#but they at least knew that like. they were inexplicably drawn to each other in a way that they weren't to their wives

[nopefer-art-tu]

so i was thinking abt the old brokeback mountain forum threads i had stumbled upon last yr and i remember coming across a very lengthy one where people were debating the nature of ennis and jack's relationship during their days on brokeback mountain. specifically, people were debating about whether or not ennis and jack kissed at all during those first few months of friendship and fucking.

i know what y'all may be thinking: but nickie, didn't they literally kiss, like, super passionate style during the unfamous second-night-in-the-tent (or SNIT, as the BetterMost forum users dubbed it) scene?

but see, the thing is that in the original short story Annie Proulx never mentioned them kissing during their time on the mountain. In fact, the first (and only) time kissing is mentioned is during their reunion. In an interview, Ang Lee had said that the whole SNIT scene was written into the film to help audiences better understand the budding passion and love between Ennis and Jack. Otherwise, they felt viewers wouldn't quite get the depth of feelings that they had for each other, and thought they would've been lost as to why it hurt them both so bad to be separated earlier than they'd anticipated.

of course i love the idea that they eased into intimacy so early on in their relationship that they made out a ton while herding on the mountains, but imo, it's also kind of interesting to think about the reunion scene being their first kiss.

in her Story to Screenplay book essay, Annie Proulx said that ranchers would often hire two guys to tend a flock together so that they could 'poke each other' on the lonesome days in the mountains. In some ways, Ennis and Jack fucking was a normal and anticipated part of the job—a 'one-shot thing' that would occur simply due to circumstance. She said what was unusual about Ennis and Jack's case is that the two had fallen into a deep, once-in-a-lifetime kind of love during their time together, thus negating the whole 'one-shot' thing Ennis had declared it to be.

with that in mind, i can see why so many people believed that they never kissed during their initial months of relationship building. They both could have justified it by thinking that as long as they didn't kiss, their tryst didn't mean anything special, nor would it make them queer for going at it like rabbits. Then they both go through the turmoil of losing each other, not knowing why it was they felt so bad about going their separate ways, and go through four long years of silence before "the first sign of life" appears in the form of a postcard.

Jack pulls up in Ennis' driveway, and Ennis is so overcome with joy and desire that first thing his (alcohol-muddled) mind thinks to do is kiss the living daylights out of Jack, and in that moment—as those old forum users had put it—that was basically the first time either of them were able to acknowledge to themselves that the summer on the mountain in '63 meant a whole lot more to them than it should have.

i dunno. i think it's a really interesting subject to think about, one that gets broached in fics very rarely. would like to hear your all's thoughts, if any!

#brokeback mountain #still brokeback posting #also i KNOW this is my art acc but unfortunately my main is like hidden? so none of my posts will show up in tags :( #anyways regardless of if they did or didnt kiss beforehand im a big fan of the idea that after their big reunion kiss their intimacy #deepened considerably to the point where like. the motel scene wasnt just them fucking but it was their first time making love #like did they make out during the mountain months? maybe. but did they ever fuck facing each other? imo probably not. not until 1967 #cause again its like the first time they realized just what they had meant to each other and how much they had missed each other #maybe they still couldnt register it as love because they didnt want to and couldnt take that big of a step as to name it. or maybe they #didnt think that they were capable of feeling love. or maybe they just didnt have the vocab to be able to define those feelings as love #in the first place. #but they at least knew that like. they were inexplicably drawn to each other in a way that they weren't to their wives

[baekberrie]

our pages | c.beomgyu

summary: In a university literature class, you and Choi Beomgyu, once estranged best friends, are assigned to rewrite the tragic ending of Romeo and Juliet. During your research in the library, you stumble upon an ancient book. Intrigued by its enigmatic aura, you find yourselves mysteriously drawn to it, and as you delve deeper, you inexplicably fall into a shared slumber. In your reverie, you are forced to embark on a journey of reconciliation and reflection. Guided by the ethereal world within the book's pages, you confront long-buried emotions and rediscover the true depth of your connection.

✧ ex bestfriend! beomgyu x ex bestfriend! reader

✧ romance, estranged best friends to ?? lovers kind of? Romeo and Juliet au, slight angst, forced proximity, hurt, and comfort, a hint of drama and fantasy

✧warnings: kissing, Beomgyu cusses here and there, some tonal switches, many dialogues

a/n: I've read through this one shot at least a hundred times so I skipped the proofreading because I was really eager to post it, i hope there aren't any atrocious mistakes (there shouldn't be). Anyway, happy reading!

✧ w/c: 13.7k (oops??)

“For never was a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo.” 

Mr. Kim’s voice flowed in the silent literature hall, every person letting the tragedy sink in like ink on paper. The professor looked up from his script. “And that concludes the Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet-” He spoke in short sentences, however, suspense hung in the air as he halted in his steps across the room.

“But it can’t end like this, don’t you agree?” The class let out a collective hum as they reflected on his enthusiastic question. Mr.Kim took the slightly undersized glasses off the bridge of his nose and placed them on the desk behind him. 

 It really can’t end like this,” Your best friend, Mia, sniffed into the paw of her sleeve, agreeing silently. Mentally, you shook your head at her dramatic antics. You knew that deep down, she didn’t really give a flying fuck about Romeo and Juliet, but since her toxic boyfriend was pushing and pulling again, it all hit close to home.

“I want you all to find a remedy to their story. I’ll pair you into groups of two, and together you’ll write the better ending for Romeo and Juliet.” It wasn’t a question, it wasn’t a suggestion, he was dead serious about this project. In all honesty, you found the ancient love story absolutely beautiful, however, couldn’t help but wonder who broke Mr.Kim’s heart enough for him to be so hung up over this fictitious separation. 

Mia sneaked her hand into yours, shaking you out of your thoughtful state.

“Don’t you agree?” Her sad deer-like eyes came into your view, begging for your empathy. “It’s so sad, it’s like the worst way to part from someone,” She mumbled through her pouty lips. “ever,” a sniff came from her nose, shoulders slumping as she hit the backrest again. 

“The worst way to part with someone?” You thought out loud. If someone were to ask you that question, you would undoubtedly answer with something other than Romeo and Juliet.

Fallouts. You thought. Yeah, those were definitely more painful.

More specifically, the fallout with Choi Beomgyu. 

Sure, Romeo and Juliet’s separation hurt, you admitted while watching your best friend sulk about her toxic boyfriend leaving her for the fifth time that month; but have you ever been estranged from the dearest friend you’ve ever had? The question insensitively introduced itself in your head, but you quickly shooed it away. Romeo and Juliet, their love for each other, and the violence that broke them apart ended up becoming one altogether. 

But cherishing someone so deeply, only to be cruelly pulled apart from each other, your relationship reduced to nothing but hostility. Leaving you to experience that pain every single time you cross paths with him. Wasn’t that just as painful, if not more? Knowing you’ll never be the way you once were.

Choi Beomgyu was by now a name that shouldn’t be pronounced in your presence, it was a name loaded with so many different feelings that you were better off burying down the deepest holes ever known to man. 

You wanted to forget.

But like a cruel joke, the more you pushed it away the more everything would come crashing upon you with double force; The memories your heart cherished despite your efforts to suppress them, every little thing that he had given you, why did it still mean so much to you while all you harbored in your chest was a seething rage at the mere thought of him?

The young man was always smiling whenever you’d walk past each other in the busy hallways of the university. A part of you resented him for that. Whilst you were still stuck in time, he seemed to be completely fine. Like you never were a part of his life. 

Has it been that easy for him to forget you?

You didn’t know why you were still hung up over it, even after all the time that had passed. Hence, you could barely recall the last time the two of you had spoken to each other more than two obligatory words. The only reason that you still knew what his voice sounded like was because you shared this literature class. Much to your dismay.

That explained the utter horror, disappointment, and betrayal contorting the features of your face as Mr. Kim’s lips enunciated your and Beomgyu’s name in the same sentence. Silent pleas were sent Mr. Kim’s way as you met his gaze with big eyes, shaking your head slowly and mouthing several desperate no’s. The old man mercilessly slid the information paper on your desk. He knew damn well the two of you weren’t on speaking terms, and yet there you were being paired up for a project where you had to find a better ending for the youthful lovers. The two of you hadn’t been able to find one for yourselves, how in the world were you going to fix Romeo and Juliet’s!?

Picking up your jaw, you whipped around in your seat to send the young man a fiery glare that could hopefully get the message across. But he was looking out the window, painfully obviously avoiding your confrontation. Shoulders dropping, you turned back around, feeling stupid. Don’t act like you care, you reprimanded yourself.

He doesn’t care, so why should you?

To your surprise, he cared enough to wait for you outside of class, and a silly part of your brain thought that maybe this was something you could get done without further problems. But that small hope soon wilted to nothing when Beomgyu opened his foul little mouth.

“I am not doing this with you.” He gritted through his teeth, the hostile tone immediately had your heartbeat quickening in your chest. Squinting your eyes, you pushed the paper Mr. Kim had given you into his chest. Beomgyu’s hands awkwardly fumbled to catch it.

“And I am not doing this on my own.” You hissed, bumping your shoulder into his. “I’ll see you in the library after class.” It was a warning, and Beomgyu should know better than to not show up. Though, deep down you knew that he owed you no such thing.

***

A few people were roaming around the library when you pushed through the glass doors, the wooden pavement creaking underneath the pressure of your feet. The scent of books and pages instantly embraced your senses, and you welcomed it by breathing it in. You found it somehow comforting, how the light of the setting sun laid itself on the walls like the most delicate of paints, and how the dust particles flickered in the sunrays, glistening like tiny stars. 

Fingers tracing the long forgotten books on the oldest shelf of the library, dust tickled your nose but your eyes relentlessly kept searching for that title. The kind lady behind the desk had directed you here when you had asked for the Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet. She had been doubtful about the university library owning such an old piece of literature, but you tested your luck anyway. There was no better way to start this project than by finding different adaptations to compare and review.

A little frown puckered your brows when your fingertips suddenly sunk into the carved title on the back of a book at the end of the line. The color was faded gold painted into the brown leather cover protecting the ancient-looking book. 

“Lovestory.” Your lips mouthed the title curiously. Finding the closest table, you threw your things on the next chair and sat down. Hands eagerly opening it, you noted how the yellowing pages were sewn beautifully into the leather. 

Before your eyes could find any text, they fell on the odd illustrations. A fading picture of a princess-like woman adorned by a shimmering tiara around her soft hair. Her position was pensive as she stood by the railing of a balcony, staring into the night. However, what seemed to strike you about the picture was how her face was nonexistent. It wasn’t as if her face had faded with the age of the book, hence more like it had never been painted on purpose. 

You felt your eyes droop tiredly as your gaze found the first sentences written in cursive ink. Your lips mumbled the sentences absentmindedly as you read.

