself feel strong again before he faces the world.
You can’t blame him, honestly. Not after everything he’s been through. Only god knows how long he had been out there. How long he had to brave the snowstorm, the cold weather that previewed it as well. You would probably do the same thing. Hide yourself from everything that hurt you.
Most days you wish you could be doing the exact same thing as him. Hide under a pile of blankets and forget the rest of the world exists. But the voice of your parents would always nag you out of it, force you to be human with the rest of society because it's the right thing.
You humph, gently placing a plate of food on the bedside table. Let him occupy your room for as long as he needs, preparing meals for him even though he never touches a bit of it. It’s the least you can do with his condition.
You don’t think you’ve ever wanted to stop someone's pain so badly. You hope you can by just doing small things like this. You sigh, heading for the door once again. Another day on the couch.
“Human…?” His voice is quiet, almost non-existent as he calls for you. Cracking slightly, the first time he's spoken in days.
You quickly turn to face him and almost want to fall to your knees at the sight. Fluffy blonde hair peeking from just below the covers, doll eyes peering at you while the rest of him stays hidden beneath the surface. Does he know how destructive he is?
Wait, no. Now isn’t the time to be thinking about this. He’s letting his defences down, actually talking to you. Stop it.
“Hmm?” You gently call back, glued to your spot in the doorway. You don’t know what he would do if you moved, how startled he may be because of it. You want to talk to him– to find answers.
“What time is it…?” He slowly asks, pacing his question. You notice a slight lisp behind his words– how much of an effort he puts to cover it up.
“Mmm.. about 1? I made myself some lunch so I was just stopping by.” You explain, trying to justify your presence in the room.
“Oh.” He looks beneath the blankets, eyes darting around the room, “Okay. Thank you.”
It seems neither of you are great conversationalists, awkward air passing between the space left between your bodies. You don’t blame him. You don’t know what you would be thinking, feeling if you were in the same place as him. If you didn’t really know what your fate was going to be.
“How are you feeling?” You ask quietly, playing with your fingers to distract from the nerves that you feel. As much as you want to jump, pin him down and ask every single thing your heart begs for, you know that isn't the right thing to do. You know you should be slow, careful with this. At least, that's what the articles online have told you.
“Better…” His voice comes out smoother this time, finally coming out of sleep as he sits up in the bed. Gently taking the plate into his lap, scrunching his nose. “It’s not cold in here like out there.”
You can’t help but smile to yourself. He seems so relaxed, so at ease. Not scared in the slightest of you or what you may do. You forget all about the fact that you should probably be scared of him too.
“Not really,” You smile gently, eyes glancing at the window as he starts to eat, “I was really worried about you, scared me bad.”
You don’t see the flush that covers his cheeks.
“I-I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to… your window was the first one I could get through and I knew I couldn’t take the storm anymore so I–”
“Hey, It’s fine.” You turn your attention back to him, “I’m just glad you’re okay, yeah? It must’ve been terrifying out there.”
“It was.” He doesn’t hesitate in answering in the slightest, eyes serious as they focus on you. They’re beautiful, really. His eyes.
“I’m sorry…”
He shakes his head, “Not your fault human, I left the reserve. My fault.” He tells you in earnest, wanting you to believe it with every piece of your soul that you could never do anything to hurt him, “Come sit?”
The question is quiet, but you oblige nonetheless. Legs moving you slowly, perching at the end of the bed to face him. Kicking your legs slightly as you stare at the pattern of your sweats.
“The reserve?” You ask, turning slightly to face him. His face is suddenly smiling, nodding at your question. He must like the place a lot, see it as home for him to become so excited.
“Yeah! Where I live,” He explains, continuing to shovel food into his mouth as he speaks, “They say humans can't hurt you there, you get to hunt like in the wild too.”
He hums, content in talking about the one place he has ever found comfort in, found friends in. You can’t help but smile as he speaks, too.
“Yeah? It sounds really nice.” He’s nodding his head once again, as quickly as he can.
“There are lots of other arthropods to play with there. Lot’s of food. Sometimes the humans that visit will give you some too, but they’re normally scared of me.” He suddenly looks serious, eyes coming to meet yours once again, “You’re not scared of me, right?”
You jerk your head back, brows furrowing together in confusion. How could someone be scared of someone like Jimin? You’ve only known him for a matter of days and you doubt that you could ever be.
“Of course not.” You tell him, gently reaching a hand over to place on his knee. He doesn’t flinch away like you expect him to. “You just needed some help, we all need help sometimes.”
He smiles, the serious demeanour retracting from his face in an instant. Back to smiling down at his food happily. The silence doesn’t feel as awkward anymore, at least you don't think it does. It makes you happy, stretching on as he continues to eat like a man starved. He probably is, days of not eating and only sleeping.
“Why did you leave it?” You tilt your head, staring out the window once more. Few snowflakes trickle against the blue sky, “I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But I figure if we’re going to be together through the storm–”
“You’re not gonna kick me out?” His face is awestruck, fork dropping to the plate in surprise. What is he talking about? Kick him out? In this weather?
You quickly shake your head, hand slowly pulling itself back from your knee. He whines in protest, quickly trying to force himself back under your heat. The touch of your hand warmed him up more than anything else in this room– more than the blankets, more than the heater or the warm towels.
His hand tangles itself with your own, pulls you back to his covered knee. Keeps your hand in place with his own while he uses the other to eat. Good. This is better. He likes it when you touch him. The way your small hand feels wrapped in his own.
Makes the tips of his fingers tingle, warmth spread throughout his skin. This is right. This is good.
“Why would I kick you out?” You ask in disbelief, either unnoticing or uncaring to the way he holds your hand– he’s unsure. Not that it matters much! “It’s too cold for anyone out there. I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you.”
He smiles, the pit of his stomach only warming more at your words, “Good.”
“We have to wait for the snow to melt to drive you ba–” He cuts you off once again, not wanting to think about going back. At least not without you.
“My friend Taehyung leaves a lot,” He begins to explain, fingers squeezing your own as his palm lays heavy against the back of your hand, “He always talks about how fun it is. All the cool things he gets to see, you know?”
He places his plate to the side while he talks, licking one of his fangs gently. You don’t want to think about how handsome he looks while he does such an action.
“So I wanted to try it out, but we’re not really supposed to leave, you know? ‘Cause then we’re not protected.” You nod along, “And I don’t really have wings to fly out so… I had to wait until they weren’t really paying attention.”
“And that just happened to line up right before the snowstorm was supposed to hit.” You finish for him and he nods, looking down at his lap, “That has gotta be such shitty luck, Jimin. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s really not, you just wanted to go out and experience new things and you almost ended up dead.” You frown at him, trying to get the man to understand the gravity of what may have happened. He simply shakes his head, plush lips tilted into a small smile just for you.
“I said it’s okay.” He tries to make you believe it, leaning closer. Feeling nothing like the stranger he was only days before. “I got to meet you, so it was all worth it.”
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Mate. Mate. Mate.
Jimin has a mate that he’s going to be with someday. Someone he’s going to fall in love with. Someone he’s meant to be with, be happy with for the rest of his life. Someone that isn’t you. You really need to accept that and move on from this stupid fucking crush you’ve developed. One that will amount to nothing but heartbreak.
All hybrids have them– Jimin is not excluded from that. You know it’s true. Know it’s so true that you can hardly breathe but he just makes it so easy, too fucking easy to fall for him.
He takes care of the house, cleans it for you whenever there is a mess. Does the dishes after dinner. Takes out the trash. Tells the spiders in the yard not to mess with you– okay, you’re not entirely sure he does that last one. But he is adamant he can speak to them, and who are you to rain on his little spidey parade.
As the seasons change and the months pass, he only makes it easier and easier. Fitting into your life like he was the only piece missing. Filling in all of the bits and pieces you never knew you needed, wrapping silk around your heart and pulling it tight before you could ever think about letting him go.
Even as the months heat and his deep blue roots grow out from his bleached hair, he has no desire to the place he once called home. The reserve quickly pushed aside every time you try to bring it up. Saying he likes it better here, that this is now his home.
To be honest, nothing makes you more happy. Nothing in the world could possibly make you feel better than Jimin. His little webs he places in the corners, the soft way he clings to you when he becomes needy, the way he likes to show you any bugs he catches before he eats them. You’re not sure you could continue in your life without it.
Yet still, still. You’re not sure if this is right. The right thing, the right way to go about it all.
You often fear that you’re keeping him from what he really wants, if he actually wants to go back but feels indebted to you in some way. If that’s the only reason he actually sticks around.
You worry you’re being selfish in that regard. And then once again you find yourself spiralling into the void of questions you could never have answered. Feelings that will always be unaccounted for because Jimin has a mate.
Or at least, will have one. Someday. And you’re not sure if you could handle that day coming. Not in the warm heat of spring, flowers blooming alongside feelings for an arachnid that has entered your life.
One that has no intention of leaving your side anytime soon, if he has anything to say about it.
But nothing, nothing in the world could prepare you for this. What could prepare the thrum of your heart or the butterflies in your tummy? You never expected him to hold you this close, keep your body pressed against his own in the small space of the coat closet. Keep his face tucked away in your neck, whining in pain at something you could never think to discern.
So quickly you were pulled away, without a second to waste you were dragged onto his lap. One second kicking off your shoes, covered in mud from gardening, the next a hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you into the dark confines. Only Jimin there to cover up your scream, lips delicately pressed to your ear uttering a quiet please. Voiced laced with a whine so pained you couldn’t help but join him without a second to spare.
A thought to think– a debate on whether this is right to do or not, for yourself and your own heart.
“Min? Min, what’s wrong?” It’s the only thing you can think to ask, pulling him away from your neck, making his head face your own. Hands gently cupping either cheek as your eyes attempt to make out the features of his face.
It’s too dark, you can’t see anything. The only answer he gives is in the form of a pained groan, not even his eyes reaching you through the darkness. You start to panic, feel the nerves along your spine light up in trepidation.
He’s hurt. He has to be. What happened? Is he okay? He’s never acted like this before. Not with you. Never before has he seemed so hurt, so dishevelled save for the night you first met him.
Just before this the two of you were gardening, mid-morning sun shining bright overhead. A light breeze passing through the trees keeping the two of you cool. That was it! He only went inside a few minutes before you, a few minutes alone and he was already hurt this bad.
Oh god, you never want him to hurt. To be in pain. It hurts your heart just as bad as it hurts him, if not worse.
You’ve fallen a lot farther than you thought.
“Min, let me just turn on the lights okay? Let me see what’s wrong.” You try to coax him, try to kneel from his lap to reach the string above you. Panic flooding through you as he keeps you snug, keeps you from helping him.
You stop your struggle, veins running cold as he lets out a sharp, violent hiss. A sound he’s never made before, never dare uttered towards you– around you in general. It leaves you nervous, scared for entirely different reasons than before.
But one thing is clear from the way his fingers dig into the skin of your wrist almost painfully. The same wrist that was reaching for the string. He doesn’t want you to turn on the light.
“Okay…okay I won’t…” You tell the arachnid, slowly lowering yourself back onto his lap. Letting go of the struggle, letting go of the resistance. It isn’t what he needs right now, isn’t what he wants.
His grip loosens, arms returning to their place around your waist. Holding you close. Keeping you in his arms. His face nuzzles back into your neck, inhaling deeply with every breath he takes. Smelling you. Imprinting the memory of it in his brain.
“What if I use my flashlight…? Would that be okay?” Once again, the response is a much short, quieter hiss. A lot less defensive, angry than the first. Just a sign of dismissal.
“Okay…” You say quietly, bringing one arm behind him to gently run through his hair. Scratching his scalp in a way that always has him preening, “Can you please tell me what's wrong? So I can help…? Please…”
Your voice is quiet, almost a beg as you ask him. He squeezes your body tighter in response. Would’ve basked in the tone you gave him if not for the pounding behind his eyelids. Still, he knows if he’s going to get you to stay, he has to talk. No matter how much it hurts.
A whine leaves his lips, nose running along the column of your neck as he tries to scent you, “Hurts.”
He answered, his voice shaky and quiet, but it gives you nothing.
“I know Min, I know…” You hush quietly, trying to consol something that you do not have the answer to. Your other hand slowly starts to soothe up and down his back, trying to relax the poor boy enough to speak.
“The light. Hurt eyes. Head Hurts.” He gruffs out, burying his face into your skin to block out any other source that he could.
Your lips part in a soft ‘o’ as the picture becomes clear to you. Staying outside too long, helping you in the garden had come at a cost to the poor spider in the form of a splitting headache.
How could you have been so dumb to let him help you? The articles you’ve read, the pieces you’ve tried to put together to understand the man in your life– they told you as much. How delicate some species' eyes could be but… Jimin never seemed to have that issue before. Never mentioned it, anyway. He doesn’t mention a lot about himself.
You frown.
“Min, I’m so sorry…”
He only grumbles in reply, blunt nails digging into the back of your shirt to keep himself grounded. To keep his head from pounding any louder.
“Let me– Let me go get you some Ibuprofen, yeah?” You hope the sound of your voice isn’t making everything worse. If it does, he doesn’t say anything, only shaking his head, burrowing it further under your hair.
“Just… stay.” He sighs in defeat, shoulders relaxing as he holds you close. He doesn’t need medicine. He doesn’t need anything else. He just needs you. Why can’t you understand that?
“I’ll–” You breathe, trying to force the flush of your cheeks to disappear. He can see in the dark, you know that much. You wouldn’t want him seeing this. The effect he has over you. Doesn’t he know how dangerous he is?
“I’ll stay.”You sigh in defeat, unaware to the pride that blooms in his chest at the battle won. The quiet chirp from his throat that he has you here, with him. Where you’re meant to be.
Hours pass just like that, just the two of you wrapped in each other's arms. No words spoken but quiet requests to know the other is okay. That the other is safe. Even as your muscles begin to cramp, bones start to become sore you don’t dare to move. Don’t dare to do a thing when you are the only one that matters to him right now.
Jimin makes it so easy to pretend.
Especially as his migraine begins to lift, as the conversation between two souls becomes more frequent. As he moves your body to the side so your head can rest against his chest. As his fingers smoothe over the skin of your thigh, rubbing gentle, comforting circles into your flesh.
“And then Namjoon, you know how bad a flyer he is, ran straight into the director of the park. Made her spill her whole coffee all over.” He smiles to himself as he tells the story of the bee hybrid, eyes heavy as he looks down at your form. So cute and small, “and you know what he said?”
You shake your head, “what?”
“‘You need some honey?’” He recites, dipping his voice in a deeper octave to mimic what you can only assume to be Namjoon’s. His voice falling into quiet giggles, you quickly follow suit. Laughing at stories of friends, feeling at home in the dark closet.
You don’t care how long the two of you have been in there. Only that he isn’t in pain anymore.
“I’m glad you’re okay now.” You tell him, eyes feeling heavy, the soothing tremor of his voice vibrating in his chest making your head start to fog. Inklings of sleep slipping into your frame. Head lulling back against him, looking up at him with sleepy eyes.
He nods, his throat constricting at just how perfect you look there, fingers teetering on the brink of digging into your skin once more. “Feeling a lot better… my vision is still a little spotty but it's okay.”
You pout. He has to hold back a coo. Too cute. Do you even know how cute you are when you get like this? Probably not.
“No, it’s not okay. I should have known. Told you to go back inside so you don’t get hurt. I don’t like it when you get hurt.”
His heart pounds once, twice before he releases a shaky exhale. Do you know what you do to him when you talk like that? When you show him just how much you care?
The level of restraint he has, it has to be impressive. If he was Taehyung, he would have taken you right there. Wrapped your arms in webs so you couldn’t move. Mate you without a second thought.
Seriously, what did you think you were doing? Talking to him like that? Making him feel like he’s going insane, a few short strings from breaking free and just taking you to his nest. Keeping you there.
You can’t say things like that to him. Not with how innocent you look, with how terribly he already wants you.
A harsh breath comes out of his nose as he forces the thoughts away. He’s not Taehyung. He’s not going to take you for his own selfish desires alone. No, he’s going to keep lulling you into his web like he knows you want. Knows you need. Keep being a good little spider for you.
“I should have told you.” He says quietly, lips coming down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, “Couldn’t have known my species is sensitive like that.”
You hum in quiet annoyance, “Still… read online about some glasses that can help some insects manage light… should have bought them.”
A courting gift? No no, you don’t know what that is. No matter what his spider screams he knows that isn’t true.
He sighs, he needs a distraction. Something to calm the voice in his head screaming at him to kiss you.
Your leg kicks out gently as he starts, feeling like nothing but a feather tickling across your skin. Gentle silks laying across the surface from his wrists, spinnerets hard at work to produce the webbing he places on your thigh.
He huffs quietly, a smirk of a laugh coming out as he moves your leg back, “Tickles?” He asks, an amused lilt present in his voice. Oh god, he’s going to start teasing you again. He loves teasing you.
“What are you doing?” You ask quietly, eyes glancing down to where his fingers move expertly. Thread after thread moving through his fingers, decorating your skin as he draws pictures. Paints flowers, sunsets, anything he can think of really across the canvas of your thigh.
“Just drawing… calms me down.” Marking you, claiming you. Showing every other arthropod that this one is his, this one is Jimins’. Well, at least for the next 3 days when the stick wears off. “Do you want me to stop?”
A tingle runs through your spine as he works, eyes not able to leave his hands for even a second. Your stomach swarms with what has to be a hive of bees, your core bubbling with something you don’t want to describe or think about.
You just hope he can’t smell you. Can’t hear the race of your heart, the increase in breath. The flush on your cheeks that travels all the way to your ears.
He can.
“N-no… It’s okay. I want you to feel better so… do what you need to do.” You mumble, trying to get your feelings to calm down before you fully lose it.
You have to buy those glasses.
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Being a spider is just too difficult!
At least that’s what Jimin has told you time and time again over the past 8 months you’ve spent with him. Cold, icy months blossoming into the summer heat with him by your side. With him making residence in your home, cementing his place in your life without any regards for going back to his original home.
It’s too hard for him out there anyway! People at the park think you’re scary so they won’t give you any snacks, security removes your webs when they become too prominent around the landscape. Something about having to “give other spiders a chance” and them “taking up too much space.”
Can you believe them?! All the time and effort he put into his pretty webs, gone in a flash! The strain the sun caused his eyes, the pounding headaches he endured stringing up pieces of silk along the trees, creating a beautiful orchestra of white to claim his territory.
Thank god he doesn’t have to deal with that anymore, at least. Ever since you bought him those sunglasses, making webs outside has never been easier. Catching prey so much easier than ever before.
You don’t think you’ll ever get used to the sight of him eating the bugs he catches, but who are you to yuck his yum? You know all of the things he’s had to endure as a spider. Everything he’s convinced the world hates him for simply based on his breed alone. The least you can do is show kindness around his diet.
That’s how you end up rubbing his back in soothing circles time and time again, fangs piercing a stuffed animal or piece of fruit– anything he can get his hands on really, as he whines, flinches as he spits out all of his venom.
His venom is one of the worst things he’s had to deal with, you’ve learned. It builds up behind his teeth, waiting to be used on a waiting victim when there is no such thing. No exit point for the liquid to flow.
His fangs begin to ache, begging to pierce something just to release all of the pent up tension in his gums. It hurts too bad, too much to just keep it inside. So once a month, you find yourself in the same position, trying to help him relieve the aggression with soothing, gentle words as he spits the venom out in a way you can only imagine is unsatisfying. Leaving his fangs sensitive and achy for days to come.
In general, his fangs seem to be a point of special contention within the hybrid. They’re too pointy, cause too many issues. The extended canines digging into his plush lower lip just a little too hard making every movement just a little too uncomfortable. God, and he has to worry about brushing them to perfection– keep them pretty for his mate.
At least, that’s what he tells you.
The rest of the world hurts him. You don’t.
Today especially. At least that's what you can assume by the stretch of his arms, the whine bubbling from the back of his throat. His arms reaching for your form, beckoning you, calling you to join him on the couch. All worked up, acting like a wounded puppy that needs nursing just to get your attention.
It always works. Always will.
Some would say he’s become more pushy— more desperate for your attention, forcing it from your grasp without realizing it yourself. That’s what your friends have told you. How easily you fit into the palm of his hand with no more than a simple gesture coaxing you forward into his sweet embrace, never noticing the glares he sends others who enter your home.
No, you would deny all of it. Listen when he tells you that you don’t need your friends anyway. It just feels so good to be needed by him, wanted by him in a way you can never have him. In whatever way he’s willing to give.
r weakness than ever before. No matter how much you’ve tried to avoid it, how much you’ve tried to do the right thing and shove the stupid, pesky feelings down, he’s managed to twist himself into the confines of your heart. Filling a deep hole inside with his pretty silks and crooked little teeth. Takes up a lot more space then you’d ever be willing to admit. Not to him, anyway. Not when he could find his mate any day now.
You’ve been thinking about it more and more lately– the prospect of his mate. It’s difficult not to when he treats you so kindly. When he creeps in your bed at night to cold you, when he reaches out for your comfort alone. When he graces your neck with his fangs his lips–
You drop the dishes back in the sink, shoving your thoughts back into the deep dark recesses of your mind. Maybe if you can be his comfort for now, that will be enough. Even if it isn’t right.
Maybe that’s just how far you’ve fallen, how much he’s tangled you in his embrace. Not that it matters much, you smile all the same. Abandoning your task on only his third whine and fourth dramatic roll of the night. Giving in is so easy when it’s him.
But! It’s a new record for how long you’ve held out! Even got two stomps out of him. You should be proud of yourself.
Maybe you are, though it's for different reasons entirely as Jimin grabs at your wrists, pulling you down beside him. Nudging his face into the crook of your neck with a quiet, pained whine.
You like to ignore those other reasons. They’ll only hurt more if you face them head on. But it's hard to, so hard when he’s this close. When he’s holding you like you may just be the very thing from shattering his world apart.
Or maybe you’re over thinking things.
Yeah. It’s probably that.
“Y/n…” You feel his lips ghost your neck as he whines, wiggling slightly in discomfort.
His duality is always impressive, has been making your brain go a little haywire since he first moved in, since he became more comfortable in your presence. Letting you see him for what he really is. Always playing so cute, so pliant when he needs something– attention, food, for you to just give in and give him what he wants.
Other times he acts as if he could be the reincarnation of Arachne herself. Beautiful, deceptive. Terrifyingly aware of how attractive he is to the human eye. You think he does it on purpose. Likes to see your head spin as you try to keep up with which apparition of Jimin you will experience that day.
He doesn’t know how dangerous it can be, especially for you. How easy it can be to believe that it's real and not just the flirt of his personality. At least you have cute Jimin for now. It’s a little easier to manage.
“You okay Minnie? Something happen?” Your arm reaches up for where he clings to it, fingers gently petting through his fluffy blonde hair. The action seems to soothe him, make him almost pur from the feeling of your fingers alone. Make him feel the slightest bit better from whatever might be irritating him.
He forces his wrists onto your lap, nuzzles his face further into your neck. Inhale all the scents you have to offer. Let you see the issue of spiders.
The tiny holes of his spinnerets come into view, red and inflamed. Shit. They have to be hurting. The skin jutting out slightly more than it should be. Pretty strings of silk hanging in a messy manner. Clogged glands always hurt. Always make for issues.
You frown at the sight, delicately taking his wrist into your hand, looking at it closer. No, not too bad you have to take him to the doctor… you can handle it fine. But it won’t feel good, it never does. Dummy must’ve gotten too excited while webbing up the basement again, got his poor spinnerets working too hard. Overproducing silk to the point it has nowhere to go.
“Min!” You whine, already grabbing a pair of tweezers from the side-table– you’ve learned it’s always good to have a pair on-hand. “I told you that you gotta be more careful!”
“I know!” He hisses almost pathetically, “Just got ahead of myself!”
His voice is no more than a grumble, turning his head away from you yet not pulling away in the slightest. Pretending he hates when you scold him, when you show just how much you care about him.
You pretend it isn’t cute in much the same way.
“Always end up getting ahead of yourself,” You sigh dramatically, acting as if having to take care of the arachnid bothers you more than it actually does. Truth be told, you don’t care in the slightest. Who knows, maybe it even makes you preen in delight.
Feeling wanted as your fingers try to be as gentle as possible while removing the silk. Pulling out the little pieces strand by strand, work out the knot it's made under the skin to try and bring him some relief.
Though, no matter how careful you may be, he still flinches in pain all the same. Trying to cover it up like it was nothing, like every poke and prod doesn’t hurt. Like he can be tough under your gentle hands and pained gaze. He knows it has to be done and no matter how much you hate to see him in pain, you do too.
The dull ache will grow worse and worse, could even turn into an infection if you don't handle it as fast as possible. Worst case? He may have to have his spinnerets removed completely. A fate that feels worse than death to a spider hybrid– or so you’ve read at least.
Soon after he came into your life you did everything in your power to learn as much about his species as possible. Scoured webpage upon webpage, blog post on blog post, youtube video after youtube video. Even went down the sticky threads of a reddit rabbithole to try and learn everything about him.
The only thing you found: how horrible arthropod hybrids are treated in your society. Either sold at auction for absurd prices or cast aside completely depending on how “inhuman” they look. How they are used as tools to show wealth or are discarded from the rest of the world completely. The notion alone had pissed you off to no end.
Jimin was a member of the latter group– or at least that’s what you assumed. From behind no one would be able to tell he was any less than human. His lack of multiple limbs or fluttering wings left him to the devices of the reserve. Probably cast aside, dropped off by the people that raised him for not providing anything that went along with their definition of ‘value’.
Your eyes pinch into a quiet glare. They’re just fucking stupid. Anyone could see that Jimin is perfect. Anyone could see that he did not deserve the treatment he's received, nor deserved to be in the state he was in when you first found him.
And while you’re glad he didn’t end up with anyone else, still didn’t end up in an auction house like many others had, you hate them for thinking they could define his value. That they could define him for more than what he lacked. He still has beautiful fangs. Still has beautiful eyes and his natural cobalt-blue hair. He is still perfect to you.
A sharp hiss leaves his lips, arm attempting to jerk back from your hold as your grip tightens just a hair too hard. As you accidentally tug on a far too sensitive part of the knot. Getting a little too lost in your head while your fingers pick away diligently. Trying to ease the pain as fast as you can.
“Human!” He whines, quickly shushed by a flurry of apologies leaving your mouth. Face flushed, panic in your eyes as he admonishes you.
Once again you’re reminded all too well of how far you’ve fallen for him. Heart racing, brain yelling at itself for hurting him.
It’s dumb, you know that. Everything about the schoolgirl crush you’ve formed on him is. But it doesn’t stop the frown on your lips, the gentle rub of your fingers into his skin as you try to make it up to him.
A quiet grumble leaves his lips, heart hurting at the little dejected expression you wear. He forgives better than he forgets, moving his arms back to the pillow propped on your lap, allowing you to continue your work.
A pout stays on his lips as he watches your hands move. Watches the way the tweezers move under the thin layer of skin. Watches the way you move softer now, taking your time with him. Trying your utmost to not hurt him again.
To you it feels far too intimate. To him, it leaves him almost feral.
“Been working really hard on them lately, haven’t you?” Your voice sounds, trying to distract him or yourself from wandering thoughts– you’re not sure. He’s almost clean– almost all better so you can stop playing nurse. Get a warm washcloth to soothe the skin, take away any ache that lasts from the overused glands.
He nods, “Autumn is coming up…” He mumbles, the words leaving his lips in almost a shy fashion. Like it’s a secret that isn’t a secret at all in the coy fashion he knows you adore.
He knows all too well all of the things that make your stomach flutter. Listens to your heart beat like it’s his favourite song, the flush of your cheeks his favourite painting. Every little twitch of your lip or tap of your feet he catches with ease. You are his favourite everything.
You’ve become far more interesting than any book, far more gorgeous than any actress. Learned to read you better than yourself.But he supposes that would happen to any hybrid who had to wait as long as him, endure as much as he has.
Humans are tricky things, you know? You have to wait and wait and wait just for them to finally give into what they really want. Play the long game to win a prize at the end like he wants, deserves.
He’ll win it soon. August.
“Mmm? Having a contest with the house spiders or something?” You giggle, an effort to try and keep the atmosphere as light as possible. Try to distract from any pain he may be feeling at the moment.
Jimin is convinced he can speak to them– the house spiders that you allow to stay in the corners of your house. Another one of Jimin’s pitfalls that you couldn’t help but wonder into. He claims that they’re his friends, that he talks to them all the time. You, on the other hand, are unconvinced. They probably just use him for food!
“How did you know?! Who told you!” He gasps in mock surprise, head dipping low to rest on your shoulder before he continues, “No, not this time…they all know I would win anyway.”
“I know you would,” He doesn’t allow you in the basement to look at them, at least he hasn’t in the last month, but you’ve seen plenty strung around the house. Dotted in the corners of each room, his way of claiming territory. “You’ve always got such pretty silk.”
His face flushes– he knows you can’t see it. It’s good if you don’t, better if you have no clue how much your words affect him. Exactly how much those words mean to him.
Hopefully you will soon enough. Hopefully, if things go according to plan, you’ll know a lot of things. But right now you just need to stay a little clueless. Just for a little longer.
That’s what he promises to himself.
“What’s happening in autumn then?” You ask, finally pulling the last bit of silk from his left wrist. Both finally clean, finally working like they should be.
Taking each wrist into one of your hands, your thumbs find the openings to the spinnerets. Fingers rubbing gentle, soothing circles into the flesh. Your version of a little makeshift massage. One that always causes him to fall apart under. Spine slumping, mouth parting slightly as he watches your fingers work. His brain going a little empty along with the soothing motion of your fingertips.
Another thing that you don’t understand the intimacy of. The extent of what your touch means to him. How terribly it makes him want to bite you.
His voice is a pitch lower than before. You can’t help but notice the way his breath stutters in his throat at the gentle movement of your thumbs. The way his pupils expand ever so slightly. The way he leans into your touch, avoids eye contact at all costs.
You can’t help the blush that dusts your cheeks, the flutter of your ribcage. The way you keep going just because you know it’s making him feel good.
Stop it! You’re thinking in a bad way again! It isn't right! It’s just from the massage, the relief after his spinnerets are cleared! God, you can’t think about him like this. Can’t do this to yourself! Calm down, seriously. None of this is a big deal.
You know he can hear fast your heart is beating regardless of the argument going on inside of your brain.
“Autumn is mating season.” Your thumbs stutter.
Oh. That is something all of the articles definitely neglected to tell you. They didn’t tell you anything about… that aspect of spiders. Not that they explained much to begin with but certainly nothing about breeding.
You can’t help the way your grip tightens, trying to find purchase– stability at the revelation. Heart thrumming in your chest faster, more aggravated than before. The chill that travels down your spine with the hum of his voice so close to your ear.
Can’t help the sinch of jealousy that finds you either.