We were both young when I first saw you

I close my eyes, and the flashback starts

I'm standing there

On a balcony in summer air…

***

Many internal battles had taken place in the head of the young man. He hated to admit that he lost every single one of them, as he found himself standing in front of the glass doors of the library.

With a heavy sigh, he pushed his way in, nose taking in the woody smell etched onto the walls. His eyes scanned for the familiar face, but to his dismay, you were nowhere to be found. A frown creased his forehead as he started taking hesitant steps inside, figuring he would have to search for you deeper within the library.

The book archive felt like a maze as Beomgyu walked through every aisle and still did not find the slightest sign of you. For a moment he thought that you’d already headed home, successfully fooling him. Eyebrows twitching, he could feel his blood starting to boil.

Was that it? Had he really just lost this battle against you? Beomgyu wasn’t sure what he had expected once he’d convinced himself that he owed you this one since it was for a project, but it certainly hadn’t crossed his mind that you would pull such a petty little trick to get back at him. And he had fallen for it-

Beomgyu’s angry stomping suddenly halted when he found himself in an unrecognizable part of the library. He had been so deep within his inner turmoil that he hadn’t paid any attention to where he had unconsciously brought himself.

It surprised him, though, that out of all the spots he could’ve wandered into, he managed to blindly find you.

For there you were, hunched over the round table by the window, cheek squished against an open book with your parted lips threatening to salivate on its pages. Once Beomgyu had willed himself to step closer, the louder your snores resonated. He couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped his throat at the familiar sight. Sitting himself on the opposite seat, he took a short moment to soak in the situation. It felt odd. He couldn’t remember the last time the two of you had been in each other’s presence like this, basking in the peaceful warmth of the sunset. Well, this was only possible because you were far into dreamland. He knew that if the both of you were to be awake, this would not have been a friendly meeting.

His gaze traveled along your features, following the path that your hair made while scattered over the table, covering the book you had approved as a very comfortable pillow, for you to snore like that, he thought.

But that was when it hit him.

The book. What book were you even reading? Beomgyu felt an unknown sense of curiosity and urge flow within him, sending an itch into his fingers. Ever so gently, he caressed your hair and tucked an amount behind your ear, revealing the old novel you had been reading. A confused frown puckered his brows as he saw the antiquity of it. Carefully, he removed it from the captivity of your head, but not without making sure that your cheek landed back down softly, with his palm gently guiding your face safely to the surface again.

Beomgyu closed the book to admire its build, with the old leather running underneath his fingertips, he pronounced the carved-out title of the book.

Lovestory.

He flipped it open, the first page revealing the suave illustration of a beautiful young woman from a long time ago. It didn’t take him much to know that whatever this book was about, the heroine of this story was her. For some reason, Beomgyu felt a sense of familiarity wash over him by looking at the illustration. Then it dawned on him and a shiver ran down his spine, fingers tightening around the page.

“This girl looks an awful lot like-“ he gasped, looking away from the yellowing pages down to your sleeping figure in front of him, making sure that his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. Only to realize that the lady in the book was identical to you. 

No, actually,

It was you.

"What the fuck.” The young man shuddered, nothing less than creeped out. For a split second, he considered closing the book. But his curiosity was stronger than him, and before he knew what he was doing, his hand had already flipped over to the following page. The new illustration was only going to perplex the boy further. His lips fell open, completely entranced as his orbs drank in the sight of you in a beautiful dress and a shimmering tiara coronating your head. You were standing on a balcony, hand reaching out to a man climbing his way up to you. Roses and flowers surrounded the two. Nothing short of a fairytale.

In this scene, he had seen it somewhere, but he couldn’t pinpoint it just yet, although the answer was tickling his tongue.

The man climbing your balcony was the most confusing feature to him, for he had no face. Beomgyu couldn’t tell whether the paper was just old enough to be faded, or if it had never been painted. But even then, it made no sense. Because your face, your rosy cheeks, and your sparkling eyes were ever so vivid. Almost as if you’d jumped right into the book. Beomgyu eventually spotted the worn-out text underneath the picture, and read it out.

See the lights, the party, the ball gowns

See you make your way through the crowd

Little did I know…

That you were Ro-

A yawn broke through his lips, his eyelids felt like they weighed tons as he slowly let them fall shut, head coming to rest upon the open book. Beomgyu tried to fight the sudden tiredness in his mind, but the slumber taking over him was like the song of a mermaid luring him in. 

Just like that, he had fallen into dreamland as well, missing the way the faceless man climbing the balcony came to life.

Beomgyu felt his body jolt awake, his eyes shot open after what felt like just a few seconds- but the view in front of him was nothing like the one he had fallen asleep to. There was no library, no old books, but most importantly, you weren’t there. However, before he could even start to worry, a strong arm came around his shoulders, an unknown figure pulling him close. 

“Romeo! Why did you leave us like that?” 

What?

Beomgyu turned his head to find a young man just about his age, his Cheshire-like eyes stared at him with a mischievous smile through a mask that covered just half of his face. The ornament was beautiful, with sparkling gold patterns scattered onto it. His gaze traveled to the man’s clothes, noticing the Renaissance details. Beomgyu winced when he recognized the man.

”Yeonjun?” He asked, baffled. ”What are you doing here?” 

The man in question narrowed his eyes helplessly, hesitancy vibrating in his voice as he spoke. ”Yeon…Pardon me?” His confusion was slowly becoming Beomgyu’s very own as well.

”What do you mean pardon?” Beomgyu scratched the back of his head, he was sure that this man was his best friend Yeonjun and not someone he had mistaken. 

”Yeonjun, can you be serious for one second, what are we doing here?” He snapped, noticing the way Yeonjun was looking him up and down with uncertainty.

Beomgyu checked his clothing quickly, confirming his suspicion. He was also wearing elegant pieces that resembled the ones of his friend. Only then did he realize the weight of the mask resting upon his nose. His hand reached upwards, fingertips running along its curves.

”And why are you wearing these clothes? Let’s take it off!” He started pulling the first buttons of his shirt open, causing the friend to panic as he grabbed Beomgyu’s hands at the speed of light. Confusion swirled in his dark eyes.

”You must have lost your wits, my friend, I am Mercutio! Don’t tell me you have forgotten. Did someone poison you?” Yeonjun, or should he say Mercutio? Brought him closer to inspect if he had any injuries. Beomgyu had a hard time keeping his jaw up as he watched his friend act like he wouldn’t usually laugh with joy whenever he was in misery. Yeonjun’s brows were scrunched in worry as his hands gently tapped his cheeks.

”You appear unaffected, though…” The older man continued to murmur through his pouting lips to himself, and that itself confirmed Beomgyu’s conclusion that all of this was a dream.

It was the first time that the boy woke up in a dream. There was an odd feeling in his body that he couldn’t quite pinpoint, and the more he pondered on it, the harder it became to put his finger on it. But for some reason, he accepted the circumstances pretty quickly. It wasn’t so out of pocket for a dream to be ridiculous, hence, he’d had crazier dreams than this, so why not go with the flow? 

“I apologize?” Beomgyu tried his luck with the words. Although they were studying about the Renaissance at university, he had no clue about how they used to speak at that time.

“I could not fight my eagerness, friend.” Cheeks meeting his eyes, Beomgyu reassured him. Relief replaced immediately Mercutio's previous worry like it had never been there, laughing knowingly and pulling him along to wherever they had been destined.

Music and cheerful chatter from afar danced in the nightly air, the boy could spot a grand castle-like building in the distance. The place emitted a warm light and an inviting aura that called for him.

As they went on, the only thing Beomgyu had discovered was how they were not supposed to enter this masquerade behind the walls facing them. It wasn't a simple, you're not invited. But a pretty serious risk for trouble. And yet, his friend charmed the guards with his convincing acting, successfully fooling them into allowing them to enter. Well, it seemed like Yeonjun still had some of his actual traits despite acting like a madman just a few moments ago. 

The main event started just as the two young men had made their way in. Beomgyu’s lips parted in shock at the amount of people roaming the hall. This wasn’t just any party, he realized, it was a whole ball. The women were dressed ever so beautifully, each gently targeting their man of interest with a mere gaze through their masks, hoping that they would come to sweep them off their feet.

“Welcome Gentlemen!” A man whom Beomgyu understood couldn’t be anyone but the lord of the house, warmly saluted his guests, shaking their hands heartily. “Come in! Come in!” He waved Beomgyu and his friends in, not having the tiniest suspicion upon seeing these masked youths enter his party. His mood seemed to have touched the stars as he gladly spoke to everyone.

“Who is that?” Beomgyu carefully whispered to Yeonjun, not knowing what answer he was expecting. His gaze was too busy scanning the hectic crowd to even see the deflated shoulders and exasperated gaze of Mercutio.

“What query is this?” He reprimanded, “Do not feign ignorance of the visage of a Capulet, Romeo."

Capulet.

Wait, Romeo?

His head whipped to look at his friend. Eyes wide, struggling to keep himself up.

“Is my name Romeo?” Beomgyu spoke a little too loud, earning a few looks from around. He couldn’t explain the sudden sense of fear in the revelation. It was just a dream after all. A really stupid one at that. Why the hell would he dream about being Romeo? Had Mr. Kim shoveled this Romeo and Juliet agenda so far down his throat that he ended up dreaming about it?

Mercutio sent daggers through his eyes, warning him to keep quiet.

“Have you taken leave of your senses, my friend?!” He yelled in hushed tones. “Do not reveal yourself like that! Be vigilant for Tybalt and hush.” With a shake of his head, Mercutio averted his gaze back to the Capulet patriarch who was currently inviting every lady to dance without a worry in the world.

“My ladies, it would be a delight to see you dancing! Only those girls with corns at their feet will say no! Do not shy away, may all of you please yourselves with this dance!” Capulet exclaimed, animatedly speaking with his hands, throwing them up in the air. His delighted laughter echoed against the stone walls as he with glistening eyes signaled the musicians to start playing. 

Let the party begin. 

Beomgyu watched his “friends” adjust their masks, nodding at each other knowingly, not forgetting to acknowledge him as well before they all dispersed themselves into the crowd with the plan of enjoying themselves. 

And that was how he found himself leaning against the wall by himself, slightly shivering at its low temperature. His gaze wandered along the surroundings. The warm fairy lights, the extravagant ball gowns. Women wearing shy expressions whilst putting their hands in another man’s palm. While others smiled like they had been waiting their whole life for this occasion and dragged their men to the dance floor. Despite his confusion as to why he was dreaming of such specific happenings, it still was an amusing sight to see how people in the old ages seemed to act just like today’s young people did.

Rather than dreaming so vividly, Beomgyu felt like he was watching a story unfold right in front of him. 