Fuck, you hate that he’s smirking– without even looking at his face you can tell! You know he can hear the exact pitter-patter of your heart, any little sound or smell you let out he can easily pick up. Knows your exact emotions before you know them yourself.
“Ah… I see.” This topic really shouldn’t make you so embarrassed! Pull yourself together!
You know that all hybrids have a cycle they go through. Heats, ruts, anything in between. You knew that when Jimin came into your life he would be the same! Knew there would be a time when he’d have to lock himself in the basement, body flooded with hormones. The pretty sounds you’d have to block out filling the house.
But still, because it’s him, you can’t help the nerves that arise from your core. The realisation that it would be coming sometime soon.
If you’re going to make it through you’d have to invest in some soundproof headphones. For your own sanity.
“Mmm?” He smiles, voice sweet and saccharine. Away with the pain of existing also left cute Jimin, leaving a deadly predator in its wake. One that likes to taunt and tease you while acting as innocent as an angel.
Leaves your brain confused, floundering trying to keep up with his deceptively sweet tongue. Doing it all just to get a cute little reaction out of you.
Guess he picked up on the exact little whirlwind of your mind, “You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed…”
“Shut up!” You whine, trying to stand from the couch so you can retrieve a washcloth. Try to avoid the way your heart is going to pound out of your chest, the way you know you’ll fall farther into his clutches.
His arms lock on firm, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck to rub his cheeks against your skin. Scent you just like he does a million times a day claiming that it's necessary. Spiders smell so much less than other hybrids– he has to do it or else.
Or at least that’s what he says– you think that it’s another lie.
“What!” He laughs, “Not like I’m saying anything dirty, it’s only natural.” He chides, sliding back against the couch, pulling you into his side with ease. Slotting you in like you’re meant to fit there, not whatever mate he meets in the future.
Your brain yells at itself. You know how dangerous that line of thinking is.
“Unless you want me to be dirty? I could if I wanted, you know.” He smiles as innocently as a wolf, fangs oozing with confidence behind them.
“Oh my god!” You sigh dramatically, putting on the front you always do when your heart feels like it may just explode. When you feel like digging an early grave because Jimin knows exactly what he’s doing.
You simply roll your eyes, “And I could punch you in the dick if I wanted to, you know?”
His laugh is always so pretty, boisterous yet still as light as air. Head tilting back, his neck on display as he chastises you for the empty threat. One you both know won’t come true, at least not right now.
He smiles, a gentle kiss being placed on your forehead as he urges you to stay. Promising he’ll be a ‘good little spider’ so you don’t have to worry about him. The implication of snacks and movies making you stay. The way he pouts when you tell him you’re not buying anymore BugBitez™ until the end of the week confirming that this is where you need to be right now. That it’s right.
It’s almost too easy for him too. Everything is too easy for you when it comes to Jimin. He claims the exact same.
Or at least, that’s what he mumbles in your ear now. Arms wrapped around you as tight as he can manage. Movie nearing its end with Jimin on the cusp of consciousness, you having lost the plot of it a long time ago.
Something about Aliens? Cowboys? Mothman? You couldn’t even hope to guess. Not when his breath is in your ear.
It’s hard to focus when he’s so close like this. When he’s saying pretty words that could get you lost in your fantasy over and over again. Making him harder and harder to give him up every moment that passes you by.
“Got lucky with my human.” He mumbles, half asleep, face buried in your hair, “Really good human.”
His lips move so lazily when they speak. Fangs running across the surface your skin like they have a mind of their own. Never daring to pierce the surface. Never daring to bite you for real. No matter how bad he really, really wants to.
How bad he wants to mate you. Make you his pliant little prey– see if the rumours about what his venom does to humans is real.
Your breath stutters but you pay it no mind. Trying, begging your eyes to remain focused on the movie. To ignore how deceptive sleepy Jimin is. Tomorrow, he will act as normal. His words will carry no weight.
He isn’t your boyfriend. You aren’t his mate. You two are just friends sharing a house.
Feelings you have no right to have are forced down over and over again. It seems like it's become a daily occurrence– a pattern of habit you have no hope in breaking. The love piling behind your eyelids means nothing when the person he is meant to be with could be around any corner.
But it’s getting harder. Too hard to hold them back and restrain yourself. Especially on nights like this when it feels like fate that the two of you met.
Thinking back on that fateful day now, all of those months ago, you’re sure it had to have been. Maybe the winter gods (if such a thing existed) decided to shine their light on you; to make the blizzard a little less lonely. Make your life filled with long days and even longer nights just a little bit brighter.
Or maybe they hated you and wanted you to suffer.
Wanted you to live a life knowing your affections will never be reciprocated, knowing that Jimin has a fated one out there somewhere just waiting for him. Knowing that it isn’t you. Cursing you to a life of watching Jimin fall for another.
Thinking becomes so hard when it’s about Jimin. When it’s about the man who made you so far into the pits of hell that you don’t think you’ll ever crawl out.
So instead your fingers simply squeeze his hand. Rub gentle, soothing circles into the skin. Care for him like you’re meant to instead of thinking about what the future may hold. What will happen when he does find his mate. What they might be like, what they might dress like, if they’ll have to move in here, if you’ll have to watch him fall in love over and over again every single day.
You think you might hate them.
You sigh.
No, that wouldn’t be fair. Could never be fair to Min. He deserves happiness. He deserves the world whether or not you’re a part of it.
You hope he isn’t able to pick up on the changes in your scent.
“Mmm mm, got lucky with you Min.”
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August 11th.
A beautiful dream shattered by the incoherent nightmare that is your spider pacing around your room. A pillow pulled to either side of your head, doing everything in their power to drown out the noise as an audible groan leaves your lips. His nervous prattling too early in the morning for your liking.
Any other day it would be fine, you would think that it’s cute. The way he worries his lip between his teeth. The way he gently bites down on the pad of his thumb, one arm crossed while the other soothes the skin of his chin.
Any other day you’d sit in bed, listen to him. Mock him slightly with how much worry runs through his body.
But he isn’t talking about his mate any other day, is he? No, it seems that the occasion has been saved for this morning. His head running a mile a minute, losing all composure he once had before. Losing his very sense of self as anxiety courses through his veins.
“What if it isn’t good enough? I need to present it to her soon. Need to make sure everything is perfect for her.” Apparently he had met her. When? You have not a single clue. Jimin hasn’t left the house in weeks other than to go hunt bugs and to go to the grocery store with you.
“What if the web isn’t big enough? She might not like the style either…” He grumbles, eyes locked on the carpet as he moves back and forth across your room, “God and what if she hates the food… No, no you know what she likes.”
“Jimin, she’ll like everything. It will be fine.” You groan, sitting up in bed to face him, voice gruff with morning air.. You don’t want him to be in here, talking about this. Talking to you about this. Shattering your heart every second that passes by.
You knew it would happen someday, you really did. You tried to do everything right. Tried to pretend reality wasn’t creeping through your windows with every second that passes by. Try to ignore the impending sense of doom that covered your skin.
Did everything right only to end up failing once again due to the rations of Park Jimin.
You try to look at him through the fuzz in your eyes, sleep still trying to force you back into its clutches with everything that it has. Try to see what he is doing– understand what he is saying. His voice continuing to speak yet not fluent enough for you to actually understand. His body twitches ever so slightly, head jerking as his teeth dig deeper and deeper into his thumb. It was almost like you weren’t even in the room– not to him at least. Lost within the tangles of his brain.
Pulling himself deeper and deeper into the recesses of his mind, spiralling out of control of everything that seems rational, everything that he is meant to do or meant to say. It’s almost like he isn’t in the room at all. Isn’t pacing along your floor, surrounded by your scent. Comforting his inner spider before it loses control entirely with the hormones that rush through his veins.
August 11th. The date was circled 5 times on his calendar– red exclamation points, doodles scattered across the stupid day. Yet now, for the life of him he can’t seem to remember why. He can’t seem to remember much of anything though, so that isn’t a surprise. Only his web. The gifts he’s prepared for this day. Yeah. Those are the only things he can seem to think about.
A hand lands on his shoulder– one that isn’t his own. Who’s touching him? He isn’t sure. Isn’t sure of much other than the smell combing through the room that becomes sweeter and sweeter by the second. Honey he is unable to resist.
Especially with how soft the hand is that touches him. How gentle it is on his shoulder, his pace back and forth falling just so he can revel in it. Understand it.
“Hey Min.” Oh. It’s you. Your voice coming through the fog. Your voice startling him from the dream.
Gorgeous, gorgeous you.
Mate.
“It’s gonna be okay, yeah?” Why do you sound sad? No, maybe it’s distressed. His face falls.
No, no, no. You shouldn’t be sad. You should never be sad. You should always be happy with him. You should love him. His love should make you whole. Your love makes him whole.
Wait, does he have your love yet?
Now he isn’t sure.
All he knows is that he should. You should. He should wrap you up in his nest, hold you close until you feel nothing but him. Don’t think about anybody else. Look at anybody else. You should always be happy and safe. Happy and safe with him just like he feels with you. Has always felt with you.
More than that stupid reserve. More than his webs back there. It was fate that brought the two of you together, right? Right? So he should be allowed to indulge just a little. He should be allowed to let go of this stupid, fucked up play he’s been putting on for so long. He should be allowed to do whatever he wants.
The reserve always taught him he was a wild spider, you know?
Wait, spider.
Spider.
His rut. That’s what’s coming today. That’s why the day was circled. That’s why Jimin isn’t acting like himself. That’s why his spider is itching, clawing to come out to play. Why he so desperately wants all of you to himself.
He hasn’t even presented his web yet.
He tilts his head at you, blank eyes staring down into bright ones. Ones that hold his entire world at your fingertips.
“There he is.” Your smile is almost blinding. Makes his head pound just like the sun's rays.
That’s right. That’s why he needs to keep his composure. To keep that smile on your lips. To keep you happy. To keep you falling in love with him slowly the human way. The way he knows you’d prefer. Knows you adore every second of.
He isn’t Taehyung. He isn’t Taehyung.
The human way is better. Better at keeping you pliant. Better at keeping you happy. Better at keeping you unafraid.
He hates when people are scared of him. Hates when people flinch with every movement he makes. Hates when people can’t just love him like he so craves. He’s still a hybrid. He still wants love. He was bred for it just like the rest of them.
So when you came into his life, so gentle and caring despite the palpable fear that scented the air– weighed it heavily, it sparked light behind his eyes. When he felt you touch him, felt the sparks dance across his flesh and allowed himself to inhale once more. When there were no traces of fear within you, only the scent of his mate. His eternity.
He knew he had to do the right thing. Had to make you love him the human way. Had to make you fall for him, endure the wait. Endure the daily struggles of his instincts just so you would never be afraid of him. The end would be worth it.
He would never let you fear him even at the cost of his own sanity.
Because he isn’t Taehyung. He’s Jimin. He’s a good spider.
“You need to be careful Min…” You tell him quietly. Your voice is the only anchor to his shaky world. The light brought him back from the edge over and over again today.
He needs to leave your room before all of his planning goes to waste. Calm himself down. Present to you his web and all of his gifts so you can accept him properly.
“Your thumb… it’s bleeding honey…” He tilts his head again, inspects your hands as they move closer. Tries to force lucid thought from behind his heavy eyelids as you touch his skin directly.
Tries to ignore the throb deep inside as you gently remove the finger from his lips. Pull it away from the fang that was piercing him. The sting of the bite.
He hadn’t even noticed it.
He watches as a single drop spills from the abrasion. Slipping down his finger. Feels the way your hands come up to cup his cheeks.
Leave. Leave. Leave.
The way your thumb comes to his lips, worry etched across your features as you swipe away any remaining blood from his lower lip.
Leave. He needs to leave.
He isn’t sure how your finger ends up in his mouth. His plush lips wrapping around the digit, tongue curling around your flesh as he licks away the red spilled. Sucking on it gently as heat curls in his stomach. His eyes half-lidded, staring into the recesses of your very soul.
A groan passes through him at the taste of your skin. How sweet you are against his tongue. Do you even know what a vixen you are? What a tease you’ve come to be over the past 9 months?
No. Of course you don’t. Not with the blush that rushes to your cheeks. The stutter of his name that passes through his lips. The questions that you ask– what are you doing? Wh-why?
He wants you to be quiet. To enjoy you for all it’s worth. Enjoy everything you have to offer.
The command is silent– no more than the press of his bleeding thumb to your lips. The demand that you part them for him. To clean that wound that you unknowingly caused.
A hand on your cheek directing your head back. He’s been a good little spider, you can be a good little girl too, can’t you?
You are.
“J-Jimi–” He slips it inside, resting the pad against your tongue. Holding it in place. Asking, begging for this one little thing from you. You don’t mind, do you? You’ve always made him feel better before. This is no different, is it?
And so you do.
He watches the way your eyelids fall, your lips close as you begin to gently suck against it like he so craves. Like he desires down to the very cells that make up his body.
To imagine it’s his cock instead. Gently fucking into you over and over again, teaching you how to take his it how he likes. How he knows you’ll like. You’ll love everything about him. You’re meant to. It’s in the fabric of your DNA and soon it will all be his. Right after he shows you his–
Shit.
He needs to leave.
Got carried away in his fantasy. In pretending again.
His rut is coming too fast, too strong now that he finally has his mate in his grasp. He needs to leave. He needs to calm down so he can go this properly.
He leaves you on the bed, more confused and distressed than when he first entered. Annoyance hovering over your entire wake in a blanket of unrest. One that you know will not ease your soul for the rest of the day.
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The spider has locked himself away. Hiding from you. Keeping himself in the basement, door locked, shutters drawn to drown out any sense of you that may be persisting.
You, on the other hand, have had nothing to do but stew in your own emotions. Think about every little decrepit detail that occurred hours prior. Edicting yourself to only address him by spider even in your thoughts.
It’s spiteful, sure. But it’s the least he deserves, you know? After everything he’s put you though– pulling you along like a little puppet on a string. Making you sit idly by for him to give you any lick of affection he’s willing to part with. Making you feel special, like you're worth something every second that he gets only for him to remind you with too much familiarity that he isn’t yours to have.
He woke you up, told you about his mate, looked at you like he was going to fuck you, and made you suck on his finger only for him to leave? The sheer fucking audacity of this man.
You’re sick of it.
Sick of having to force everything down because you know it isn’t what he wants. Sick of falling in love with him every day. Sick of having to play house. Sick of not having him. Sick of being playing the lovesick fool.
So, into the novels you fall. Into alternate worlds that are far better than your own. Displacing yourself into new habitats, new environments to escape the confines of the four stuffy walls that surround your body, head, and heart.
Into a world where it’s okay to fall in love with whoever you want. Where it’s okay to feel wanted. Where reality can be shut away by your headphones and a good snack. Where you can ignore the body approaching behind you. The tap on your shoulder.
You try to, honestly. And a good attempt it was.
Keeping your grip firm on the pages, nails digging into the paper below. Breath in your lungs held as if doing so would keep him away. Eyes tracing the pages over and over again though reading nothing. Attempting to appear as if you didn’t notice him at all.
Maybe he would leave, that was your biggest hope. Take the headphones placed firmly over your ears as a loud, obnoxious hint. That he would see you’re not interested and retreat to his basement layer to plot on the next way to torture your heart.
He doesn’t. He never would.
His frame comes to kneel in front of you. To stare up at you with those big brown doe eyes that you know you could never escape. Placing a gentle hand on your knee, trying to get you to see that he is there. That he wants to see you.
You see his lips move, though ignore entirely what they say. Letting out a huff, turning your body away from his own. Continuing to mindlessly stare at the pages even though their contents holds no meaning in this moment. No real value.
His forehead drops to your leg, a sigh leaving his throat. Words mumbled from his lips you’re unable to make out– not that you would want to hear them anyway.
Maybe it’s a temper tantrum of sorts. Giving him a taste of his own medicine. To feel even a pinch of what you do. He probably never does.
Your fight is a good one. It truly is– at least you think so. But it all comes tumbling down the second his lips press against your knee. His hands reaching past your iron grip on the book to hold your own.
You will always fall to the likes of Jimin.
Especially when you see his lips mouth the word please. His brows crested with worry, his lower lip quivering in worry. Fangs biting the surface to try and soothe the nerves he feels.
Any sense of foreboding he held earlier, gone. The tick of his shoulders, the cold, blank stare of his eyes vanished. Your Jimin, the one you’re used to, in love with, rising to the surface again.
You’re unable to fight against the plea, no matter how much you want to. Unable to fight against him.
“What is it.” Your voice is harsh as you remove your headphones, setting the book to the side. Much more than it appears he’d like it to be if the flinch of his neck is anything to go by.
“I…” Words feel lost in his throat, but he forces himself to continue forward, “I have something I need to show you, human…”
Why is he acting so weird? Acting like earlier never happened? He seems nervous, almost petrified at your reaction. As if anything you say could break him entirely.
You don’t understand it at all. Anything about this situation, really.
“Okay…?” You watch his face carefully, trying to reason. To figure out why exactly the air seems so heavy. Why this situation feels so tense. “Show me then?”
“I…You have to come with me?” It sounds like a question, his face flinching at his own words. He’s meant to do this perfectly. Why can’t he seem to get it right? Why can’t his instincts help him with this? “Like, I can’t bring it up here… I need you to follow me?”
“Huh?” The quiet breath leaves your throat as your features pinch.
He quickly tries to explain further, trying to help you see through the worry on your face, “Not far I promise. Just to the basement, yeah?”
Your head jerks back in surprise, “You never let me go down there.”
“Yeah but…it’s special this time.” Oh.
It’s almost as if the pieces click together on their own. Your brain drawing conclusions, making decisions for you despite the obvious staring right in your face. His mate is probably down there. Wants you to meet her.
You can only sigh, accept your fate for what it is. Follow the boy with the string to the basement once again, just like the first night he came tumbling into your life.
“Okay.”
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He holds your hand as you walk.
Holds it as if his life depends on it. As if it’s the red string of fate that has tied your two bodies together for the rest of eternity. As if he might die the second you two part. As if you might run away the second he lets go.
You never do, never try to run away from him. You’ve tried to run away from your feelings for so long. The least you can do is see through to the end of them, right? That would be the right thing to do. The dignified thing instead of trying to throw a tantrum on the floor.
The walk to the basement feels like the longest in your life. A marathon you have no training for, no experience with tugging you along. Silence extended for miles along each creak of the floorboards, each set of the dim stairs.
Jimin left the lights off, dusk settling along the horizon not long ago. Only distant flickers from the basement coming through as you make your way down. Candle light in the distance lighting the way.
He doesn’t say a thing as your feet reach the bottom of the stairs, toes cushioned by soft silk lining the floors. He doesn’t have to.
It’s beautiful. That’s the only way you can describe what he’s turned the basement into.
Beautiful silks cover every waking surface– the floors, the walls, the ceiling all lined in brilliant patterns of white dancing across the surface. Creating stories as if they were living themselves.
You wish you could stare at them. Admire them for the rest of your life. Decipher each piece laying, coating the surface. Envisioning the world through the eyes of Jimin. Through the world around him.
Webs cross from floor to ceiling, taking space over the room. Intricately laid in patterns you are more accustomed to with spiders. Webbed hatching sectioning off parts of the space, acting as furniture for the bug to rest on.
As your eyes scan the room, you finally find what you think has to be the most gorgeous web in the world. Sitting in the far right corner of the room stands a nest that takes up the entire corner. The effort it took to make it clear in its craft. So soft, so comfortable.
You almost want to curl up in it yourself.
Illuminated by only the glow of candle light, Jimin does nothing but watch as you take everything in. Watch as your face changes into that of euphoria. Mesmerised by everything he has worked so hard on, everything he’s done just to impress you.
You turn to face him, staring at him with nothing but wonder in your eyes.
“Jimin, this is– fuck this is incredible,” Your voice is breathless, cut off by how overwhelmed you are with everything. With him. “This must’ve taken you so long, it’s so beautiful. Oh my god, how did you–”
He can’t take it anymore. Can’t take it now that he has you here, has you in his web. Now that he can keep you in it forever. Complimenting him. Completing him. He needs to finish with the rest of this fast. Before he does something he’ll regret. Before he finishes showing you how good a mate he will be to you properly.
He tugs you forward, practically puzzling as he tugs you deeper into his room of webs. Expertly guiding you through each one without a second to spare.
Jittery, excited. Feeting rocking themselves back and forth as he sits you on a blanket placed on the ground.
He isn't going to last much longer. Not before his heat takes over. Before he loses his mind at you in the sight of his nest. His mate in his nest. Waiting to be bred. Waiting for–
No, no Jimin. Stop it. Stop acting like a spiderling that doesn’t know what to do with himself now that he has his mate in his nest.
“I…” He takes a deep breath, voice shaky as he tries to calm himself down, “I made us a picnic… I hope you like it.”
His spider hisses at the words, hating having to describe it as something stupid like a picnic. No, it's a nuptial gift. Evidence that he’s a good enough mate. That he’s good enough for you. That he deserves you.
You watch him, watch as he pushes the basket filled to the brim with food over to you. Watch as his frame shakes slightly as he stares at you, fingers tapping against strings of webs closest to your leg.
You can’t help but feel lost. Overwhelmed with affection, but utterly, entirely, hopelessly lost all the same. What is he doing? Why is he presenting all of this for you? Shouldn’t he be doing this for his mate? Isn’t all of this some type of courting ritual?
Oh.
It appears the puzzle you constructed– pieces matched together haphazardly stuck together with glue isn’t the solution after all. Isn’t the reality presented before you know.
You’re… you’re Jimin’s mate?
Your eyes widen, head jerking to meet Jimin’s gaze. His pupils shaky, not daring to leave the surface of the basket. Not daring to move an inch until you accept him.
You’re an idiot.
“J-Jimin a-are we…?” You hesitate to ask, hesitate to break the gentle balance residing over the entire basement.
His head snaps to face your own, eyes plagued with the same blank, predatory look as before.
“Mate.” Deep, harsh, scratchy. His voice makes you feel like he’s going to devour you whole. Like he is the monster waiting in the deepest recesses of your nightmares when that couldn’t be farther from the truth. When in reality he is the very being your soul yearns for stronger than any other.
The revelation, the– everything leaves you overwhelmed. Emotions strung up for the stars, casting aside any comets that tried to hurdle towards the perfect glass encasing this moment. This eternity you wish to live in forever as you finally understand that he wants you just as much as you want him.
You can’t help but grab his cheeks– ignore how venomous he looks, and press your lips against his own. Can’t help the explosion behind your eyelids, the sparks that travel across your skins in euphoric waves. The way your heart swells like a balloon, racing in your chest so fast you fear you may die.
Every emotion you’ve felt that day, every nagging, creeping sensation finding its way into the back of your skull vanishes in an instant. No going back. No orchestra or chorus reprise. No thoughts of not being his mate. You are his mate.
Only him.
Only Jimin.
He doesn’t part with you, not for a second. Not when he finally has you against him. When you so easily rise into his lap. When his natural instincts finally stop screaming at him and take over completely. Kiss you with everything he’s worth. Devour you whole.
His hands find purchase on your hips, blunt nails digging into the skin. Mocking him for not doing this in the closet with you all those months ago. Allowing him to truly understand how good it would’ve felt then. How good it will feel every second that follows.
He thinks you have to be the prettiest thing in the world.
His spider thinks that you need to be bred full of his spiderlings. Fucked so hard that you wont be able to walk– wont be able to leave his nest. That he’ll be able to tie you up nice and pretty, stuff you with his cum over and over again until you’d never even think about leaving.
His spider is winning.
“Min…” Your voice is breathless, trying to keep up with the flurry of kisses he presses against your lips, your face– anywhere he can reach. It’s like he’s addicted to the feeling, like he’s making up for lost time.
“Min, I love you.” And just like that, any sanity he has left vanishes.
His spider has won.
Without a second thought you’re lifted from your place on his lap, thrown carelessly into his nest. His nest where you will stay. His nest where he’ll keep you. All thoughts vanished from that pretty little head of yours. Just like it should be.
His hands find the back of his collar, shirt discarded without a second thought on the floor. He doesn’t need it anymore. Not when he has you. When he wants to feel you fully.
You can only stare– fawn at his tan skin. The gentle muscles on display for you. For your eyes only while he crawls towards you. Stalks you just like they might a pretty little butterfly caught in their web. Wrapped in webs and killed without a second thought.
His lips find yours once again. Slotting together, filling the other to make them whole. Dazed in lust and passion, neither soul hoping there would ever be a way out for the other.
Well, there won’t be for you. But that’s okay. You’ll love it. Love every second of it.
He knows it as his fingers dance against your skin. Sliding beneath the hem of your shirt, running with skilled ease up your sides. The chill that racks through your body is evidence enough. The way you so easily allow him to draw your shirt over your head solidifies it. Your shorts follow, making it set in stone.
Your breath comes out in short pants, every slight touch, every little movement sends fire burning through your skin. Igniting you, setting your core ablaze with heat that only he can extinguish.
Fingers gently sliding over your ribs, thumbs coming just blow your breasts to rub circles into the skin while his fangs nip gently into your lower lip. He can’t bite you now. No, after he mates you he can bite you all he wants.
He groans at the thought, hips rocking themselves against your clothed cunt. Allowing you to feel all of him– the press of his cock, the motion of his need allowing you to fall higher and higher into a heaven you did not think possible.
You whine at him to do something, anything. Too impatient to wait any longer. Too impatient to live a second more without something, anything buried inside of you.
His smile is sick, twisted as he reclines back on his heels. Allows himself to get a good look at you.
“Shh, Shh…” His hand cups your cheek, smoothing his thumb against your lips. Pressing it inside with more ease than before. More compliance than before. There’s a good little girl.
“Poor thing is having a hard time, huh?” He mocks gently, hips pressed firm against your own allowing you to feel every inch of him, “Pretty lips all swollen, pussy a little mess from just kissing… mm mm…”
He groans, hand slipping between your legs. What he finds is no more than a mess of a girl. Hips bucking upwards. Slick dripping from your center, panties coated in arousal. Puffy little clit begging for any attention he’s willing to give it.
Without any hesitation his thumb finds your clit, pressing against it without any thought of reprieve. Without any thought to give you any of the relief you crave. You’ve made him wait this long, you can wait a second, no?
He groans high as you buck against his hand, mewl leaving your lips as some sort of plea. Ah~ how cute. Such a little thing so desperate for something, anything that you’re willing to give up your very head in return? How cute! How adorable!
His spider preens. Is almost so belated he doesn’t notice the hands that come down to grip his wrist. Hold him in place all so you can circle your hips against his thumb. Rub adorable little rings into your clit without any help from him. Use him to make yourself feel good.
A coo leaves his lips. Who is he to deny such a pretty little human?
“Ah pretty baby wants to feel good, does she?” He almost giggles at how pathetic you look. How adorably you cling to him. How hard you try.
His arm is ripped from your grasp, pulling back from the very place you desire him most. Where your arousal soaks the cotton of cotton, so palpable he can practically taste it in the air.
“It’s okay baby…” He sees the annoyance in your face, the battiness you hold in your heart coming to light. Excited to tame it. Excited to quell the pretty little devil in his web.
Tie you up. Breed full.
Breed you.
His fingers work fast. Arms are pulled over your head, silks quickly pinning them to the surface. Strings wrapping and wrapping until he’s sure you’re secure. Sure you can’t move.
His hips gently rock against your own, clothes cock pressing against your core. Watching as your hips buck, as you try to urge him closer with a pathetic whine.
See exactly how you struggle against the strings.
Perfect, perfect girl. How did he get so lucky, huh? Can never be sure.
You’re unable to stop the cry that leaves your throat as his hands pull your panties aside, finger thrusting into your wet heat. Filling you up, making you feel a little more whole.
“Min~” The moan of his name is shaky. Every sense you have in overdrive as he works his finger against your walls. Every push inside deeper, harder. Curling against your walls in the exact way you craved.
Pleasure coils in your stomach faster than you thought possible. A second finger joining the first, pumping in and out as he prepares you for his cock. Prepared you to take all of him and nothing less.
He knows you can do it. You can, can’t you?
“Mhmm baby, I know… head a little clearer now, huh?” He chuckles, chastising, “Can only think when you’re full. It’s so cute.”
You whimper at his words, head rolling back as the coil pulls tighter and tighter within your gut. Urging you to just let it snap, feel everything you’ve been waiting for.
“F-feels good…” You mutter quietly, unable to see the haze cloud his vision. The way his amused expression drops into that of a wild animal.
Without any warning his fingers pull out of your heat, body leaving your own entirely as he stands. Grabbing your hips, dragging them closer. Flipping your body over. Setting you pretty on your knees, arms uncomfortable crossed in front of you.
He quickly rids himself of his pants, allowing his cock to spring free from their confines. Head red and messy as it hits his stomach. Angry at how neglected you’ve left him. How desperately he wants this.
You have no way of preparing yourself for the drag of his cock through your lips. The gentle nudge against your clit. Thick head dragging through your folds, spreading your arousal. Mixing it with his pre-cum.
Making you messy. Making you dirty just for him. Making you belong to him.
“Gonna fill my mate.” All humour is gone from the man behind you, as if he is someone else entirely. It’s really too bad your head has a few too many screws loose to care. Care about anything other than the way his firm head presses against your hole. The way his blunt nails dig into your flesh.
“Gonna breed her. Mate her. Make her mine.” It’s almost as if his word is a command. The very sentences he utters become law.
You can only nod your head. Give yourself to the very man that fate led you to all those months ago. “Want~”
The thrust of his hips into your walls is almost too much to bear. A cry leaving your lips as he fucks himself inside in a single thrust. Forcing you to take him to the hilt, to feel all of him stretch your walls. No break. No waiting around.
You’ve both done enough waiting.
It hurts— the burn, as he stretches you full. Presses his cock against your walls making sure your cunt remembers no one but him.
The way he gives no reprieve, fucking into you like an animal starved. Pulling back until only the tip remains inside before fucking himself fully inside once more.
“Min!” You cry, waves of pain and pleasure boiling all the same within your bones. All the same inside of your blurred head, nothing but static and thoughts of him behind the line of your eyes. Slipping off into space as you let cunt clenched pathetically around his cock.
“Good mate, taking me so well. Such a good human.” He groans, hips pulling back and thrusting into you over and over again. Making you fall apart with his pace. Pumping his cock into your pathetic little hole fast and hard. Ruining you for any other man.
Making sure he will be the only one you allow to enter heaven.
Your moans come out wanton, pleaing. Hips start to move back against him, trying to keep up with his pace despite the burn you begin to feel in your tied arms. Desperate to let him know just how good he’s filling you. Just how good he’s making you feel.
“My mate.” His pants come out harsh, breath on your neck as he hovers close. The sound of skin and against skin is the only thing you’re able to hear. The pressure of Jimin’s lips against your neck makes you feel like you’re about to go insane.
He’s desperate to make you fall apart on his cock alone. Pleasure building and building, the coil tight. Ready to snap at any moment. Ready to fall apart at his command.