Beomgyu’s long train of thought was cut by the jump that his heart made to his throat as a certain someone entered his field of view. There she was, dancing in the arms of a man unknown to him, but at that moment, it didn’t matter who was accompanying her. Beomgyu’s lips fell apart as he drank in her movements that were light as though a floating feather. The white dress hugging her chest fell like the most breathtaking waterfall down to her feet, fluttering behind her as she danced across the floor. The tiara on her head glittered like stars scattered over her hair and at that moment, the young man couldn’t be more sure of this being a dream.

There she was.

 He didn’t even have to ask to know who the ethereal woman was.

Juliet.

Little did he know, that wasn’t Juliet.

The same way that he wasn’t Romeo.

That was you. 

An unknown force surged within him, a newfound resolution. And before he was even aware of what he was doing, his body was already pushing through the dancing crowd to get to you. His mind was in a haze as he chased you who moved like a fairytale. There was an urge in his movements, almost like you’d disappear if he’d be even a second too late. Beomgyu could barely recognize himself, it was as if a part of Romeo had rooted itself within him. It seemed like he’d be sharing every emotion, every thought of the youth in love tonight.

His heart was drumming relentlessly against his chest, asking to be set free as he extended his arm out, successfully grabbing your soft hand. A gasp came from your lips as Beomgyu spun you into his arms. Chest rising and deflating in heavy breaths, the young man looked almost desperate as he searched for your gaze.

Was I in love before? My eyes convinced me not, since I never realized what true beauty is before tonight. Romeo’s words echoed in Beomgyu’s head as if they were his very own thoughts, but he shook them away whilst taking you to a less crowded space. 

“Beomgyu?” He heard your voice for the first time since he saw you, and its sound grounded him in the chaos of this ridiculous dream.

“Why are you in my dream?” The question had the young man halt in his steps, spinning on the balls of his feet to see your genuinely confused frown.

“What do you mean by your dream?” Beomgyu cocked a brow, feeling how Romeo’s overwhelming emotions were finally being suppressed by his usual self.

“This is my dream, I can be here all I want.”

You shook your head, for a short moment drawing his gaze to the sparkling tiara on your head. “I was here first.” You deadpanned, only to see Beomgyu’s face fall in disbelief. 

“There is no such thing in a dream, what the hell are you talking about?” The boy felt his frustration rise, but so did you upon hearing his tone. 

“Woah,” you breathed out, crossing your arms. “You’re still an asshole despite this being a dream.”  

Beomgyu’s lips pressed into a thin line at your statement, he couldn’t find any words to defend himself.

“Look,” you sighed, ending the short silence before it could become heavier.

“I don’t know why I’m having you in my dream but please leave, go your own way, I don’t care.” Your fingers slowly went to hug your body as you averted your gaze away. “I just want to continue this dream for as long as I can, let me be Juliet in peace and we won’t have any more problems.” Although you hadn’t let anything on, Beomgyu could still spot the hurt in your voice as you begged him to leave and it put an unexplainable weight on his chest.

The pain in your voice was an ancient one. 

He should have wanted to leave, but inexplicably, he found himself unable to take even a single step away from you. Beomgyu was unsure if it was Romeo once again plaguing him with his emotions or if he was starting to lose his mind. Because what he said next caught him off guard, just as much as the previous thoughts had.

“But I am Romeo.”

You looked at him from underneath your lashes, arms falling limply to your sides.

“No, you’re not.” You said weakly, dejected. The insistence on rejecting him felt all too familiar, flashbacks of the past clouded his head for a second and he felt dread shroud his being. 

The young man insisted, "Yes, I am. And you're Juliet," as he nodded at you. What was he trying to prove? He didn't know. Was he attempting to prolong the conversation with you? Perhaps, but the reason behind it eluded him. Despite his confusion, something about this entire experience felt authentic. It couldn't have been a mere coincidence that the two of you met in this dream as the two youths in love.

“It doesn’t matter-“ You were ready to turn around, and seeing your back about to face him made a sense of panic tighten his chest. 

“Isn’t it odd though?” He interjected before you could completely face away from him.

You halted your movements with a frown, silently telling him to go on.

“Why are we, out of all people, meeting here, in these specific circumstances?”

“Where are you getting with this, Beomgyu, what is it to you? I don’t get it.” You tried to dismiss his words, although they had already found their way under your skin quicker than you’d liked.

Lips pressed together, his eyes chasing your gaze. It was almost as if he was thinking out loud. "I'm sorry," he murmured with a shaky voice. "I didn't mean to start on the wrong foot. I..." He ran his fingers through his hair, a familiar gesture you've seen him do for years. You could see his frustration growing. Beomgyu seemed to be struggling with something, and it was starting to show. The resolve he had held onto for so long was starting to crumble, and he realized just how exhausted he was to pretend.

To pretend like he hated you.

The longer he took you in, the more he felt himself slip like sand through the cracks of his hands.

He did miss you. And this was just a dream, anyway.

So it wouldn't hurt to act however he- Romeo felt like, right?

He drew in a deep breath before pronouncing the words that were dancing just on the top of his tongue, words that he had been holding back since the very second he'd seen you in the dancing crowd.

"Can we just forget everything between us, and let whatever this is…continue?" His head hung low like the hope in his heart, expecting a harsh rejection. He wouldn't blame you, he was making no sense. One second he was raging against you and the next he was begging you to let him stay with you. Maybe he was out of his mind, but for some reason as he looked at you, nothing mattered. You were the most beautiful creature God created and the reason for his life-

"Okay," your gentle voice cut through, and the boy jolted with joy at the positive response. Your shimmering eyes showed surrender, the twinkle of someone who did not want to fight.

Your gazes locked for a few moments, the silence thick and uncertain. Beomgyu's cheeks dusted an embarrassed shade of pink as he left your eyes to look elsewhere.

"So what now?" A nervous laugh spilled from his lips.

You murmured to him, "You have to say your lines." making him almost bashful underneath your unwavering stare. You knew it was rude to stare, but there was no way you couldn't be savoring this moment.

"Huh?"

"You have to let the Romeo within you speak, only that way, the story can continue." Having been within this dream longer, you had already figured its system out. You had expected the boy to look at you with confusion, but he surprised you when he nodded with determination. 

Letting his eyelids fall shut, he took a deep breath and opened the doors of his heart to the youth whose love was like a burning rose- beautiful and passionate.

A gasp left his lips at the sudden wildfire spreading in his chest. Eyes fluttering open, he hastily walked up to you. Romeo's urgency ran through his veins as he desperately took your hands in his. The light in Beomgyu's eyes had changed, his eyebrows bent in pain as he searched for your gaze but only found uncertainty and worry. He quickly withdrew his hands from yours, causing you to miss the comforting warmth of his touch.

“I fear I’ve defiled your hands, which are like a holy shrine to me, by touching them with my own unworthy hands.” From his eyes dropped honey as he took you in, lips tenderly speaking to your heart. Your heart pounded furiously in your chest, its rhythmic thumping echoing in your ears. You couldn't tell if it was your heart or Juliet's that was racing at breakneck speed. The emotions that surged within you were like nothing you had ever felt before, a mixture of fear, excitement, and uncertainty that left your throat feeling tight. You were lost in Beomgyu's captivating gaze, his deep brown eyes like vast oceans that threatened to swallow you whole. For a moment, you forgot where you were and who you were with, lost in a universe of your own. Breaking your long eye contact, you hastily spun around, allowing the young man to only face your back. 

As you stared into the starry night, you were slowly understanding the depth of this love, a love you’ve always deemed so unreal. But as you donned the young woman’s clothes, you couldn’t help but hope that this could end in a different way than it was destined to.

Despite you turning your back, the enamored young Romeo was not easily discouraged. You heard him move closer, the sweet scent of his skin caressing your senses as he leaned over your shoulder, lips brushing against your ear as he murmured;

“But I have an agreeable way to make it up to you. My lips are ready to smooth over that rough touch with a tender kiss, like two devoted pilgrims before a holy place.”

It felt as if you’d grown a second heart swelling with excitement behind your ribcage, yearning to let its wings soar. At that point, it was hard to tell if the eager butterflies fluttering their wings and dancing in your belly were your own or Juliet's. But it didn’t matter, you realized. You wanted to savor every moment, you wanted every instant to etch itself into your memory so that you could rewatch it in eternity. With hasty movements, you faced him again, not missing the way his face lit up.

”Good worshiper, you’re too harsh on your own hand,” Beomgyu watched with devotion as you picked his wrist up, and with your other hand ran the tips of your fingers along his own, aligning them until his palm was softly kissing yours. 

”as it shows a perfectly polite devotion by holding mine.” You let your gaze meet his.

”After all, pilgrims touch the hands of saints, and the hands kiss when their palms are brought together.” You breathed, in your mind tracing the silver lines of the moon illuminating Beomgyu’s features, adoring the sweet shadow that his long lashes cast down his blushing cheeks.

The male stepped closer, your kissing palms now between your chests pressing against one another, a soft breeze brushed through the long, brown locks caressing his neck.

”Yes, but don’t the saints and the worshipers have lips, too?” He curled a brow, searching for your gaze, but your eyes shied away as you settled for your intertwined hands.

”Yes, pilgrim,” you swallowed, still looking down, ”lips that they should use for prayer.”

Beomgyu’s hand left yours, and for a moment you felt your heart drop. Until his fingers soon eagerly returned to caress your rosy cheek.

”Well then, dear saint, let our lips do what our hands are doing.” His palm finally embraced your face, the pad of his thumb softly rubbing back and forth the surface of your skin. ”They’re praying for something after all, a kiss, so their faith doesn’t turn into despair.” Daringly, he lifted your chin so you could meet his gaze. Your heart raced as you whispered your response.” Saints don’t act first,” Your eyes drifted from his gaze, down the tall bridge of his nose, and onto his plush lips, despite the words that threatened to escape your throat. 

"Although they may respond to prayers." It was as if the both of you had been cast under a spell. The most beautiful spell known to man, completely immersed in the addictive sweetness of this love, neither of you wanted to pull away.

Eyes hooding, threatening to fall shut at any moment. It was the effect of the powdery scent deriving from the whole of you. A wish to be wrapped up in it ignited within him. Beomgyu had barely noticed how minimal the distance between you had become. His lips were hovering over yours, breaths mingling into one single source of air.

”Then don’t move while I get my prayers answered.” Beomgyu breathed before his pillows landed between yours, a sweetness spreading on your palate reminding the inner Juliet of the delight of honey and milk. He sighed with relief when your lips responded to his as if this kiss had truly saved your faith from turning into despair. As if your lips had saved him from a lifelong agony.

Your lips detached slowly and hesitantly, only letting go for the sake of your lungs.

”Now all the sin has been purged from my lips thanks to yours.” A sweet smile that he couldn’t hold back spread on his lips as his orbs traced the beauty of your face. What kind of blessed dream was this, to have Beomgyu looking at you like that?

You couldn’t resist the contagiousness of his joy. ”Then that sin has passed from your lips to mine.” You beamed.