“Gonna make you mine forever pretty.” His voice is featherlight once more. The switches have you reeling, your brain spinning. “Want that, don’t you? For me to bite you? Mark you up? Breed you full of my spiderlings? Ruin that pretty little head for anything else.”
He sighs, nails digging into your hips where they’re sure to leave bruises. You nod your head in agreement, moans spilling past your lips as his hips change their angle. His cock hitting the spot that leaves you seeing stars on every thrust.
“Say the word and you’re mine.” You feel his fangs against your skin. The harsh drag across your delicate skin. “Forever.”
You can’t take it anymore, pleasure burning through you. Blinding you. Unable to think about anything else other than the rough thrusts of his cock against your walls.
“Please.” It’s no more than a whimper, but he swears it’s the loudest thing he’s ever heard.
His teeth clamp into your flesh— the final thing needed to push you over the edge into bliss. Your body stutters, walls a vice around his cock as the coil finally snaps. Heat flowing through every cell you possess. The only thing in your soul is Jimin.
Your back arches, eyes dotting with black as you allow it to overtake you. Jimin rocking you against him, groaning as he fills you with his cum, painting your walls white. Allowing you to ride out your high with him. Finally allowing the rut to rid his brain for only a moment.
He slowly pulls out of you, panting. Quickly moving to cover your center back up with your underwear. Make sure all of his cum stays tucked away in your pretty little pussy to get you nice and pregnant.
You can only whimper, body twitching at every movement he makes. Worn down your bones— energy sucked so dry you can’t even feel the throb of your neck. Don’t even notice the blood that drips from where he marked you— claimed you in the way only a hybrid can.
All you're sure of is the need to be close to him. Need to feel him.
Is this what he had been feeling all along? Marks were known to do that, to allow you to feel what your mate does. If he had to endure what you’re feeling right now, it had to have been hell for him.
“Min…” you calm his name. Pull him from where he stares between your legs. Where his fingers rub circles into the surface of your underwear, spreading any cum that leaks from your twitching hole.
Within a second he’s at attention, staring at you with all of the love in the world. You’re not sure how you missed it before. How you could have deluded yourself into believing any less.
He pouts as you wiggle at your restraints, silk holding your arms in place all this time. He gently shakes his head, slowly flipping your body back over onto its back. Crawling over you to look at your face properly. Take in your fucked out expression. Ruined his pretty little human. Made her perfect.
“Don’t want to.” His lower lip juts out at you, eyes wide just like a begging dog. “Look pretty tied up in my web. Should stay like this. Forever.”
“I don’t think my job would like that very much.” You giggle, lip pouting out to match his own. He leans down, quickly capturing your mouth in a quick kiss.
Something hard pressed against your leg once more. His hand comes down to guide it against your heat. Rub against you despite the oversensitivity and cum leaking from your hole.
“Then we move to the woods together… I’ll hunt for us…” He grumbles, pushing your underwear to the side once more. Collecting any cum that has spilled out with his cock, gently fucking it back into your cunt with the head.
A whine rips from your lips due to oversensitivity. Pussy sore, aching from what he just put you though. What you aptly begged for. Yet you can’t deny him. Don’t want to deny him with how good it feels to be filled. How addicted you’ve become. Cock drunk.
“Wh-what?” You try to breathe, walls fluttering around his length as he slowly thrusts back inside. Filling you to the brim once again. “W-we can’t do that, Minnie…”
His thrusts are slow, languid. Almost like he’s making love. Treating you with utmost care despite how wrecked your entire frame is.
He is entirely unaffected. His rut leaves him wanting for more and more until you have nothing left to give. Face twisting into confusion at your words.
“Why can’t we? Make you up a nice pretty web… keep you full all the time” He hums against your neck, gently licking at his mark, “treat you like a real good mate, yeah? Fill you up over and over. Will look so pretty with my spiderlings.”
He moans the words, hips speeding up ever so slightly at the thought. It dawns on you that this must be his rut talking. Filling his head with nonsense he knows can’t come true. In a few days when he wakes up from it, he’ll probably pretend he never said anything about taking you to the woods. Keeping you there.
No harm in agreeing, is there? Especially when he makes you feel so good. So happy and full. When it makes him feel just as good. When your head starts to feel fuzzy, the exhaustion weighs heavily on your consciousness. You’re on birth control anyway, it's fine.
“Mmhmm… sounds nice..” You moan quietly, already feeling your second orgasm approaching. Allowing yourself to become lost in the same dream as him. Allowing yourself to fall victim to pretty words and false promises. Ones that he intends to make true.
“Gonna take such good care of my mate.” He groans, face buried in your neck. He feels your walls clamp around him, pulling him in over and over again. Cunt never wanting him to leave.
His hand draws between your thighs, fingers rubbing quick circles into your clit. Neither of you are going to last long. Both too sensitive to do anything but fall into the pleasure of each other.
Pussy fluttering against his cock, head rolling back as your high runs through you once more. White clouding your vision, ears ringing as you are overcome with fire. Drowning in the feeling of his cock fucking you full of his cum once again.
He lets out a harsh groan as he fills you. Breeds you just like a good spider would. Makes you feel complete as he helps you through both of your highs.
Your eyes feel heavy— too heavy to stay open even a second longer. Too tired to stay awake as he pulls your underwear back over your center. As he pulls your body close to his own.
He doesn’t blame you, never could. It must be hard having to keep up with a hybrid during their rut. But he knows you can do it. Knows you’ll do it for him. Especially with the promises you made. The ones you made only to him.
The last words you hear before falling under the veil of consciousness is a simple declaration. One you’ve waited months to hear.
“I love you.”
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“Y/n! Hurry up!”
The whine of Jimin’s voice is louder than any car, highway, hell— aeroplane you’ve ever heard, you’re sure of it. The grip of his hand around your own is like iron, tugging you along the worn trail path, trying to urge you faster than your feet will allow.
“I’m going! I’m goin!” You chide with him, giggle leaving your lips at his hurried nature. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the spider more excited. Maybe even more so than when he strokes the bite mark scarred into your shoulder– your permanent reminder that you are his and he is yours.
“Not fast enough!” He groans, head rolling back in annoyance, “The best spot is going to get taken!”
He’s told you about this spot time and time again– excitement palpable with every mention. A beautiful clearing back at the reserve, one that the trees shine perfectly through. The best spot for basking in the whole park, as well as for begging humans for snacks.
You smile at the thought. Following as close behind him as your feet will manage. Blanket and bags of food tight in your grip. After months of paperwork, he can finally return to this place without fear they’ll take you away from him. The mate licence in your wallet proof enough of it.
He finally gets to take you to the reserve– the place he called home for so long before he met you. The place where he first learned how to be a proper spider. The first place he learned to make friends. He’s most excited about the latter part, getting to show off his shiny new mate to all of his friends. The one he caught the human way.
He’s been talking about it for days, since you first brought up the idea of visiting. Of wanting to see where he lived before he met you. Prattling on and on about everything he’s going to show you, how he’s going to introduce you to Jungkook if he can. About the waterfall over the cove that you two can swim in without anyone finding out.
All of it is a dream come true for your little spider. Your mate.
You smile at the thought– how excited he is as he helps you set up the blanket on the ground. As he helps spread food all around you. Body jittery, head twitching at every little sound.
It’s clear he’s going a little crazy with joy. Entirely ecstatic to have you here with him. Sitting across from him on the ground in a way that almost mocks the picnic you had in his basement that night months ago.
Ah, sorry. Nuptial gift ceremony. He liked it a lot better when you called it that.
“Oh! And then, after we eat, I can introduce you to the head of the park! She’s Namjoon’s mate, but she doesn’t know it yet.” He talks to himself, chatting idly about nothing as he presses another strawberry to your lips. You eagerly take it, biting down on the fruit without a second thought.
You cover your mouth with your hand as you speak, “Really? It must be difficult to confess to her, then.”
He nods his head, overexcited as he looks past you into the trees. Nose twitching as he tries to pick up a scent. Yellow tinted sunglasses high on his nose to block any light from hurting his delicate pupils.
You can’t help but think about how beautiful he is. How lucky you are to have him.
His hair has grown out since that fateful day months ago, blonde replaced by a deep blue that puts the night sky to shame. How his frame has bulked out ever so slightly. Pretty tan skin looking more healthy than ever. His head off in the clouds, trying to ground himself so he doesn’t pick you up and drag you off into the woods.
The human way is never easy for him.
“Mhmm… he’s trying but he isn’t very good at it. Doesn’t understand how humans like it to be done…” He mumbles.
“Hybrid’s do it different?”
“Yeah,” He seems a little lost in space, nose twitching harsher as he tries to recognise the exact scent he knows will be coming soon. Jungkook can never hold himself back from a picnic, no matter how far. He just wishes his nose was stronger.
“Hybrids just take their mate right away. Prove they’re a good mate and then it’s done. But human’s you have to teach.” Your shoulders drop slightly, and maybe if it wasn’t for the love you felt for him or the mate mark pressing against your neck, you would have understood the severity of his words. Of teaching a human, tricking them into making them fall.
“Oh…” You pout, head coming down to rest against his shoulder. None the wiser to the meaning behind his words, “I’m sorry… it must’ve been hard for you.”
He only shakes his head, “It’s okay. I just didn’t want you to ever be scared.”
Suddenly, Jimin is standing. Eyes darting across the underbrush that surrounds the treeline. You follow his vision, squinting slightly to try and make out exactly what he is looking at when two antennae pop over the other side of a bush. Twitching, pointing in your direction. Hunting down food as they move closer.
The insect moves close, tilting his head as he finally moves within your line of vision. Mop of brown floppy hair on his head, wide bunny eyes. Twitching nose all the same. If it wasn’t for the lack of ears and black antennae jolting from his head, you would’ve thought he was a rodent.
“Kook!” Jimin’s voice is loud as he quickly run’s to meet the boy. The other looks just as excited, eyes lighting up with stars as his legs take off in the same direction. The two fall into a puddle of laughter and play fighting as they fall to the ground in greeting.
The infamous Jungkook, an ant hybrid– the biggest ant hybrid you’ve seen, mind you. Jimin’s best friend is finally revealed. And you have to say, seeing them together. Watching as your mate attempts to playfully tie him up silks has to be the prettiest sight you’ve ever laid eyes on.
“Oh my god, Min!” You laugh as Jimin struggles, the giant ant hybrid easily breaking free from the others strings. Instantly the attention is on you. Jimin leaning back to his heels, head thrown back as he whines.
“Shut up! He’s gotten stronger! My webs hold you good enough!” You continue to laugh, unaware of the ant sneaking closer. His antenna tickling your shoulder as he stares at the food in front of you. Begging for just a little taste to bring home to his colony, a little bit to make the queen happy.
You happily oblige, making room for the two of them to join you once again after their little scuffle. A reunion too cute to not try and remember forever. And just like that, conversation begins to flow easily between the three of you. Almost as if Jimin never left in the first place.
The two of them spend all afternoon catching up– Jimin reciting the story of how you two met, Jungkook opening up about the cute human that’s started to come by the park every saturday. Pulling his antennae down as he speaks, clearly embarrassed. Telling you all about how they met, about the reserve.
“Ah~ don’t mind him. Kookie’s just embarrassed cause he doesn’t know how to talk to girls.” Jimin teases, leaning over to ruffle Jungkook’s hair. His arm tightly wrapped around your frame, holding you close. “Not every day that an ant hybrid has a mate outside of their colony, you know?”
“Hyung! Shut up!” He quickly whines, eyes shooting a subtle glare towards the other. Legs kicking slightly underneath his frame. “You… know what it means… especially cause she’s human…”
“I know.” His fangs shimmer as his hand reaches out to ruffle his hair, “Don’t worry. She’ll wanna be your queen in no time.”
You nod your head in agreement, picking up another piece of fruit and popping it into your mouth. Nothing much to add to the conversation– you’ll never really understand the intricacy of hybrids and how they work. Especially those like Jungkook and Jimin.
Yet, you can’t help but feel at peace with that. At peace with them and this moment. Content with your life, content with your mate and the life you’ve built together. You hope that Jungkook can do the same with his own someday. Build a nice little colony or whatever it is that ants do.
“Mhmm, anyone would want someone as cute as you.” You smile, watching as the ant’s eyes go wide. Blush covering his cheek as he tries to pull his antenna down to cover them. Jimin instantly pounces on the other, starting a new round of play fighting. Laughing about having to defend his mates honour. That she isn’t allowed to look at any other hybrid. No one but him.
You giggle along with them, leaning back from your spot. Taking a mental picture of the scene in front of you. Jimin happy, playing. The sunset over the horizon as the three of you laugh in the woods. As Jimin no longer looks anything like that spider all those months ago.
And maybe he’s right. Maybe you did fall into his trap lined with silk. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Even when you wake up in the middle of the woods. When you wake up in a cabin decorated in pretty webbing. When you come to find society is far behind you. When you discover no one else other than Jimin telling you that this is exactly what you asked for.
You wouldn’t have it any other way.
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⋆𐙚 if you enjoyed this fic, please consider buying me a kofi!
© all rights reserved to ctrlhope 2019-2024 ; do not copy, plagiarise, or translate.
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purgemarchlockdown · 2 days
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Yoh know, I was planning on doing this at the end of the week. Just to really make sure the month long break was month long and to confirm I really did want to return, but damn the state of the tag in the last month or two is so sad and I have a hunch as to why.
So, hi again Milgramblr! I’m Nott! I’m an enjoyer of analysis and a believer that it’s a collaborative experience where people with various opinions and come together and discuss topics!
“Nott why are you saying this, statistically speaking, we already knew this about you?” Oh cause I experienced harrasement and outright got lied to multiple times lol.
I’m just saying it because I might as well, it’s pretty obvious something happened. I don’t like saying names publically, especially when I don’t plan on ever talking about this afterwards unless they engage which…well their blocked so I hope not. But I’m using this as a jumping off point for the actual topic of discussion.
Again, part of my enjoyment of analysis comes from collaboration, and as much as I love sending giant walls of texts to friends I enjoy seeing discussion from people I don’t know too well or maybe even not at all.
I think it’s important to create spaces in which analysis without fear of being executed in the middle of town square. It’s good to have more people working togehter in good faith to enjoy something, obviously, and the only real way of doing so is to…let people’s analysis be shared and discussed.
So! I’m turning my return post into a CALL FOR ANALYSIS YEAH! I HAVE BEEN GONE FOR A MONTH! TELL ME YOUR COOL OPINIONS EITHER HERE OR IN MY ASKBOX! I am holding my paws out like furry Oliver Twist going “Please, may I please have more analysis.” The intermission is the perfect time to discuss the information we have been provided!
On stuff I’ve been mulling over: I’ve been doing my usual narrative analysis and uh…attempting to write the monster theory analysis and then Not. Plus some other fun stuff you might see soon from me! Hope you enjoy what I got thought up!
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babybells123 · 2 days
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I’ll never get over this - what an insanely cryptic statement to make . It’s also interesting that GRRM will give long rambling answers about other ships (as he tends to do in interviews and asks) but this is his response here. Short and sweet but ambiguous and entirely up to one’s interpretation - essentially think about what you’ve read.
And then it had me thinking…
To imply that George isn’t a careful writer and doesn’t put immensely intricate thought into every sentence he writes is entirely reductive to him as a writer. Especially if you claim to be a fan of said writing (you’d have to be apart of this fandom). This is the man who has taken 13 years to write TWOW, who consistently writes, scraps, and rewrites chapters if he dislikes them or they don’t fit what he’s envisioned.
And with a fandom that has discussed, debated and analysed every possible theory - providing some well-thought out essays onto the internet, consistently stating that nothing is ever a coincidence with George before delving into a lengthy analysis - it has me wondering why said theorists and ‘very intelligent’ contingents of fans will be grasping, bursting blood vessels, losing their mind and their sanity in the process just to disprove a possible match between J/S.
Now as an example that I’ve come across just yesterday on the infamous r/asoiaf - When S*nsan is brought into the conversation, it’s absolutely accepted as a plausible theory due to *checks notes* people devoting time to and picking apart evidence and to the wider fandom either not dismissing it or remaining neutral about it. (I mean, the redditor I was made privy to yesterday just disproved the Ashford tourney theory and it’s connection to Jon on the basis that it was made by a s*nsan shipper - wow !! Thanks :)) I never knew , finally my rose tinted glasses have been removed and I can bow down to you, oh wise redditor … these J words are CRAZY delusionals indeed!!
This is just one example among the many of the possible future romances that are debated endlessly on the various social media platforms , and all said ships - whether they’ve met or interacted or are very close or whatever require analysis . Deep deep analysis. Picking apart sentences, imagery, chapter ordering, literary references you name it . We all become literature students, and every ship is privy to it and hey ! More power to them - we’re all just having fun here theorising about all the possibilities for a book/s that has not yet been released.
So it begs the question , and bear with me here - I know I’ve been talking quite a lot about people opposed to and entirely dismissive of my ship - but yesterdays’ conundrum had me thinking about generalised fandom receptiveness.
See, normal fans (normal people) when presented with a theory that they genuinely believe to be so absurd/dislike/are entirely opposed to , would simply block the user, filter the content, and move on with their lives. A far happier solution, it means you’re not worked into a frenzy over something you’re aware you don’t like. Yay! Everyone’s happy! But…..
People must be debby-downers and ruin the fun , turning into genuine clouds of negativity, invading tags in which they don’t belong, creating anti blogs, writing lengthy essays disproving it all - yep, we’ve seen it, and we just ignore it as best we can.
But it gets to a point where it’s just frustrating. Because this is all so painfully hypocritical. If said intelligent fandom can provide 3 hour video essays, 50,000 word essays and reddit debates of threads with 100+ replies based on the notion of tyrion being a targaryen, or j*nrya is actually canon or the blue rose is metaphor for a future romance whatever theory that’s been put into the world - why - gods why does the entire fandom jump on the bandwagon of hating/dismissing Jonsa as soon as it’s brought up as a theory??
When we are just doing what everyone else has been doing vigorously for the last 13 years - theorising, analysing, debating like we’re literature students (and I’m a lit major, so it does feel this way). And whilst we quietly engage with and make our content, we’re ridiculed, picked apart, and vilified elsewhere for being awfully stupid people - because ….why?? Oh yes, that’s right - it is not a valid plausible theory at all, we just ship it because we self insert as sansa and jon is a heroic figure or the even sillier assumption - because Kit and Sophie are attractive people (which indeed they are, but most theories stem from the books, lmao.)
Sooo, essentially jonsas aren’t allowed into the club because …. (Well I’m actually still wondering why), because every other popular ship theory is either incestuous or involves a child being shipped with a grown person.) so Jonsa is obviously the latter, but that’s not the reason that the general fandom (J*nerys and to an extent, J*nrya) dislike them because those too - are incestuous.
If you’re an individual who is uncomfortable with all incest ships period . Then I respect that since I understand it. What I don’t understand, as seen through reddit and what I was made privy to yesterday, - were the multitude of disprovers fine with J*nerys and J*nrya and S*nsan but god forbid someone brings up Jonsa because then it’s a crackship - except all those other ships I mentioned are valid because people have analysed and theorised and written metas etc etc etc and Jonsa’s are just plain silly crackshippers.
I really have to wonder about fandom mentality, because it’s making less and less sense to me ….
Anyway George you ARE a sly one and I’ll always giggle when I come across that image.
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myobsessionsspace · 2 days
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Fun ask: Do you like unconfirmed but possible JiKook thoughts? So JK did GCF-T and used the song There For You - "But you gotta be there for me too" ending line. For 2019 summer, JM on vacation with friends, returned for JKs b'day, etc. JM made a travel vlog for that trip, using the song Come Thru - "Can you come thru?" ending line. (It always stood out to me as an odd choice for a travel vlog.) Soon after, JK began getting the tattoos that included the infamous "J M". Was that JKs answer to JMs question? Aside: the Vlog video concept reminds me of Closer Than This video theme. JMs Vlog -https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dl3QLdm2uts
Hello Lovely,
Ooohhh you’ve asked THE question. Where do I stand with unconfirmed but possible Jikook thoughts or how I’d probably see it ‘Jikooker Theories’ & ‘Jikooker Delulu’ (said lovingly)?
TL;DR - I’m the worst with this. Honestly my jikooker friends get so frustrated when they delulu and then they’re like…Em?? How about you?? And I’m like…
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The main reason I’m so enraptured by Jikook and everything around their bond is because I really don’t need to be into unconfirmed but possible thoughts.
Credit: factkm
You don’t need to squint to spot their unique duo in the midst of anything or anyone else. I don’t even need to put my glasses on to look at them and see that they’re different.
That’s what I like so much about them, they radiate in their actions and words how they feel about each other and how close and unique their bond is, whatever it is it’s closer than close and it’s the two of theirs.
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Don’t get me wrong I find it fun delving into Jikook theories. I’m blown away by the intelligent minds that can spot certain connections and patterns. I’m only human too, so I’m a nosy cow. I eat it all up, their off schedule sightings and 1:23 theories etc. I studied psychology and am a lover of love, so of course I’m interested in getting as much information to draw conclusions and all that jazz.
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One of many Jikook Icebergs. I love me some Jikook theories but…I above all love Jikook period.
But to me even if all the theories and unconfirmed thoughts of others are stripped away, Jikook give me enough to not need any of that.
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It’s a funny balance, taking in others unconfirmed Jikook thoughts. Reading what people say, people thousand of miles away from Jikook, from different upbringings, backgrounds, careers, cultures, ages, genders. People who’ve never met Jikook on a personal level or been apart of Jikook’s inner most circle and not letting it become fact to you, taking their thoughts and opinions as gospel.
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Jungkook is me sometimes when trying to get into Jikooker number theories 😩
I love all types of jikooker accounts, art ones, writer ones, historian ones, spicy ones, super investigative ones etc. I’m still figuring out myself how deep into unconfirmed jikooker thoughts I’D share.
I’d love the asks to help me discover what I would be able to answer. **SO ASK AWAY💜** and let’s see how that goes. It’d all be my opinion and my opinion only though.
If it’s not something plainly my opinion, I prefer to stand by everything being backed up by evidence from Jikook and those closest to them, like the members. If it isn’t a verified interview, from original content that can be referenced, from their vlives/weverse lives, sns etc I’m not too keen 😬
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VS
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Very easily, unconfirmed thoughts can become fact in subsections of fandoms like shipping fandoms, solo fandoms etc. So I like to make sure I can find the first source from when/where/who it started from.
So in conclusion,
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I love the fun of it all, the unconfirmed Jikook thoughts, the theories, the sleuthing and delulu.
I do try with my #Tin Foil Hat: Jikook (I’ll tag it so you can take a look if interested) but it’d maybe take asks that make me go for it in more depth?
But ultimately if it’s not from Jikook’s words, their overt and also their not so subtle displays and actions OR if it’s not from those confirmed as closest to them…then to me it’s nothing more than light entertainment that starts and ends there. Nothing that will shape how I view Jikook.
Thank you for you ask!
💜
P.S I think ‘Letter’ is Jimin’s GCF Tokyo/GCF Saipan and ‘Closer Than This’ is the fan song for the collective of BTS fans known as ARMY, cos you know, Jungkook is Jimin’s fan too!
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cienie-isengardu · 3 days
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Zuko & Azula and the importance of Ember Island
As I’m not done with talking about ATLA: The Beach episode, so here comes additional observations about Zuko and Azula and how important Ember Island is to their relationship.
There are three major episodes that explore Zuko’s background and his relationship with family.
“The Storm”, told from Iroh’s point of view, focuses on physical and emotional damage done by abusive father
“Zuko Alone” gives us better insight into Royal Family’s dynamic, with a great focus on loving and supporting mother that one night disappeared from Zuko’s life 
while “The Beach” is primarily about Zuko and Azula on the rare occasion when they are far away from Ozai and aren’t forced to fight against each other.
The Beach is also the episode that introduces us to Ember Island, a place that Zuko fondly remembers as a time when his family was truly happy.
In the same episode, after he got in an argument with Mai at the party, Zuko is seen walking toward his family’s old vacation house. The first memory that comes to his mind?
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Him and Azula running together, while we can hear children laughing in the background. There is an adult figure seen a few steps behind the happy children, but the shape is not detailed, so it could be Ozai or someone else. 
This is an interesting choice on creators' part, to make the first memory not about Ursa, the undoubtedly source of comfort and love in Zuko’s life, but about Azula with whom he currently has a complicated relationship due to father’s abuse and favoritism that shattered their childhood bond. What is even more interesting, this is not the first time we see young Azula and Zuko happily chasing each other, as such a memory was already shown in “Zuko Alone”.  
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And mind you, this memory was presented after flashback how Azula asked Zuko to play with her, Ty Lee and Mai so she could make fun of her older brother. What implies that despite how annoying she could be, Azula and Zuko still enjoyed each other's company and genuinely liked spending time together.
Let's back to "The Beach" episode and the scene when Azula sought Zuko, figuring out the old vacation home is where he would come to calm down.
Azula: I thought I'd find you here. Zuko: Those summers we spent here seem so long ago. So much has changed. Azula: Come down to the beach with me. Come on. This place is depressing. 
This is one of three moments in the same episode, when Azula allowed himself to openly admit being emotional and/or upset about something. The house (past) is depressing. She is jealous how Ty Lee is liked by all boys while she has no clue how to interact with them. Her own mother thought she was a monster and how it still hurts. 
Azula’s way to talk with Zuko is much more direct and less confusing than how she talks with him in the palace. There is no Zuzu nor dum-dum nickname, no making fun of his scar, no sentences that in theory answers his questions but in reality does not set him at ease. Here Azula invited him to go with her to the beach because she doesn’t want to be close to their summer house (the place where they were happy once but none visited for years).
Both Zuko and Azula are influenced by the past and this is a rare moment when they allow each other to be vulnerable in a way they can’t be around Ozai and themselves at the palace. In a way they won't be around the campfire (for example, during Zuko's rant about his anger because he doesn't know anymore what is good and what is bad, Azula will call him pathetic. Here there is no insult, no anger, just some sort of understanding between siblings).
A supplement book, The Legacy of Fire Nation adds another layer to the importance of Ember Island. I won’t lie, I’m disappointed that Iroh did not provide that much insight into Zuko’s family and how little there was about Azula, besides some few remarks about how difficult it was for Zuko to grow up in the shadow of younger sister. In contrast, Zuko’s memories about Ember Island are, again, directly connected to Azula first and foremost. In his list to Iroh (who already passed away many years ago), an old Zuko wrote:
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Dearest Uncle Iroh, Do you remember when I used to write you letters? It must be this place, having its effect on me, but here on Ember Island, I find myself introspective and thinking back about my life. I think I used to write to you to buy me presents. Such a cheeky child. I’ve retired now, given up my throne for the peace of this place, to be warmed by the sun and my own memories. I think of you often here. My good memories wash over the bad ones like waves on the shore, clearing the old sand and resetting. I remember summers on the beach, playing with Azula. We didn’t want to kill each other then, though sometimes we acted like it. But the island brought us together. It did that again, one time, in our teens. It was a golden time. One I never felt again until Aang, Katara, Sokka, Toph and I had finished our journey and had a moment to enjoy each other’s company. [...]
I can't stress enough: Old Zuko compared his short stay with Azula at Ember Island to the joy he felt when war was officially over and he spent time with his best, beloved friends. A golden time indeed.
We sadly have limited insight into Azula's mind, even less the older version of her, and how she felt about summers spent on the beach with her brother or the one vacation presented on screen. In the episode, she clearly enjoyed some things, like winning the game (with such nice teamwork between Azula and Zuko) or devastating Chen's house where the fateful party took place. Here, on Ember Island, Azula bonded with his brother and admitted to being hurt because mother thought she was a monster, something she internalized as a truth (“My own mother thought I was a monster. She was right, of course, but it still hurt.”). But above everything else, the fact she finds the summer house - where she and Zuko were happy once but her family does not visit anymore - a depressing place implies Azula was no less affected by the past than Zuko.
Similar impression comes from "Azula in the Spirit Temple" comics, in which runaway Azula imagined all her family together, chilling on Ember Island:
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The vision of a happy family is not just about Azula, Ursa, Ozai and Zuko but was extended to Iroh and grandfather Azulan and great-grandfather Sozin(?) - a people she wasn't that close to in the first place. It speaks a lot about Azula that her idea of a happy family, because it is connected to her childhood memories, not the Fire Lord's Palace that in itself representing the Royal Family's status and power. So I dare to say that Ember Island holds a special place in Azula's mind, the same as it does for Zuko.
All of the above makes me think that when Zuko talks about Ember Island, how once his family was happy here, he specifically means his relationship with Azula, before Ozai’s abuse shattered their bond.
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kivaember · 3 days
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Michigan's Emblem
well a passing observation had me going down a rabbit hole SO JOIN ME ON MY JOURNEY
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At a glance, the emblem looks pretty cool alright? But there are some things that leap out at me:
why does ur liger have five legs, michigan
the heraldic style of the liger
the odd placement of the blade for a heraldic style
the liger's positioning
So the leg thing is interesting to me, because in heraldic style, there are three ways that an animal can be positioned: rampant, passant and statant.
(Okay actually I lie there's more than three ways, there's like eight but there's three that's the most common)
Rampant is the one people usually think of first when it comes to heraldry: the animal is standing on its hindlegs, forelegs raised in a clawing motion or reaching out.
Passant and statant, however, is when the animal is on all fours. Passant is when a front leg is held up (much like how Ligertail's fifth leg is), and statant is when all four paws/hooves/whatever are touching the ground. Examples below:
Rampant
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Passant
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Statant
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Now Ligertail is in both Passant and Statant thanks to its five legs. This is interesting because of two things:
Statant postures are more frequent as crests than on charges on shields, which refers to their positioning on the heraldry. So, uh, crest is on the top, and charge is on the middle rightish.
A lion in passant may be called a leopard, because way back when the general rule (for English heralds) was that a passant lion was termed a leopard and a rampant lion was termed a lion.
Actually I'll be a bit more detailed: a lion in passant guardant, that is, its head facing towards the observer, is called a leopard. A lion in passant where its head is facing forwards is called a lion-leopard. (Looks at Liger... Lion-Tiger...)
In an old manuscript called de harudrie, a leopard was considered "borne of an adulterous union between a lioness and a pard" and like a mule incapable of reproducing. So a leopard was considered an appropriate charge for a person either born of adultery or someone that's forbidden to reproduce (like someone who's sworn a vow of chastity). Meanwhile lions traditionally symbolises courage, nobility, strength and valour.
OKAY so we have that quick and dirty and very simplified heraldry info out of the way (for those of you who are more au fait with heraldry feel free to chime in if i got anything wildly wrong), what does this mean for Michigan's five-legged heraldic liger?