”A sin from my lips?” He repeated with feigned shock, a sweet laugh hearable in his timbre. ”Oh what a sweetly suggested trespass! Give it back to me.” His lips crashed once again upon yours, hands cradling your cheeks as his mouth gently parted yours.

”You kiss by the book.” You said through your slightly swollen lips, eyes smiling behind your cheeks. He chuckled breathily. Both of you had forgotten who you truly were.

”Juliet! Juliet!!” A woman’s voice called for you, and it took you a while before you realized that you had to react. Realization seemed to dawn on Beomgyu as well as the smile dissipated from his lips, the honey in his eyes replaced by confusion and you felt your heart break a little. 

”What did we just-”

”I have to go,” You didn’t let him finish his sentence, telling yourself that it was because you had to flee the scene for the story to proceed. Deep down knowing that you were protecting your heart from a pain you had sworn you wouldn’t ever feel again because you and Beomgyu were over. But that was in real life, so why was that expression of Beomgyu’s following you even in this seemingly sweet dream?

A bitter laugh rang into the summer night as you started running away from the stunned man. So was this a joke? How could you have thought that being Juliet would have brought you anything less than pain?

What a fool you were.

“Juliet!” You heard once again when rounding the corner of the castle. Your best friend Mia appeared, dressed in clothes less refined than yours, still reflecting the fashion of the ancient century. You could imagine that her rank was significantly lower than yours. “I’ve been searching everywhere for you, Lady Juliet.” She gasped, clearly winded from the marathon she must have run whilst looking for you. You were insecure about how to reply, not quite sure of which character she was supposed to fulfill. If you and Beomgyu were the star crossed-lovers, then perhaps she was…?

“Come with me! Your curfew has long passed, we must hasten!” Mia urged her voice a loud whisper that still managed to echo slightly against the stony walls surrounding you. Gently grabbing your wrist, she propelled you forward with a force unexpected for a tiny girl like her. With brisk steps, the two of you walked down a stone path leading to a hidden passage.

“Who might you be, pardon my question?” 

The young woman halted her stride abruptly, long hair flowing down her back as she turned to cast you with an incredulous gaze. “Have you lost your wits entirely to that Romeo?” she exclaimed. “I warned you he was unsuitable for you, my lady!” She surely knew her stuff, you noted, and was pretty opinionated as well. But that was nothing short of Mia. You couldn’t help the tiny smile that was etched onto your face. Her presence brought you an infinite amount of comfort.

“I can sense our dear friendship, but forgive that I cannot quite recall…” You inquired once more, sporting a playful pout on your rosy lips. The young woman’s shoulders visibly sagged with surrender as she took a small step to face you fully.

“I am your faithful Nurse, my lady,” she replied with a slight curtsey, her expression softening with affection. "M'lady, your forgetfulness after meeting with that gentleman truly wounds me." She sniffed and adverted her gaze elsewhere, something she’d usually do when she feigned anger in your regards. The soft moonlight danced on her pretty cheeks and you couldn’t help but note how this era flattered her ancient beauty.

“Please, let us retreat to my chamber, there I’ll tell you all about my encounter with Romeo.” If you knew your best friend, then you were sure that there was no better bait than her favorite topic; love. She was judgemental of Romeo but deep down, you knew that she would devour any details of your faithful encounter with the lad. Not that you were enthusiastic about recalling it, for reasons all too clear.

You watched as Mia’s eyes widened with joy and excitement, her hands coming together into a thankful hold. Cheeks meeting her sparkling irises into the biggest smile you’d ever witnessed. You knew you had won her over. 

***

A few hours had gone since your Nurse had left your room. She’d squealed like a tiny hamster and kicked her feet like a high-school girl upon hearing what had happened between you and Beom…Romeo, as if she hadn’t completely regarded him as unsuitable just a few minutes prior. But you weren’t a bit surprised, she was a known sucker for romance. But perhaps, you were a little too.

Now that she was gone though, you found yourself completely unable to unwind.

You had spent the entire night, wide-eyed, watching the moonlight caress the walls of your room, until it slowly gave way to the warm hues of daylight. You had lost track of the countless sunsets and sunrises that had passed since you made your escape from the scene a few days ago. As you sat on the balcony, feeling the sweet breeze on your skin, you couldn't help but ponder over the situation. It occurred to you that nothing significant had happened since you left, leaving you wondering if the story had come to a pause until you and Beomgyu met again. You kicked up the hem of your long dress to let the wind cool your warm skin. 

You felt the blood rush to your cheeks as you recalled the insane kiss with Beomgyu. The pressure of the kiss still lingered on top of your lips along with that sweet scent of his that had etched itself onto your memory. His warm fingertips that had caressed your cheeks, his lashes tickling your skin. Were dreams truly so vivid?

"That's a big problem," you muttered to yourself as you walked back into the beautiful room you were slowly growing accustomed to. You’d never even dared to dream of owning such a priceless chamber, filled with even more valuable furniture. 

Throwing yourself back onto the soft bed, you rolled onto your stomach, feeling the weight of your worries pressing down on your chest. You hugged the nearest pillow to yourself, hoping it would somehow alleviate the ache in your heart. You couldn't help but let the worst thoughts cloud your mind as time passed, yet seemed so sickeningly still. A muffled scream vibrated against the lavish fabric of the pillow now pressed against your face, a desperate attempt to release the pent-up anxiousness and frustration you felt. Your feet kicked against the mattress. Would Beomgyu think less of you now? Would he even want to see you again after such a…kiss? The questions swirled around in your head, taunting you with their uncertainty.“Romeo…” You sighed slowly, “Beomgyu out of all, why did you have to be Romeo…” You complained only to be met by silence.

“Ngh-” A sudden grunt deriving from the balcony had you scramble up from your past position with haste. Hair disheveled, Beomgyu had one leg over the railing of your balcony. The dagger hanging around his waist crinkled as he landed with a thump. His shirt was slightly scrunched up and you thought you saw a leaf tangled in his soft locks before you got distracted by his voice when he puffed out his next words.

“Why the hell are there so many guards around here?!” He huffed, dusting his pants. He was standing by the big opening of your room, the long curtains by your windows fluttering him welcome along the dancing breeze. 

As if your legs had given out, you couldn't find any strength to step off the bed as you incredulously took in the very man who had been keeping you up for consecutive nights.

“Beomgyu?” Your voice faltered. It felt unreal to see Beomgyu standing there. Did his visit mean he wasn't mad or bothered by the kiss? The young man seemed unbothered as he coyly welcomed himself into your chamber, sitting himself down on your bed with a deep sigh and sprawling his tired legs before him. “hmm,” He hummed hoarsely, his arms extended behind him as he leaned his head back. Staring up at the endless details of your painted ceiling made him feel dizzy. 

He was avoiding your gaze, you noted. The silence was thick and the slight tensing of his jaw told you that he was also battling an inner turmoil. Perhaps that matter was better off unsolved, you told yourself. It wasn’t your true self acting that night anyway. 

Yes, you concluded. It was better this way. The weight lifted itself off your chest.

Just as your lips were about to part with a sigh, breaking the heavy silence, the young man beat you to it. “We’ve been stuck here for days,” Beomgyu remarked, his gaze still fixed on the celestial ceiling. You pressed your lips together, silently concurring as you nodded. Fidgeting with the delicate lace of your dress, you missed the glance Beomgyu stole at you.

“If we don’t do something soon, I fear the story will remain frozen in time,” your voice whispered gently, tip-toeing through the air to reach his ears, “forever.” Finally, your eyes met his, locking in a silent pact of understanding. Something suddenly flickered in his gaze, a dreadful kind of realization that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“What if the fastest way to get out of here is to…” Beomgyu’s voice came out delicate and uneasy, fading into the sentence as he feared his own words. Swallowing thickly, he parted his lips again. “Die, the way Romeo and Juliet did.”

Your breath caught as the implication sank in.

Mouth agape and trembling, unable to say anything for a while.

“We have to die…” You repeated with disbelief, albeit agreeingly as you recalled the tragic ending of the star-crossed lovers. 

Beomgyu nodded, his expression solemn. "It's the only way I can think of. Maybe... maybe that's what the dream wants. Closure. An ending."

Your heart plummeted into the pit of your stomach at the thought, but there was a deviant sense of inevitability settling over you. "But... what happens after? What if we can't wake up?"

The boy could only find it in himself to lift his shoulders in a sincere shrug. 

“I can’t say,” He confessed thoughtfully. “It’s a scary thought, I understand if you don’t want to try this solution-”

“No,” In opposition to the doubt that had started seeping into his voice, you felt the determination swarm your chest as you suddenly rose to your feet.

“We’ll do it.” You interjected firmly. Beomgyu watched you wide-eyed, skin tingling as you gently took his hand in yours, pulling him up towards you. Having lost Beomgyu that faithful day, you were pretty sure that you’d already lost everything. You had nothing else at risk. It was all just a bittersweet dream after all. None of this was real.

He seemed to have lost his tongue, or perhaps he had lost himself in your gaze, his ears ringing with his very own heartbeat.

“Are you sure?” In his warm irises danced small flickers of concern and admiration. The underlying fear in his deep timbre comforted you. This was the most the two of you had ever talked in years. The lack of hostility felt unfamiliar, but a rare gift. You wished to never forget the soft expression on his features and the concern he was mustering towards you.

Perhaps, somewhere in his heart, he did still care for you.

“I’m sure,” your unwavering determination had the corner of his lips lift, a small, barely noticeable smile. A glimmer of hope twinkled in his eyes. In reality, your head was spinning and the fear was consuming you from the inside. But you wouldn’t back away. "If this is what it takes to break free from this endless cycle, then we have to try," you affirmed. 

"Alright," he whispered, his fingers tightening around yours in a silent promise. "Together, then." You nodded, egging him to go on. 

The air was thick with anticipation, the echoes of your impending fate whispering through the stillness.

Beomgyu's voice was steady as he spoke. "My dearest Juliet, if this be our destiny, then let us meet it with courage and love."

Your breath caught in your throat as you met his gaze, the depth of his brown eyes reflecting the same fear and determination swimming in yours. "My sweet Romeo, together in life and death, our love shall transcend even the boundaries of this dream." You breathed out.

The youth nodded with a sense of grief etching onto the strings of his heart. Bringing your trembling fingers to his wavering lips, he pressed them against your cool skin and closed his eyes. "Farewell, my love," he murmured against your hand. 

A shudder left your mouth as you echoed his broken words, and Juliet’s tears welled up in your eyes.

“Farewell, my dearest,” You spoke barely above a whisper, a gentle hand reached for the apple of his cheek where the dampness of the summer heat lingered. Your thumb left tender strokes on the surface of his skin. Your feet slowly rose onto your toes, noses grazing and eyelashes tickling each other's cheeks. Brushing your lips against his for the last time.

A feather-light pressure on his pillows transcended into something deeper, more beautiful when he parted his lips slowly against yours. Agony and comfort were all you could taste. Your heart ached when you parted. Beomgyu’s eyes remained closed as a pained expression contorted his brows. "Together, my love," he reminded, perhaps to give himself more courage as he reached for the side of your hair, taking out the sharp jewelry that had been holding your locks up. Hair cascading softly onto your shoulders, you reached out for the dagger that had been hanging by his waist. Taking a deep, shaky breath, you nodded once more. Directing it towards your stomach.

Your breath got lost in your lungs as you pushed the dagger further, edges puncturing through your body. With your eyes squeezed shut, you dreaded for the pain to settle. The thick silence only offered the rhythm of your staggering breaths, until the noise of something cracking pierced through the air. Looking down hastily, you witnessed the surreal view of the dagger in your hands shattering into millions of glistening fragments. They faded into thin air. Your eyes hurried to meet Beomgyu’s, only to find him as shaken as you, with his hands void of any sharp object.

At that moment, the inexplicable occurrence bound you both in a shared bewilderment as you both realized something;

It wasn’t over yet.

Not like that.

You parted your lips to say something, but the words got stuck in your throat. What had just occurred? It was almost as if the story was stopping you from undergoing the painful death.

“Did…Did we do it the wrong way?” You wondered out loud, perplexed. “Is it because we didn’t drink poison like in the original script-” Beomgyu cut you off with a shake of his head, arms falling limply by his sides. 

“No, I frankly don’t think that’s it. The premise was dying together and that’s what we tried,” The unreadable expression in his eyes told you that he too, was short of solutions and explanations. “But we can’t give up yet,” He declared softly, an ancient determination that you knew all too well flickered in his irises. “there has to be another way.” His stubborn nature reminded you of the past you shared, sending your heart into a frenzy. You recalled blaming him for years, for changing and leaving you behind, but as you stood before each other, you were met by a Beomgyu who continuously nurtured the nostalgia that had been swimming in your chest since the very moment he’d caught your hand in the dancing crowd.

Your gaze softened upon him.

Your heart echoed his sentiments, the flicker of hope igniting within you. "You're right," you replied, your voice steady despite the turmoil swirling inside. "We need to find a better ending, one where we both survive."

A better ending, one where you both would survive…

With a sudden gasp, you grasped his hands, catching him off guard. Beomgyu stumbled slightly, his eyes widening with surprise and curiosity at your sudden fervor.

"Of course!" you exclaimed with a new sense of excitement pulsing through your veins. "Why didn't I think of this before?" Your fingers tightened around his, the connection sparking a newfound determination within you. Disregarding his perplexity, you continued with a rush of energy taking the both of you by storm.

"Maybe the solution isn't to reenact the tragic ending," you presented, your voice gaining strength with each word. "Perhaps it's about forging a new path, creating a different outcome."

You allowed your words to linger shortly, seeking for his gaze, which still seemed hesitant. "Don’t you see, Beomgyu?" you persisted. "The story is telling  us to rewrite Romeo and Juliet's fate, just like Mr. Kim's dumb assignment!" There was a hint of laughter in your tone, a flicker of amusement amidst the seriousness of the moment, as the realization slowly dawned on both of you. Beomgyu’s lips gradually fell apart at the revelation, every doubt suddenly falling back into place.

“Let’s split up for now, I’ll talk to Mercutio,” Beomgyu suggested to which you nodded fervently, already knowing what to do. “I’ll see you here at dawn.” You completed his sentence. And just like that, he was out of your field of view, the last image of him being his silhouette skillfully jumping over the balcony.

It was a silent agreement to find out more about the conflict between the two families, each to their own. Only then, could you find a true solution?

Sure, you knew that the Capulet and Montague families had an ancient feud that pulled the youths apart from each other. But…what exactly had happened?

Without wasting another second, you spun on the balls of your feet and hurried out of your room, for the first time in days, facing the hustle of the busy castle. “Mia,” You mumbled to yourself, “I need to find Mia…” The heels of your sandals clicked against the marble steps as you rushed your way through the endless corridors. Rounding a corner, you almost collided with a servant carrying a tray of food.

“I apologize, M’lady.” The servant quickly bowed their head low before scurrying away. You stood still for a moment, taken aback but quickly blinked away the slight shock and resumed your search. Your mind raced with thoughts of finding your best friend.

Weaving through the maze-like castle, you almost feared losing your way. You felt like you’d rounded the same corner at least ten times. But perhaps your determination did not deem itself unfruitful when you caught a glimpse of her bustling about in the servant’s quarters. Relief washed over you and you picked up your pace further, calling for her. “Mia- Nurse!”

The young lady whipped around with startle in her movements. Her eyes were wide with shock but upon seeing you, a familiar warmth shaped itself into her soft smile.

“Lady Juliet!” She exclaimed, “What brings you here?”

Coming to a halt in front of her, you breathlessly said; “I need to talk to you,” ignoring the confusion that swarmed her eyes at your unusual language, the rush in your veins was making you forget all about how Juliet was supposed to act. Nonetheless, the girl nodded understandingly and gave you her attention.

“Do speak your worries, m’lady. I am at your service.” You sighed with relief and took her hand, walking further inside her quarter, and closing the door behind you. 

“Nurse…Why can’t I and Romeo be together?” You initiated, struggling to find the right words. The young woman watched you with perplexed eyes. “You know full well the reasons, m’lady.” Mia’s knowing gaze weighed upon you, you noted how her voice was soft and solemn as she spoke, as though not to hurt your fragile feelings.

You shook your head stubbornly. “No! I really do not!” As your voice raised ever so slightly, you noticed the slight panic contorting her features and you immediately calmed down.

“I just…I love him so much,” You felt breathless, as the words slipped past your lips, a strange rush of vulnerability crashed upon you. Mia’s eyes locked with yours but you found yourself relentlessly avoiding her gaze. The feelings falling from your lips were Juliet’s and hers alone. But then why did it feel like your heart had been laid bare for the whole world to see?

You gulped, “I understand the feud of our families, but I need to know what happened!” You urged, hoping that you would be able to find answers. “What could possibly have been the cause of such a lifelong resentment? Why do I have to pay the price of my love because of an ancient conflict that…” the words spilled past your quivering lips, it was almost like you had no control over what left your mouth. These overwhelming emotions were too big for your heart to bear. “That doesn’t involve me!?” You implored.

Mia’s gaze softened, shoulders sinking slightly as she gently took your cold hands into her warm ones. Her touch was so tangible that you almost forgot that all of this wasn’t anything other than a dream.

“Oh sweet Y/n, but it does involve you.” Your throat suddenly felt extremely, a shiver running down your spine. “W-what?” Your voice trembled when you met her unfazed eyes. Had she just called you by your name? 

“The day that you have mourned for so long, it was you who left him,” Mia explained calmly, though the words became nothing but a swirling mess in your head. “What are you talking about?” You inquired, pulling your hands out of her grasp. Uneasiness settled within you at the direction that the conversation was taking.

“You and Beomgyu are now strangers because you turned your back on him, that day.” Her sentence pierced through your throbbing heart, a sense of injustice had you shaking your head furiously.

“How…How can you say that I left him when he was the one who denied knowing me in front of others?!” You cried out, throwing your hands in the air. “He was the one who ended our friendship at that very moment.” 

You recalled the scene vividly. The pain of that day was ingrained so deeply within your memory, that sometimes the cuts it left still felt fresh. It had been just another exhausting day of classes but nonetheless, you had been eager to meet up with your best friend at your usual spot. But as you had rounded the corner your anticipation had quickly morphed into shock. With your breath caught in your throat, you witnessed Beomgyu surrounded by people unknown to you. Their expressions taunting and relentless as they held up a photograph in front of Beomgyu’s face. His patience was wearing thin and a scowl was etched permanently onto his face. Something about the scene unsettled you deeply but you had been rooted onto your spot, unable to move.

“Shut up,” Beomgyu had hissed, attempting to rip the photo from their grasp, only igniting laughter from the others when they easily pulled it higher up.

“Why so serious? Don’t you love her anyway? But her mommy hates you, how sad!” The taller male waved the photograph teasingly and laughed in his face.

“I don’t fucking love her!” His voice echoed bitterly in the lonely corridor. You still remembered the way his voice reverberated in your ears, each word a cruel stab to your heart. “We’re merely acquaintances so cut this crap and leave me alone.” Beomgyu’s voice was cold and merciless. You had felt a strong sense of betrayal wash over you, wondering why he was denying your friendship so vehemently. You were hurt and confused, the emotions ever so overwhelming and you struggled to comprehend what had happened.

You recalled his hands curled into tight fists, his chest heaving visibly up and down after he’d gotten them to leave. And then, the moment that would haunt you for years to come happened. He had turned to you, eyes filled with a raw emotion you couldn't decipher. Something had flickered in his gaze, perhaps regret, almost as if he’d woken up from a trance. But the wall that his words had put between you was insurmountable. 

Although your name had come tumbling from his lips, begging you to let him explain, your back had already been turned, heart had already been broken into irreparable pieces.

You looked at Mia, your desperate eyes silently begging her to understand the turmoil inside of you. “I know it wasn’t easy being my friend, especially with my mother making it clear that she didn’t like him. I don’t know why she was so against him, but I never stopped defending him!” You paused to take a breath. “Not for one moment. I put him over my parents' rules and valued his friendship over my parents’ trust. I always sneaked out to see him although I was grounded for that very same reason…” Your words stumbled upon each other in your haste to defend yourself, “So how could you say that I was the one who left him?”

“Y/n,” Mia coaxed gently, eyes fluttering shut was a deep breath. “It mustn’t have been easy on your heart.” She affirmed, bowing her head slightly. “But believe my words, there is more to this tale than you are aware of.” She paused, letting you feel the gravity of her words although you struggled to make sense of it all.

“What do you mean?” Confusion clouded your thoughts, “What do I not know of? Did Beomgyu hide something from me?” Your mind spiraled, but your friend’s sudden grip on your shoulders brought your focus back on her. “Do not fret!” She scolded, her usually sweet eyes now stern as they pierced through yours. “This story goes beyond the two of thy…Your mother and Beomgyu’s father share a history.” Mia carefully unfolded the truth to you. Your arms fell limp to your sides, eyes wide open as the new information sank in. 

“It is so. They used to court each other in their youthful days.” She confirmed your suspicions. “However, they belonged to different realities. Their love was forbidden much like the tale of Romeo and Juliet. Your mother had always been true to her traditions. Attempts  to sort the disagreement between her and her family hadn’t given any fruits, they wouldn’t approve of a relationship with the young Mr. Choi.” 

Your head was spinning.

Mia’s words painted a picture of a past you never knew, shedding light on the hidden truths that had shaped your relationship with Beomgyu since the very beginning. The two of you had only been children when you’d first met. Your cries resounded in the rain storm, a knee scraped open because of your clumsy feet. Beomgyu, one of the many by-passers had heard your wailing from far. 