Firstly, that it's in both passant and statant comes across as if Michigan is caught between two states, esp combined with Liger which is a Lion-Tiger hybrid. Statant is a posture usually used on crests, and a statant lion is still acknowledged as a lion, but a passant lion ends up being launched into that ambiguous realm of 'leopard' - and the whole implication of being a bastard or chaste. I wouldn't be surprised if it's Michigan making a joke. Maybe he's well-known as a bastard son of someone important, but his Hero of Jupiter title has him vaunted as a respectable figure (thus Crest) and so it's one of those 'widely known secrets no one talks about or acknowledges'.
There probably is some clever heraldic thing that the five legged liger caught between statant and passant means... let the theories flow...
Anyway, there's one other thing too: Ligertail's, er, tail. The way the tail forks and the end tapers into a sword, curled over Liger's back, sort of gives me scorpion vibes. Is it intentional? Who knows. Maybe he wanted to match with the other bug boys, or maybe he thought it looked cool. Anyways, I'm looking at that scorpion-esque tail and going hmmm.
Anyway, this was a fun deep dive. Maybe the fifth leg was just an accident and Michigan kept it because well, lol, it's funny. Or maybe there really is a deep meaning to it all hidden behing obscure heraldry rules..... or even if there isn't, I'm thinking there is one now and no one can stop me.
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armysantiny · 2 days
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12:44 – 재민 (Jaemin)
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P: Jaemin x female reader | G: timestamp, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff | Inc: office au, lunch breaks, established relationship, descriptions of self-loathing, planning dinner, Jaemin offering to pick y/n up from work | Wc: 463 | W: self-loathing| R: G
Min's notes: fun fact I literally started the word doc at 12:44 on Thursday :D this whole fic is self-indulgent honestly, I needed this on the day, bc this was exactly how much lunch break went haha. Just without Jaemin.
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There’s an ache in y/n’s chest as she slumps into the booth. The office is awash with conversation, her colleagues all walking past on their way to the cafeteria. She’d join them, on a normal day, and bask in the reprieve it grants her away from her desk. But today, she just can’t seem to bring herself to get up, to go and join the general office population. Not when her chest is tight and coiled with self-loathing, a thick sludge that coats every part of her brain and body.
She just can’t do it today.
Lunch itself doesn’t seem all to appealing anymore, and she sets her lunchbox aside, silently grieving the lack of appetite while she downs an iced coffee, the second caffeinated beverage she’s had today. Maybe that’s what’s toying with her, y/n’s mind supplies, subtle palpitations aching to prove her threadbare theory right.
But the HR admin’s had more coffee without any adverse effects, and the true culprit of her turmoil taunts her again. It’s almost pathetic, how easily her train of thought slips into cruel lies, reminding y/n by the second of her imagined incompetence.
Always bothering them, always wasting everyone’s time. Utterly useless human being.
Her phone’s ringing. Her personal phone. The call’s answered before y/n can think about letting it ring out, a whisper of desperate hope that wants whoever it is on the other line to either save her from her thoughts or put her out of her damned misery. One way or another. She isn’t picky.
“Hello, my love,” Jaemin hums, his voice bright and cheerful and undeserving of y/n’s inner misery, “I’m picking up some things for dinner tonight, how’s work going?”
“I..” and the words clog in her throat, suffocating her with the threat of burning tears until she can force them out. “I think I’ll head home early today; I need a break.”
And on the other end, in the middle of the supermarket, Jaemin’s face knits into a frown, concern making a home in his chest. Y/n didn’t sound like she was upset that morning, but now? Now it sounds like the love of his life is fracturing around the edges, desperate for salvation of any kind. He needs to get a move on, hurry home and make sure everything’s in place to give his girlfriend the tenderness she needs.
He can start with a simple offer, however.
“Do you want me to come pick you up when I’m finished with the shopping?” Jaemin offers, standing in line for the cashier. He waits for an answer, counting the seconds as they drag on, each long and—
“Please, Min. I miss you..” Y/n’s voice hovers through, and Jaemin’s plans are set.
“I’ll be over as soon as I’m done, my love.”
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© copyright work of armysantiny 2024-2025
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helluvabinge · 3 days
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Trailer Deep Dive
OK, prediction time. Spoilers if you haven't seen the trailer yet.
Take a look and let me know your predictions.
Let's start with the episode list.
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Full Moon is, I think, clearly going to be the Blitz and Stolas breakup.
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And I think it's going to hurt, because Blitz is showing up all dressed up and with a candle, that he probably picked out with Fizz's help.
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So like... he's finally turning the romance on for once. Has he realized he wants to be with Stolas JUST before Stolas decides to end things? Yup, this is going to rip out my heart.
But also, clearly Blitz says some hurtful things back to Stolas becase next episode is Apology Tour.
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Where we get Stolas singing in front of the words "Blitz Sucks."
I'm guessing the stuff where Stolas is in this robe is also from this episode since he looks so irritated with Blitz, but I also have another theory for later...
Because next comes Ghost Fuckers, which is I think where this stuff is going to fit in...
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My theory is that the Goetia realize that Stolas has given Blitz and his crew access to the mortal world and try to put a stop to it. They summon Stolas to answer for his actions and, when they try to apprehend Blitz, the crew escapes to the mortal world.
Once there, they find some human disguises and try to lay low, only to find themselves mistaken for ghost hunters at a haunted hotel. (I don't have any screenshots of that because I think it's just going to be a fun and silly episode)
I'm also going to throw out a wild theory that Stolas gets imprisoned and that's what this shot is all about.
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I am absolutely LESS confident in this theory than any of the others I mentioned, but it just looks a little mystical prisony. Or it could just be a shot in a musical number. But if it's a prison, I'll circle back to this in the finale.
EDIT - Nope, this is from Full Moon. I just saw the early release of the duet, so apparently I was wrong about this being the prison thing. Though to be fair, I still think Stolas and/or Blitz gets locked up before the finale, but whatever. We'll see.
But before any of that of course, while the crew is up on earth, they have to run into DORKS and (yay!) CHERUB. So excited for this episode. I'm guessing they have another interrogation that will rip our hearts out for Blitz with all of this shit -
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But it does seem like our team will get out of it just fine.
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So on to the finale!
Sinmas is going to be fun.
Remember how I mentioned earlier I would come back to the Stolas in a bathrobe thing? Well, that area does look vaguely like the possible mystical prison I mentioned earlier. If Stolas does end up in priosn, I'm thinking the parts with him in his bathrobe shown earlier could also be him in this prison, being bitchy to Blitz because they got caught. Again, I'm less confident in this theory. (See the Edit above - I don't think this is what happens anymore) But maybe Blitz shows up to get him out after dealing with all the trauma DORKS forced him to pull back up, because this scene DEFINITELY looks like Blitz finally dealing with his trauma and apologizing to his dead mom.
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I'm split on whether this will happen in Sinmas or Mastermind. Makes sense structurally to put it in Mastermind, but it would also be a good emotional beat for the finale to see Blitz finally confronting his guilt over his mom's death.
And as for the action...
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Is that Satan?
I'm so ready for this.
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cookiesupplier · 1 day
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Every Rose Has Its Thorns - Part Forty
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pairing: Ricky Olson x ofc x Chris 'Motionless' Cerulli
warnings/tropes: slow burn, soulmates, strangers to enemies to lovers, betrayal, angst, fluff, smut, language, online bullying, panic attacks, stalking, mental health issues, conspiracy theories.
summary: In a world where soulmates inexplicably receive a tattoo that will match that of their soulmate the moment they turn eighteen years old, being famous and covered in very visible tattoos can make finding your true soulmate a questionable fate. For everyone involved.
author’s note: Unbeta'd as usual, enjoy!
To read from the beginning, check out the Masterlist Here!
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tags: @tearfallpixie @cncohshit @jordynyingling0219 @faceless-mirror
@nyxthedestroyerofworlds @wild-child-7747 @witchyweeb34 @black-damask1999
@jilliemiw86 @ilovesamkiszka @lyschko666 @lacktoesandtoddlerants
@bngurngheart @collapsedglasshouses @laurpartyprogram @sunsshinesunny
@malerieee @talialovesmiw @shilohrosechicken @thatchickwiththecamera @tamtam-elizabeth
Tag List is Open, please let me know if you would like to be added to it or in general.
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Talia had spent most of the morning with Ava. She promised her that Vinny was supportive of them spending some time together today after how the night before had gone, even if they had already been talking so late into the night. They’d decided that they had wanted to go out after being so cooped up, and went window shopping, just like they always used to, while Vinny decided to randomly jump online for a surprise streaming session. The fact that he’d pushed them both out of the door, assuring them that his subscribers would probably just love a surprise stream, eased Talia’s worry that he might be upset about her stealing more time with Ava. 
Really, Talia just didn’t want to be that demanding friend, especially when she was already living in his house, and the thought that she might be verging on outstaying her welcome? It filled her with utter dread. Of course, the moment she was talking to Ava about the possibility of her considering whether it was time for her to go home, she shut her down immediately. Talia had tried to explain she thought she needed to sort things out back there for a little bit, but Ava hadn’t wanted to hear a word about it. She had been insistent that Talia still had so much she still needed to sort out with Ricky, not to mention whatever this was that was happening with Chris. Putting it off was not going to help anything. When Talia had looked at her quickly then, worried that her best friend was attempting to fish for more information about what was going on there. She had been clear the night before she was going to tell her, but not without talking to Chris about that. She knew how Ava could be wanting to know, but Ava knew how she was as well, especially considering her own situation. 
Relationships, soulmates, they weren’t easy, for anyone, at any time, well, Kyle and Jordan didn’t count, they were the lucky few. While it wasn’t a leap to guess this did involve Chris potentially in a relationship sense, Talia had far from even admitted that this had anything to do with this having something to do with Chris’ soulmate. She didn’t know if Vinny has or hasn’t said anything to her about Chris’ soulmate situation. After all it was only the band and his family that knew, and he said as much, he hadn’t mentioned Ava when Chris had told her. 
So they’d gone shopping. Well, they’d gone window shopping, hanging around the stores, and just having fun. It was something they used to do all the time, really just making time to hang out together out and about. Things had gotten in the way, life had got in the way, and it felt good that they could actually take the time to spend together now. It was late afternoon, when they’d gone back to Vinny’s and were finishing up watching a movie together, when Talia got a call from Ricky and Chris. The guys were asking her to come over, when they mentioned that they had an update from Chris contacts, and didn’t want to say anything else over the phone, it had gotten her attention. Oh, oh, that felt a bit weird, so of course, she agreed. She needed to know what they’d found out now.
Leaving Ava to Vinny, chuckling to herself when she got into Ava’s rental car after Vinny laughed about how he was finally getting his girlfriend back after she stole her for the whole day, how dare she.. It was nice to know he was joking. Talia would readily admit, people made her nervous sometimes, especially jokes like that from Vinny. Vinny’s opinion mattered, because Ava mattered, and the thought of ruining that balance between them was definitely a worry, too much, and she wasn’t sure how it would turn out. She was never going to be that friend that would make Ava choose. Knowing everything was fine with him was making it easier, or at least Ava assuring her it was. 
Not that it mattered right now, she was happy that Vinny seemed okay for the moment with Ava. What she was curious about was what Chris seemed to have found out and hadn’t wanted to tell her over the phone. That was what she was wondering as she drove over Chris place, picking up something for dinner on the way, she told them she would, even if it was a little early. She’d offered not wanting to worry about it like last night and if it was anything like yesterday, as fun as it had been, she didn’t think she could handle another night of strawberry covered chocolates. Though, she had a feeling if Rick was going to offer to make dessert again, he wasn’t going to risk those brownies not working a second time. Or worse, would he do the strawberries on purpose.. No, no, it was better she offered to take care of dinner tonight.
So that was how Talia turned up at Chris’ house with a few pizzas in hand. She picked up the meat lovers for Ricky, she knew it was a safe choice for him, vegan mediterranean for Chris because she knew he loved it. She picked up a vegan deluxe for herself as it was something she could share, and it was something they could all eat if they wanted. If she made sure that Ricky’s pizza was the extra spicy version, then that was for her to know after Chris chilli story last night, maybe she was looking forward to seeing his face while he was eating it. The first bite wasn’t that bad, she knew that much, it was as you continued to eat it, that was when the heat really hit, but all the same, that was how she turned up, pizza, garlic bread, drinks.. Dinner all ready.
Almost as soon as she rang the bell the door swung open and Chris was right there, just like last time, so it made her curious what was happening. He looked, well, she wasn’t sure if he was just nervous, excited, what was that look in his eyes as he seemed to want to vibrate out of his skin? Between Chris and Rick, who seemed to pop out of nowhere the next second to usher her into the house, both of them taking the small stack of pizza and food from her arms as they brought her in. There was a strange energy vibrating as she looked between the two of them right then, a tingle running down her spine as they ushered her into the house.
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It was starting to get to be a familiar feeling, sitting around the couches together, talking. Only this time, Ricky felt different. Instead of wound up and tense as a coil as he had been the last few times, he had hope. After all the mistakes, the missteps he’d been making with Talia, after how horribly he’d treated her, he knew he needed to make it up to her. Ricky had hope. He felt a bit more relaxed. That wasn’t to say he wasn’t sitting there, a little wound up, but tonight, at least, it was for a different reason. 
So as they were eating dinner, Rick let Chris take the reins for explaining everything with Micah. He started going over everything with the message board, and the freaky first phone call, then the weird spy craft moment that Rick had,
“Are you going to get to the point of the story any time soon, Chris?”
Ricky chuckled as he asked after he swallowed a bite of his pizza, glancing at Talia, the spicy sauce dancing on his tongue as he did. He knew what she’d done with his pizza, the smirk on her lips told the story what she was waiting for, he wasn’t going to give it to her. This was nothing compared to Chris’ chilli, nothing. Cheeky, though, very cheeky. He did wink to her though, he’d give her this one.
“If you want to take over, Ricky, be my guest.”
Smirking, as his attention returned to Chris.
“No, go ahead, he’ll get to the important part eventually, Sweetheart, I swear.”
Taking another bite of his pizza, it actually wasn’t bad. He was going to have to ask Talia later if it was a specific change she made to the order, or just a different pizza she’d bought to the ones he’d usually go with. After, of course, no doubt getting ribbed about admitting to enjoying it, he knew that was coming if he asked her at all. Maybe he could find a way around that, who could say. 
Finally, Chris got to the part about Micah explaining to them about the dangers about the testing with the other scientists. Ricky was done with his pizza by this point, even if he hadn’t been, he’d have dropped it to focus on Talia. He was worried how she might take this part, she had enough trouble with doctors, he didn’t want her to have to agonise over what might happen to her, to any of them.
“Sweetheart, don’t you worry for one second that we’re going to let anything happen, we’ve already talked it out. Chris has already deleted his contacts on the message boards, Micah himself pointed out that he should cut off all contact with the research departments, including himself.”
When Talia looked over to him the moment Ricky spoke, he knew she needed the assurances, even though he could see how strong she was trying to be. He couldn’t even imagine the thoughts going through her head right now, and if he was honest, he didn’t really want to.
“The only contact to anyone, in any way, is this burner phone number. Admittedly, to Micah, but it is only this burner phone, nothing else.”
Chris held up the phone Micah had called them on earlier.
“Micah has emphasised he will only call if he finds out someone else in the department has my name, or my contact info somehow. They should never have it though, JellyBean, I assure you. I did everything anonymously. Micah is literally the only person that knew anything about me personally, and yesterday was the very first time he spoke to a single soul other than me.”