Not the sweet little bandaid he’d clumsily applied to your injury, not even the umbrella he’d handed you so that you would stop crying could have thawed your mother’s icy resolve. He had walked you home, only to be sent away coldly by your mother. Even so, your friendship continued flowering on the familiar grounds of your school. A part of you had always seen Beomgyu like the knight that helped the princess escape her tower of isolation. He was the sweet breeze under your shirt on a hot summer day. He was the sense of liberation and affection that shrouded you like a warm blanket when in his presence. You’d discovered parts of yourself whilst by his side, that would have forever remained uncovered if you’d listened to your parents' warnings.

“But-” Your voice faltered with disbelief, “Why would my mother put me through her same pain?” A part of you wanted to sympathize with your mother, but the longer you dwelled on it the more you felt yourself lose your mind. The endless fights, the uncountable times they’d punished you for refusing to cut ties with the friend that meant so much to you.

“You see,” Mia hummed, “That is where your mother’s resentment brews, although she points to Beomgyu’s bad influence on you, the truth is another. Beomgyu is a painful reminder of her past. His familiar face reminds her of the one man she truly loved and lost.” Her voice tinged with empathy, “She struggles to cope with her broken heart.” Every utterance was a tiny piece of the vast puzzle that was your life. Each little fragment finding its place but revealing only a frustratingly small detail. Mia's insight kept sinking in but you felt dizzy from the unstoppable rush of thoughts and questions. Your chest brimming with mixed emotions of anger, sadness, and empathy. Running a hand through your hair, you let out the heavy breath that you had been holding in this whole time. 

Your mother’s unwavering disapproval, Beomgyu’s struggle to defend himself, and the rift that had formed between you and your childhood friend. Everything was still a mess in your head, but there was only one thing clear that you just couldn’t shake off. 

Tears blurred your view as the strong sense of clarity washed over you, sending you over the edge.

Shaking eyes searching for Mia’s, nails digging into your palms. “What have I done?” You whispered brokenly, a hand coming to rest on your face as if to stop the intense swirling of your surroundings.

“I- he surely hates me for it, doesn’t he?” You told yourself, “There is no way I can restore our friendship.” no matter how much you tried to find a way, the damage you had done seemed unfathomable. 

Mia’s eyes were solemn when she regarded you, her next phrase with a weight that you couldn’t quite comprehend. “I fear not,” She proved. An ancient sorrow tip toeing in her murmur. Although you had been the one to make the statement, having her confirm it left an unbearable pain tightening your chest.

“For the bonds of your hearts have transcended the mere boundaries of a friendship,” Mia whispered, your forehead creased into a frown. 

"What do you mean?" you pleaded, searching her eyes for clarity, but the young woman merely shook her head. “You haven’t realized it yet, have you?” 

“Realized what?” 

“The words you spoke upon finding me, were no one’s but your own, dear, reflect on that.” Not Juliet’s, but yours. The additions lingered on Mia’s tongue, although she chose not to pronounce them. Your shaken expression weighted her heart.

“I don’t understand.” You let your head fall, the curtain of your hair covering the tears that were now blurring your view.

Your friend placed a tender caress on your cheek, crouching slightly so that you would meet her gaze. “Hey,” She soothed, “Do not despair, dear, there is still time.” her eyebrows raised encouragingly as her hold on your cheeks turned into a light pinch. your cheek, making you wince. “Now go forth, do not waste any more of thy precious time!” Mia exclaimed and stepped behind you, her hands on your back, guiding you onward with a gentle push, sending you off.

Stumbling forward, you couldn’t help but cast one last look back for guidance, only to have her fretting you away with not-so-subtle gestures.

The walk back to your chamber was like stepping into the unknown blindfolded. Your gaze was distant while allowing your feet to guide you back to familiar surroundings. Time was nothing but a blur, you wondered how much time you had spent in Mia’s quarter. The burning sun had bid its farewell to the sky a long time ago. Leaving you solely the moonlight to illuminate your solitary path through the now tranquil castle. The echoes from the daytime’s hustling activity were now replaced by a peaceful quietude. Even the servants had retired for the night.

A gentle timber called your name, and you feared your heart had stopped when you hastily looked up. Your pupils dilated at the view of Beomgyu’s figure walking towards you. A worried expression rested upon his features. 

“What took you so long?” He spoke in hushed tones not to wake anyone up, “I was waiting for you but you never came. I thought something happened to you.”

His concern ignited a tender warmth within you, a flood of emotions brimming in your heart as it picked up its pace in your chest. Racing far ahead of you,  drumming against your ribs begging to be set free from its hostage.

"I... I lost track of time," you managed to say through your trembling lips. "I'm sorry for worrying you."

His expression of worry melted away with the step he took, gently dismissing your apology with a shake of his head. "I'm just relieved you're okay," he confessed, watching you from underneath his lashes. The silver glow of the moon cast a delicate shade down his cheek, while you marveled at the shimmering specks of amber swirling in his eyes.

A moment of silence followed, unspoken words weighing down on your chest.

Beomgyu’s words lingered in the air like a whispered promise, perhaps one made a long time ago. A  glimmer of two youths intertwining their pinkies in a silent vow, sealing the bond with a kiss of their thumbs flickered before your eyes. But just like a sweet dream slipping away at the crack of dawn-  it vanished before you could fully grasp it. 

With your gaze falling to the ground, you struggled to move your voice past your lips. There was so much you wanted to say.

“Beomgyu I…” You began hesitantly, forcing yourself to meet his gentle ocean eyes despite the dry lump forming in your throat. He kept quiet, silently letting you take your time to express yourself. The knowing look painted on his features told you that he’d understand no matter how much you struggled to explain yourself. 

“I am so sorry-” Your voice wavered as a tear traced its way down your cheek. “It’s all my fault.” remorse, a sad melody that had etched itself into your words as tears continued spilling from your eyes, salty and melting into your lips as you continued. 

“I don’t understand why– how I could have walked away like I did, without letting you explain yourself, that day.” Your voice a mere whisper, knuckles whitening under the pressure of your trembling fist. “I should have let you tell me the truth but I let my hurt and anger cloud me…” A trembling shiver left your mouth. “Why did I do that?” 

“I threw away our friendship, I threw away the most important thing I had, I messed up so bad, I-” Before you could continue, Beomgyu’s hand had reached out. Soft fingertips caressing your skin, catching your precious tears. 

“I’m sorry too,” he said softly, his fingers absentmindedly curling around a few strands of your hair. "I should have tried to reach out to you again after that. But I too, let my pride and stubbornness get in the way." his touch was gentle as he slowly guided the stray hairs in his hold behind your ear.

“Do you…” Your hesitation lingered in the air as the question you were afraid to ask danced on your tongue. The fear in your chest fogged your mind. Although this whole journey could have served as an answer, your heart couldn’t find its peace unless he pronounced the words himself.

 “Do you hate me for what I did?”

Beomgyu found himself melting before you, fingers slowly coming to cradle your jaw. His eyes searched yours for a moment before speaking, but your gaze shied away from his. He couldn’t help but admire the way your tears were like small crystals twinkling upon your lashes. 

"Hate you?" His voice brimmed with disbelief. "No, Y/n, never." he tilted your head ever so slightly so that you could meet his gaze, so that you wouldn’t need to doubt him again. He extended a thumb, brushing away another tear that threatened to fall. "Despite what I've told myself over and over again, for years,” A solemn smile curled his lips.

“I don’t think I ever convinced myself when I tried to believe I hated you.” Beomgyu took a small step closer, lacing one arm around your shoulders. It was like you forgot how to breathe when he guided you into his chest, tucking your head into the crook of his neck. Your hands rested upon his chest out of surprise, feeling his thumping heart against your palms and almost confusing his quick heartbeat with your own.

There was something different about the way his arms tightened around you, you sensed fear in his embrace, as if you were to disappear at any moment. As if he was afraid to wake up in the middle of this moment. The sensation of his long hair tickling your skin when he nuzzled his head into your shoulder, the familiar scent of his cologne, and the warmth of his body engulfing you. His regretful murmur when he uttered the sole words that you needed to heal your heart.

“No one could make me hate you.” 

You wished for nothing else than for this to be real.

A sob escaped your lips and you threw your arms around his neck. Beomgyu’s gentle fingertips traced a sweet path down your back, hands finding your waist. Eyes fluttering close and all you could think about was how it felt like his arms were made to embrace you. 

You had finally placed the last puzzle piece into its spot,  you had found the missing pages of your book.

You had fallen back into place.

“I missed you so much,” you whispered, ignoring the way your words muffled against his chest. Despite feeling as close as ever, Beomgyu’s embrace tightened even more, “I missed you too,” his eyes fell shut to the comfort of your hold. 

Nuzzling your face deeper into his chest, the cold air of the castle slowly dissipated, replaced by a warmth that felt oddly familiar against your eyelids– a sensation akin to the gentle embrace of sunlight. Inhaling deeply, you noted the woody and papery scent that danced its way into your senses, wrinkling your nose in response. 

You jerked away from Beomgyu with a sharp gasp, startling both him and yourself. The moonlight that had been adorning his soft features was long gone. Hence the beautiful corridor you’d been standing in was by now only a mirage of your dream as you noticed the book-filled shelves surrounding you in the remote corner of the library, illuminated by the soft glow of late sunlight filtering through dusty windows.

Beomgyu’s expression brimmed with confusion as his eyes darted around, searching for you after realizing that you were back in the university’s library. Shocked, the boy felt his arms go limp, and a loud noise reverberated against the ground. Your attention immediately bolted to the book that had slipped out of Beomgyu’s grasp, landing open on the pavement. The illustration of two ancient lovers dancing in the crowd glittered in the sun.

You wasted no time picking the book up, the adrenaline rush had your fingers trembling as you flipped over a few pages, mouth falling agape at the sight of the star-crossed lovers. Their once blank faces were now vivid with your very own features adorning them. 

“Oh my God-” You breathed incredulously, flipping page after page. Beomgyu could only stand there, watching you as he tried to reason with what he had just experienced. His trance was short-lived, interrupted by you suddenly slamming the book shut. The beetroot color that had crept upon your cheeks piqued his interest.

“What did you see?” Beomgyu inquired with his brow raised inquisitively. But your response came too quickly for his liking.

“NOTHING!” You pressed a bit too defensively, earning a few distant hushes from other visitors. His suspicions were raised upon your secretive behavior “Let me see-” he tried to grab the book but you swung your arm out of his reach. He huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, a displeased pout sporting his lips. You were to be damned for letting your guard down at that moment because the next thing you knew Beomgyu had snatched the book from you. You yelped helplessly and tried to get it back but the long-haired boy was far taller than you.

The sensation of cold sweat coated your body at the thought of Beomgyu finding the pages revealing a portrayal of you and he locked in a tender kiss. A new-found heat rose to your cheeks as your heart went berserk. But the view of him delicately opening the ancient novel to inspect what had made you react in such a way awoke a sense of panic that had you blurting out a sentence you had no idea how to stand for.

“No need to search, I can just show you myself.” The casual tone in your voice baffled you to no end, because your heart was in your throat, threatening to jump out. 

Thankfully, the boy looked away from the book, not yet having found the pages you had been trying to conceal. You could spot the astonishment in his expression caused by the illustrations in the book, and you didn’t blame him, why were your faces painted on those of the lovers’? 

Despite all, his eyes still showed you his interest. “And what exactly are you going to show me?” he raised a brow. Beomgyu’s casual cockiness only fueled a sudden boldness within you. "Let me see," his persistence rang in your ears and before you even knew what you were doing, you had grabbed the collar of his shirt. Pulling him close with a determination you hadn't known you possessed– shutting your eyes tightly, you crashed your lips on top of his. The boy stumbled forward, eyes wide at your sudden action, though his lips had acted on their own as they had responded to yours right away. His soft pillows eagerly nipped on yours for a mere moment before you parted from him, releasing his now wrinkled shirt from your hold. 

“That’s what I saw in the book.” You averted your gaze down to your feet, pressing your lips into a thin line.

A shy pink dusted his cheeks, gaze fastened on you, he could not bring himself to look away. His chest rose with the ragged breaths puffing out of his swollen lips. 

“You kiss by the book,” he gasped incredulously, a cheerful laugh bubbling in his throat. Your head whipped in his direction, tummy fluttering at the familiar words he’d used. You watched him throw his head back in delight as his body shook with laughter, finding yourself getting completely absorbed into the joy that sprouted from him, you couldn’t stop the chuckles that escaped your lips.  

You couldn't help but admire his smile, the way it lit up his entire face, the way his pretty eyes crinkled into twinkling half-moons. It had been so long since you had seen that smile directed towards you, and it made you feel complete.

You had no idea what kind of magic had danced on Mr. Kim’s fingertips when he slid that assignment paper on your desk, with yours and Beomgyu’s names written next to each other in red ink. But it was almost like he’d taken the red threads of your fates and tied them back together after that the two of you had let it come undone.

Now Beomgyu knew, you knew– that dreams were like magic. They appeared, tickled, and sparked a twinkle in your hearts, only to disappear just as quickly as it had appeared.

You had lost each other for so long, but you had finally found each other again under the same dream, under the same stars that had brought the two youths together through a love that transcended every boundary. 

Perhaps your fates had been written by the very same hands. 

Perhaps you were them.

You took his hand in yours, feeling its warmth like the sunset glow, painting you in its vivid colors. 

"I dreamt a dream today," Beomgyu murmured as he threaded his fingers through yours.

 "And so did I." You met his gaze knowingly.

“Well, what was yours?” A sweet smile started to curl his lips.

“That dreamers speak their heart’s truth.”

a/n: ooh my god I finally did it! here it is and I hope you all enjoyed it as much as possible!! I had so much fun writing this and I hope it was just as fun reading! this is probably one of my most dramatic pieces and I had to stop myself while writing and question where all the drama was coming from but duh!! It's literally Romeo and Juliet hello??.

anyway!! I would appreciate your thoughts on it a lot <33 I'm really curious to know how this idea I've had brewing in my head for years came out and is perceived by all of you! do not be shy and pls share your thoughts with me &lt;333

Important disclaimer!

I do not own the story or characters of Romeo and Juliet, full credit to Shakespeare who invented them.

I also used some of the dialogue from the actual script in modern English which I will be linking in this text!

so! if you made it all the way down here, I just want to thank you for sticking with me and for taking the time to read this piece! It means a lot to me. You're amazing<33

much love, p.

taglist: @wave2tyun @binluvsu @shutupheathersorryheatherr @20crowsinahoodie @woncheecks @ur-mother-realnotclickbait @20-cms @endeav0rsb1tch @todosmash @scatterbraincutie @zzhyuu @sweetstraberrybear @deabird @iluvkyo @lunathewritingcat @vivienne2000 @sunny4cast @lun4kazumii @be0mgyusbestie @yjdni @roseyposeylemonsquozey @beomgyuspeach @glossykai

#Beomgyu #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu oneshot #tomorrow x together #beomgyu imagines #txt x reader #txt oneshots #txt imagines #yeonjun #soobin #hueningkai #taehyun #romeo & juliet

[finedinereception]

some details on what im tentatively calling wizard married au- in which betty is here from the start and happily magic married to her equally deranged husband.

past

like canon, betty flees when simon first wears the crown. however, there is no portal to the future this time. she finds somewhere else to stay, and during that time, she begins researching. she can tell that wasnt normal. surely if it had just been simon, he would have shown some symptoms of whatever that breakdown was. it had to have been the crown.

she pours herself into her research. it saves her life, because a few weeks later the bombs drop.

she uses her research to attain magic powers, a la magic betty. like simon, she obtains immortality. however, she loses her sanity the more she uses her magic.

a while after the bombs, she finally meets simon again. by this time hes picked up a travel buddy- marceline. the two of them are relieved and happy to see each other.

the apocalypse ironically saves their relationship.

turns out knowing you and your man are going insane and losing your memories is a pretty sobering, emotional thing to really grasp. it ends up breaking the wall between them, and theyre finally, finally able to begin sorting out the issues in their relationship.

this is an important moment between them. even when they fully lose themselves, it becomes the basis of their future relationship. betty starts doing things for herself, and simon starts paying more attention so he can stop her if she starts focusing too much on him again.

its never easy, but for a while, they get a sort of peace. a surprise family at the end of the world.

simon loses it first. during the night, when marceline is asleep, he tells betty that he has to go. hes held on longer than canon simon thanks to betty being around, but hes finally slipping, and hes worried hes going to hurt marcy. sure, betty could protect her… but shed be expending her own mind if she did so. betty knew this was coming, and they agree.

simon leaves before marcy wakes up, taking nothing but a scrapbook hed been keeping from before the bombs, and the clothes on his back. they should have waited- its something theyll regret in the far, far future. he should have said goodbye. but they didnt think they had the willpower to go through with it if they heard her begging. at the very least, betty is there to offer support.

betty continues to hang out for several more years. she gets to see marceline grow up. marcy can see with every spell that betty is becoming more reckless, more eccentric, more distant.

betty finally loses herself protecting marceline during a vampire hunt. she holds on just long enough to get herself away from marcy.

and she begins to travel. until one day, she finds herself inexplicably drawn to a land of ice.

they dont remember who simon and betty are. all they know is that hes ice king and shes magic queen and they love each other.

Betty Grof/Magic Queen

basically the “main character” of this au lol

she begins using the name “magic princess” when she can no longer remember her old one. it feels right to her. she changes to queen when she and ice king get hitched. she doesnt use the name “ice queen” because she no longer pins her identity to just simon. shes got her own stuff going on. hes part of her life, but not her entire life.

magic queens not around the ice kingdom as often as ice king. she likes to explore and travel! a huge amount of the books on ruins, dungeons, and artifacts were penned by her, from hands on research. shes well known around ooo as somebody who can be dangerous, but is also a very reliable source of information.

shes more “grounded” than ice king. she doesnt remember anything from before the war, or for a while after it. as far as she knows she just spawned on ooo ready to dungeon dive. still, shes better at retaining information, and can read a room better. shes still pretty eccentric, though, and likes showing off.

magic queen was the one who beat the shit out of ash and got his magic carpet. she doesnt remember marcy, but like ice king, finds herself inexplicably drawn to her. so when ash hurts her, it puts him on her shit list.

speaking of, she can hold a grudge. she ends up cursing finn for a while because he beat up ice king based on a misunderstanding.

shes the one who had the idea for a giant library in the ice kingdom. ice king helped with the room layout, and she collected the books.

magic queens doing a lot better mentally than canon betty was. her relationship with ice king has become way more healthy and balanced. shes happily married. she has 53 penguin children. shes been able to chase her dreams, and her work is acclaimed and respected.

shes still a creecher tho. girl is skittering through those dungeons. does a backflip and shoots fireworks into your eyes. she is very bold and loves doing crazy things just to see what happens.

gets her own “i remember you” episode where she takes marcy dungeon diving.

ice king/simon petrikov

stay at home husband now lmfao

but fr. he fully supports magic queen, but hes a pretty forgetful and clumsy guy, so they both agree that he probably shouldnt be dungeon diving with her.

he keeps things stable at home. takes care of the penguins and writes fanfic and plays music in his free time. hes come to really enjoy creative pursuits, even when hes not particularly good at them.

magic queen puts a gun to your head and forces you to read fionna and cake. ice queen (simone) and magic king (benny) if you even care btw.

mq ended up putting a checklist up in the home to make sure ik doesnt forget to take care of himself. eat breakfast you goof

instead of kidnapping princesses, he goes out often to find things mq has mentioned wanting or needing for her research. sometimes he steals them and it gets him in trouble. if hes being a real jerk mq will only step in to take him home. sometimes that man deserved to get his ass whooped.

hes already nicer and more stable to start out with since he has somebody to talk to whos nice to him. people wonder why magic queen sticks around and if you ask her she will get mad. hes funny!!! and sweet!!! also hes canonically caked up.

he wants to be a dad soooo bad. he spoils the penguins.

#adventure time #betty grof #simon petrikov #petrigrof #marceline abadeer #wizard married au #they finally have a healthy and communicative relationship and it only took the end of the world #i have a lot of ideas here… maybe ill write out more if anybody is interested. #partially based on their cuter interactions in elements #the playing with birds scene lives rent free in my head

[lavender-romancer]

Blurry Eyes

Part Two Sebastian Sallow x Reader

You never thought you would see your old love, Sebastian, again. Now that he had returned to your life, you knew the hole in your heart had always been shaped like him.

*°*°•.˜”*°•.˜”*°•.˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”°*

previous part-burden

When you met Sebastian and Ominis you had immediately been intrigued by them. Having no real family of your own you had to attach yourself to someone and couldn't see anyone better than the two Slytherin boys. Whether it was saving beasts or fighting Ashwinders together, you and Sebastian were inseparable. Ominis usually let the two of you go off and do “something stupid” as he always said- content to complete all of his work in the peace and quiet of your absence.

Everyone thought the two of you were some kind of item in whatever capacity that was. But neither of you really considered it at the time, at least in fifth year. You were best friends, going to classes together, studying together and sometimes sneaking out together in search of ancient magic. Even after everything that happened with his Uncle, you stood by him. Sebastian deserved another chance, all of the effort the two of you had put into saving Anne was taken away. It was understandable that he was inconsolable and acted out.