Ricky watched as Chris reached for her hand, he wanted to reach for her too, but he remembered the night before. Even then, all it took was the slightest brush between them and for the flare of sensation linking their tattoos to burst through and overcome them, even with Chris in the kitchen. Not to mention trying to sleep last night, all he could think about was watching them both eat those damn strawberries. He honestly didn’t know if they had been the worst, or best, idea ever. Still, he’d gotten a dessert made in the end, so neither of them had been able to say a single thing, he’d met Talia’s challenge, hands down.
“So,”
Talia looked towards them both as she spoke softly,
“What it comes down to is that we now all have two soulmates, and we can’t tell anyone?”
“At least no one we don’t trust with our lives. Essentially.”
Some might say that was a bit much when Ricky said it like that, but he didn’t see it that way. While yes, if the wrong person heard about this, it could go sideways really fast, and none of them was going to stand for that. He knew all of them had very tight-knit circles, though. Talia because of the painful past that she had, and for Chris and Ricky, their professional work, and their unfortunate history with stalkers, it came with the territory. 
“Where do you two think we should go from here?”
Talia’s voice was quiet, glancing between them both nervously, and Ricky had a feeling he knew exactly what the problem was. He had made his stance clear on soulmates before, well, after Grace, crystal clear. He didn’t want one, not with Talia, and even when Chris started showing signs, he obviously pushed him towards her instead.
Here, this was why he was a little wound up this time, not because he was having to keep his distance from Talia, and Chris, with the tattoos, but because of what he planned to say.
“Well, we go on a date.”
Soon as he said it though, he felt both pairs of eyes looking at him, Talia and Chris both turning to him, and he raised an eyebrow at him as Chris voiced what they were obviously thinking,
“Who are you talking to, Rick?”
Smiling, really, they were really asking him that, he just gave them a look, wasn’t it obvious?
“Both of you, idiots.”
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Dividers by @saradika-graphics
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dangerpronebuddie · 2 days
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Okay, I hate this
I hate this I hate this I hate this
We just had an episode that implied Eddie didn't know he could say no to the possibility of sex with Marisol. It was also implied that option didn't occur to Buck either.
And now there's a speculation that Buck and Eddie are not just letting loose and having fun... but are drugged and out of their minds.
Eddie getting his shirt ripped off because he's finally breaking out of the box he's been confining himself to? Beautiful and poetic and I love it.
Eddie getting his shirt ripped off because he's been drugged? No fucking thank you!!!!
But it's possible and that pisses me off.
(Whump is always fun. But in canon, with two characters who don't know they can say no and one who's been assaulted before, it's not good!!! This show is fantastic about handling serious issues and heavy conversations. Consent? Not so much).
Unfortunately, since there's possibilities surrounding consent right now, I have a theory or two.
If they're really copy pasting BT onto Eddie and Marisol, then they could possibly do the 5x11 thing and Eddie is going to kiss someone. Drunk. (Or drugged, depending on that spec). Consent? Don't know her.
But if they do, it could shatter the box he's been in, and himself. I hate the idea that Eddie always has to completely break to be able to heal, but he doesn't know any other way to be. Ryan hinted at the possibility of Eddie breaking again. So what makes it happen, what does he learn from it, and how does Marisol factor in?
If they do the BT parallel and he kisses someone, consensual or not, he's going to feel incredibly guilty about it. He's failed as a boyfriend (and knowing him, he'll twist it around as failing as a father too) and the box will break again.
The next few episode titles even lean into the guilt of it all. Ghost of a Second Chance, Step Nine, even Unfinished Business is ominous enough to suggest the storyline is involved there too.
With the writers for 7x08 being Juan Carlos Coto and Bradley Marques, and Coto being who wrote the breakdown, I wouldn't be surprised in the very least if something happened that episode. It doesn't need to be a breakdown again, but it can be this cathartic experience where Eddie finally lets go of the guilt he's been carrying for decades.
The title for 7x08 has been on my mind since we found out about it. Step Nine in AA is about making amends, no matter what. It's going to be a Bobby centric episode, no doubt, but Juan Carlos Coto usually writes episodes that are big for both Bobby and buddie (2x06, 3x09, 4x05, 5x13, 5x16, 6x10 to name just a few). Add in the fact Bradley Marques is writing it with him, the guy who's only done episode 100 so far, is... Interesting!
Bobby is likely making amends with Amir. Eddie has to make amends with himself. If we get a realization or a coming out that episode? I will pass out.
They're setting it up to be a brilliant queer storyline for Eddie. I would HATE for it to be tainted by drugs and a lack of consent and another cheating storyline.
And if they don't go the drug route (yay!), then an almost between Buck and Eddie would most likely be enough to make Eddie feel guilty about it and then have to face it and realize he has nothing to feel guilty about at all. Nothing happened. He just realized he wants it to happen, and for a moment it felt like Buck did too. It would push him to either hide with Marisol or drop her and be free. And since he's grown and recognized that he moved too fast asking her to move in, it's possible he breaks up with her instead of becoming more serious.
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garf-lover96 · 3 days
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Vesuvia Weekly; Inside Jokes (Rowan and Julian)
okay so a bit is technically a joke and i had this thought about them just doing improv during some mundane activities.. there's a lot of dialogue here so it was really fun to write (though like always i was a little worried whether it's in character enough..). and i wrote this whole thing while laying on my carpet because my sheets were in the washing!! so fun!
there's just a little more than 1k words here by the way! it's all sappy and mushy. and i included my olive theory headcanon
———
"Juliannn, I finished tidying." Rowan walks into the kitchen, stretching his arms and yawning. He approaches Julian from behind and hugs his waist gently.
"Oh? That took quite a bit longer than usual, I'm already finished with dinner. A lot of dust today?" he smiles and turns around to kiss his partner's forehead.
"No, Malak didn't stick the landing earlier and knocked over some jars-"
"What-? Why didn't you tell me that? I would've helped!"
"It's fine! It's fine, I've gotten it covered. The shop is squeaky clean now..." Rowan yawns again, "And I am sooo hungry." he looks over Julian's shoulder and into the pot in front of him.
"...Like what you see?" Julian asks with a smirk.
"That sauce looks amazing..." Rowan sighs out and leans against Julian's frame.
"Well, the recipe was Pasha's courtesy. Ah, and she was the one that made the pasta... I haven't gotten the hang of that yet."
"You'd make such a good househusband..."
"No, come on... Would you like a househusband that can't even make edible pasta?"
"Mm, if he was as handsome as you..." Rowan snickers and pokes Julian's side, making him jerk back with a yelp, continued by embarrassed chuckling.
"You flirt... Just sit already, I can hear your stomach growling."
Rowan chuckles and goes to sit down at the table. He pulls his feet up on the chair and looks up at Julian with a smile while he brings the plates over and sits down across from him. The pasta does look delicious... Rowan's never been a big tomato fan but he is possibly the biggest tomato sauce fan in all of Vesuvia.
"You didn't put any olives in, right...?" Rowan inquires with a slightly raised eyebrow.
"Not in your plate. I have them all to myself now." Julian snorts when he looks up to see Rowan's disapproving scowl, "I don't judge your food choices!" he adds with a soft scoff.
Rowan rolls his eyes a little and starts eating. He twirls the pasta around his fork swiftly and puts it into his mouth, with his head just above the plate.
After a while of silence while they're both busy eating, Julian says something again.
"That's no way for a proper gentleman to go about this... You eat like a beast."
Rowan raises his eyes to be met with Julian's familiar expression. That silly teasing smirk. So he answers accordingly.
"That's because I am a beast. A very fierce and dangerous one."
"Right, of course. What kind of beast are you?"
"Umm... A dragon! Yes, that."
"Ah, I can picture that already... But what color?"
"Red. Naturally."
"And just how big of a dragon are you?"
"Twenty feet."
"...In length or height?"
"Height, of course."
"Well that's just greedy..."
Rowan holds up a finger to silence him and Julian just smirks again.
"Fine then. You're a huge red dragon. So can I ride you?"
Rowan snorts and covers his mouth in fear of spitting his pasta out. He recovers and swallows his bite.
"Wait, but who even are you?"
"Uh... Maybe just a simple peasant with a soft spot for dragons. So I come with a query. Can I ride you, oh mighty dragon? So I can experience the feeling of soaring the sky, the wind of my face and escaping my mundane life as a simple olive farmer..."
Rowan wrinkles his nose at that slightly and it makes Julian scoff again.
"So...?" he raises his eyebrows, waiting for an answer.
"The Rowan-dragon considers it. And then he eats you whole. One bite."
"Er- Huh? But why?"
"Sheep shortage. He's very hungry."
"But I'm all skin an bones! I'm a very humble farmer, not nutritious at all!"
"The dragon doesn't particularly care."
"But I'm so full of love and affection for you, dear dragon! I could've offered you something no mere sheep would be able to. If only you haven't eaten me... Now I'm just slowly dissolving in your dragon stomach acids... Nobody will even remember the name of... Uh... Wilhelm Olivewilhelm..."
Rowan shakes his head slowly with a weak grin.
"Maybe it's better off not being remembered-"
"Rude! So that's just it? Wilhelm gets eaten and that's the end of his story?"
"No, uh... The dragon reconsiders the situation and spits you- Wilhelm up. Wait, should I say you or Wilhelm?"
"Whatever you see fit. But how is that possible? Wasn't it a bite? I'm like a bloody mush now."
"Eh, it was more of a gulp, actually. So the dragon spits you up and you're mostly undamaged. The dragon is moved, in fact. Moved by the love he felt radiating off of you while you were in his stomach."
"Right. So, mighty dragon, will you let me love you? I don't care what the world thinks of us... My feelings are strong, undeniable and I can't hide them anymore-"
"The dragon leans in for a big, sloppy kiss."
"That's..."
"Do you return the kiss? Your whole head is in the dragon's mouth by the way.
"How is that supposed to work then...?"
"I don't know, lick him from the inside?"
"Rowan, ew!"
They both explode into laughter, forgetting about their pasta almost completely. When they manage to calm down a little, Rowan leans back and yawns again.
"Aww, is my dear dragon that tired already? You should just go to sleep once we finish eating." Julian says with a soft smile.
"Well, terrorizing villages does take up a lot of energy. And I can't go to sleep right after this, I get heartburn..." Rowan rubs his eyes a bit and leans down again to finish his pasta.
"Then I'll make you chamomile tea." Julian shovels the last bit of his food into his mouth and gets up from his seat.
"Thank you, Wilhelm." Rowan answers with a grateful smile.
While Julian prepares the drink, Rowan manages to clear off his plate. Then Julian approaches again and sets the tea poured into Rowan's favorite flowery cup on the table in front of him.
"You're still a little dirty, darling." Julian instinctively reaches forward to wipe Rowan's face and gasps when his fingers get bitten down on.
"Hey, what's this for?"
Rowan lets go after a moment.
"I'm still the dragon. It's an immersive experience. Besides, don't you know that dragons are allowed to go to sleep all dirty and disgusting?"
"Not my dragon. My dragon is supposed to go to sleep all clean and smelling like fresh flowers." he states and grabs the nearest piece of cloth so he can clean Rowan's face.
"No, an ambush-!" Rowan yelps and starts squirming under his touch. Julian just carries on with a grin.
"Now," Julian sets the cloth away and hands Rowan the cup of tea "take your little drink and to bed with you, dragon. I'll handle the dishes."
Rowan gets up from his seat with another yawn and Julian puts an arm around him just to give him a little peck on the lips. Then he nudges him towards the exit of the kitchen.
"I love you, dearest dragon."
"The dragon loves you too."
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commonmexicanname · 3 months
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You know what we didn't see? If Crowley and the Metatron made eye contact outside of the book shop.
I mean, for all we know, Crowley was ready to peel outta there. He was feeling the sting of rejection. But... Maybe as he walked to his car, the Metatron began to make his way to the shop. Maybe he walked as close as possible to be noticed by, but not actually run into, Crowley. Maybe Crowley spotted a look on the Metatron's face.
A smile? A smug even? A proud "ha-ha, I win, you lose" look? Perhaps just a look the Metatron was not attempting to hide that gave Crowley a chill down his spine?
And maybe that's why Crowley didn't leave. Maybe that's when it clicked for Crowley. That maybe, things aren't the way they seem.
Maybe...
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so let me get this straight, watcher:
An unknown party is planting VHS tapes on your own set weekly, containing ad reads by:
a self-proclaimed professor
who mentions unfortunate encounters with horses
who has an 'estranged wife'
whose jacket is tan and tie and red
who is a 'gamer'
whose image flickered in like a hologram in an earlier ad read,
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and you want us to just like, not think Something Smells Fishy. OK...
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palebluebirdcomputer · 4 months
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Vengeance of the Moon Knight theory
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aro-culture-is · 11 months
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quick note - this blog is gonna be sparse again for at least this week. trying new medications and tbh initial side effects are not super pleasant + actual effects build up. as a result: currently as if unmedicated for mental health, with anxiety+ side effect, extra fatigue, dizziness, and fatigue. it's uh, sure something.
totally recognize that most of y'all know we're absent at times due to health things, just wanted to give a heads up that this one is at least anticipated.
#fun fact sometimes condensing meds just means poorer treatment of some conditions#this is a re-expansion + new thing#so that instead of poorly treating my mental health and using an unusually high dose SNRI for another (physical) condition#i will hopefully both be in less pain AND not depressed af AND also have an appetite again#i doubt i will be lucky and not have a fucked stomach due to meds but one can hope that an appetite will allow me to eat foods that upset#my stomach a lot less#my health is forever a massive balancing act#every time a medical thing is like 'so what meds do u take' i'm like here i wrote it down for u#and they're like 'oh. ooookay. let me just...' *five minutes of typing and clicking later*#'so! what did you come in for again? uhuh. you said you experience pain daily? with your chronic pain thing? hm. have you tried yoga?'#/gen#like. straight up every time i say 'i am in pain all the time due to fibromyalgia' they are like 'ooh studies say regular exercise helps'#and like. theoretically yes! but also. i would be lying if i said the fibromyalgia studies i've skimmed don't set off general 'bad science'#alarm bells in my brain#like... cool you performed a fibromyalgia study with... all male lab rats? mhmm? so are you aware fibromyalgia appears to occur#overwhelmingly in women? like. data seems to suggest between 70-85%?#(not that the data can't still indicate things but it certainly makes male rats a poor choice of model for tests on it)#also just... idk i've looked at some metaanalysis and been like 'okay cool theory and for all i know about human bio or bio in general that#sounds more or less correct BUT. you never discussed that one study on this subject that did NOT support your conclusion.#and that's 1) interesting when it was the most diverse group of subjects and the exceptions often teach just as much as the 'rule'#2) just shitty science. tell me how your theory is still credible when some evidence doesn't fit the model.#like... 'given that all other studies were primarily conducted on white american women in their 30s to 40s it is possible that this model#only explains (the early effects of fibro since that's a typical onset period) / (a possible genetic link primarily found in white women) /#(a possible sign of bias in diagnosis that demonstrates the possibility that there are different causes) / combinations of all of those#like... idk a paper that just throws out things that don't support it is a pretty big red flag#it doesn't mean the conclusion is entirely incorrect but it is often important to understand the context in which it applies#like... it's very easy to jump to an incorrect conclusion if you used something in the wrong context#ie: thumbs up is a good job / positive thing in a lot of western civilizations. teenage kee once went to china and discovered it to be#neutral to offensive in many areas outside of major tourist locations that were used to it#anyways i gotta sleep
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ganondoodle · 9 months
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botw got me into watching every zelda theory on the planet and totk got me out of it :I
i will focus on my comic and the rewrite project, rant here an there or answer some questions but im pretty sure im not gonna watch/read anything zelda theory related for a good while
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