Ominis didn't understand, not in the same way you did. There was always a darkness within Sebastian you didn't shy away from. If anything it made you more drawn to him than Ominis, Ominis was safe and secure. Sebastian… he was chaos, a chaos that you craved the more you got of it, your life became remarkable when you were with him. Your magic may have been more advanced than his, but every time you went somewhere with Sebastian it felt like you might never come back. That you'd go on some kind of adventure, run away and go exploring. It felt like you had nothing to lose when you were together.

Sixth year hit the both of you like a brick wall. As soon as you saw one another after the summer holidays, your eyes seemed to go wide. He was so… different to look at. Not really an immature boy anymore, closer to a man. The whole school year you were just as close, the gossip about the two of you ran around the school as fast as it got back to you. But nothing happened, you were just friends who flirted with each other and spent every day with one another.

Final year was when it all changed, when the two of you kissed after sneaking into the restricted section once again. You were inexplicably happy when you got back to your dormitory, smiling yourself to sleep. But nothing changed, he didn't say anything. Didn't court you or even try to broach the subject. He pulled away, spent more time with his books than you or Ominis. That was how it all ended, a kiss of unrequited love that led you to where you were today.

You had friends, you had a best friend, Ominis, you had potential suitors that you turned down. You had no blood relatives but had a sort of work family that existed without Sebastian Sallow- much to your chagrin. Ominis had kept you relentlessly updated with news of Sebastian as you all grew, for some reason the Gaunt boy knew much too much about everything. He was a bloody oracle at this point, gossiping to his best friend about all the happenings in the Ministry you were too busy to focus on.

Everytime be spoke of Sebastian your heart felt like it might give out, the childless hope your held in your heart was still so strong. What did you want from him? You didn't know who he was now. All you dreamed of was what that look in his would be like, when he finally realised that you could make one another so happy. You could give him everything, the sun and the moon if you had too. But you weren't his, and he wasn't yours. This teenage pipedream born from a crush has controlled too much of your adult life already and you decided enough was enough.

Did you want to be his? Yes. No matter who he was. It was a dumb love, you would do anything to be close to him again but it was destined to fail. You had good days, so many good days that you couldn't be angry. All you could do was pack up the memories you had of him into a box and put it under your bed for safe keeping. You would never see the future of his life except for maybe in a newspaper or through Ominis. But you could exist like that, keep him in a state of sentimentality rather than wishing on him like a shooting star.

From there you moved on, focussed on your work and building your friendships back into being strong. You asked Ominis to talk to someone else about Sebastian and instead normally socialised with him. There was no mention of Sallow in any of your following conversations. It was refreshing, you didn't worry that you'd walk past him at the ministry or somewhere in London because that was alright. He was a man, just a man and you didn't have to sensationalise him like you had been doing for so long. Sebastian couldn't fix everything just like you couldn't for him. You were okay with this.

Every now and then you had nightmares about him dying on the job or had a straying thought about whether he missed you. But mostly you kept Sebastian out of your mind. If you were to move on and allow someone else to be this impactful on your life, perhaps it could truly start without looking backwards at what could have been.

Five years after you had left Hogwarts you were working in the legal department of the Ministry, had your own flat and didn't have to worry about your old best friend.

Everything changed that night when he turned up on your doorstep, you could smell the alcohol on his breath and see the far away look in his eyes. You spoke for barely ten minutes but, after he left everything came back. How you wanted to pull him close to you and protect him from his own demons. Everytime as a teenager you wished he would kiss you and court you like other girls. That he would see you as more than an option. You tried to move on, tried to be with other people but it wasn't right. It had never been right because no matter whose bed you shared you wished it was his.

You ran to your front door, almost pulling the door off it's hinges as you threw it open. Running into the dusk of night you stood in the road and looked around everywhere for him. After a glimpse of him you couldn't believe was real, you needed to touch him-make sure he was real and not another dream.

“Sebastian!” You called out.

The world was spinning, you started running through the mist even though you had no idea what direction he went. You longed to hear his voice, see how his face had changed and how he had grown into his deeper voice. He couldn't look you in the eye before, they were so full of sorrow and all you wanted to do was take all the pain away.

It had been a while. You weren't sure how long but you were cold, your feet bare and cold. It was time to go home and begin the process of forgetting again. Talking to him again brought back every conversation, every quiet moment of teenage awkwardness that you smiled about later. The time that you kissed and how that feeling had never been recreated with anyone since. This feeling of loss that had been eating away at you was only getting worse. Your soul was missing something. He had walked back into your life and through your heart so carelessly. Gave you hope for a life that wasn't real. His eyes, there was so much sadness but also the feeling of comfort and longing. You knew he came to you for a reason and you only wished he had stayed.

You reached your old Victorian style flat and could only think of how Sebastian's influence was all over this house. His favorite colours, things that reminded you of Feldcroft. When you walked back into the drawing room you saw his old school scarf and let out a choked noise. No crying. It was like you had finally been given air and it was slowly being taken away from you again. You rummaged around in a rattan basket on the side table and found some cigarettes and a lighter. It was a habit you were trying to get rid of but you didn't care. At least it might distract you.

Sitting down on your steps outside you leant on the bannister fencing that led to your front door. Only now realising your feet were bleeding. You sighed and lit your cigarette watching how the blood slowly dropped onto the concrete slabs as you held one of your legs over your knee. The burn of the lighter on your finger woke you up from your trance and you swore to yourself before taking a drag. All you wanted, regardless of your success and your freedom, was him. It was pathetic, truly. Completely pathetic. You had your independence, your complete unwavering independence. Not having to worry about being a woman the same way muggles did, you were powerful and good at your job but… it wasn't enough.

When you thought about it, you had spent more days of your life thinking about Sebastian than physically being with him. Your eyes began to well up, why did he come here? Was it just to taunt you or upset you? Had you made the whole thing up to try and construe that he really did love you and wanted to see you? Why were you so obsessed with this man that in reality you no longer knew anything about? It was fucking ridiculous of you to expect some kind of happy ending when most of your feelings about Sebastian were fantasies.

But it didn't matter. No matter how ridiculous it was you felt like you were falling apart from the inside out. Like this had always been here in your mind and all you had been doing was blocking out your feelings rather than dealing with them. He didn't want you, it was clearly some sort of joke. Sebastian always did like a little prank or something, and what better than fucking with you. You hoped he had found what he needed here, that he was happy. But Sebastian wanting you had never been real, not when you were younger and not now. You needed to just forget.

Sebastian was standing in an alley when he heard you scream his name. Lights started turning on in all the buildings surrounding you, people looking out of their windows at the mad woman. He couldn't believe his eyes, you were barefoot and running around trying to find him. As his eyes welled up he rubbed away tears but his eyes were so blurry he couldn't decide if it was a drunken delusion or reality. Sebastian sunk to the floor, it was still quite chilly but he didn't feel it. So numb to everything. As he waited for dawn to approach, he hoped his life would lead to something, that one day he would be a man you deserved.

Perhaps one day colours wouldn't fade out of the world, one day Sebastian would be truly happy. But today was not that day. He sat on the cold ground against a wall and bowed his head, his existence was a joke. When Anne was cursed he often felt like his days of any happiness had ended, like everything in the world was pointless without her being there to experience it. But he met you, he adored you and laughed with you. Life wasn't an endless void, there was hope. But he wasted it. He wasted all of it with his childish ways and pathetic inability to realise where his happiness was coming from.

The sky was slowly turning from gray to a sort of burnt yellow. You were nowhere to be seen and in some ways Sebastian thought that was for the best. The alcohol was really wearing off now and after taking one last deep breath he clumsily apparated back to his house which felt as cold as outside. He had forgotten to lock his door and the gusts of wind sent the door back and forth into the wall. Sebastian groaned, apparation when you weren't fully focussed hurt a ridiculous amount.

He looked up at the state of his ceiling, it was cracked and looked as if it would collapse in the coming months if he didn't fix it. Maybe he would stay here in this spot until it buried him, he couldn't plague your life if he was gone. Or maybe it would make it all the worse for you, a horrific memory of Sebastian drunk on your doorstep being the last. Why couldn't he just stop? Why the fuck did he go and see you so out of his mind?

“Enjoying your floor?” A voice suddenly asked and Sebastian made and terrified sort of scream noise looking over to the armchair where Ominis sat.

“Jesus Christ, Ominis.” Sebastian ran his hands down his face.

“Someone had quite the night, didn't they?” Ominis smirked and Sebastian felt like throwing a book at him.

“She told you then?” Sebastian asked.

“With a ridiculous amount of urgency, she contacted me. Told me a story I was convinced she dreamt about showing up at her doorstep drunk and wide eyed. But apparently it's true.” Ominis held his wand in front of him and stood up.

“Bet you enjoyed that. Me turning into even more of a disaster whilst the two of you are prospering.” Sebastian had some malice in his voice and Ominis shook his head, disappointed.

“You have no idea what she went through the last few years. Not that you cared you see how she was or even-”

“It was better she forgot about me. Last night was… it was a mistake. I shouldn't have done that to her.” He stood up and took a step closer to Ominis but he but his hand up.

“That's close enough, I don't know what you're doing, Sebastian. But you've opened a box you can't simply close. Y/n deserves an end to this chapter of her life at the very least. Stop this pathetic drunkenness with some sort of drug usage. Pull yourself together and end things properly. You were a terrible friend to me but even worse to her.” Ominis scowled at him before turning and leaving, he slammed the door as he left, leaving an audible imprint on Sebastian's mind. He was right, you did deserve more than what he did. But Sebastian had no fucking idea how to display that.

#sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow fluff #sebastian sallow fic #sebastian sallow angst #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x y/n #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy fic #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy characters

[bimrsadler]

could you do an f!reader who is wealthy and actually decides to become patron to the gang, letting them stay at their manor on the outskirts of Saint Denis? she asks for a personal guard in turn, which she asks High Honor Arthur to fill the role of. She's tiny, petite even (like 4'9"-ish) and very femme but with a sharp, elegant tongue.

she likes to hang out with Arthur and show him the wealthy side of life while he shows her the lifestyle of being out in the country. All the tensions and staring of a rich, unmarried lady out with a rugged outlaw of man? Perfect bait. 👀

Fluffy or NSFW or just sexual tension is okay! Feel free to go all kinds of ways with this if you do take the rq, ty!! Love your work!!

Fortune Favors the Bold

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female reader

Word count: 4,600

Warnings/tags: nsft, use of guns/light violence, high honor Arthur, fluff, mutual pining, unprotected piv, dirty talk, size difference, use of pet names

Notes: you gave me a lot to work with anon so I decided to just have fun and make this a longer one, sorry it took a bit but I hope it’s what you were looking for!

Walking around Saint Denis it was hard not to feel eyes on you wherever you went, you were an odd couple after all.

Couple. It wasn’t a word you ever thought you’d use to describe you and Arthur Morgan. Truthfully you weren’t an actual couple; not in the literal sense anyway, but you did enjoy a partnership of sorts and it felt comfortable enough to call him your friend.

As you explored the streets together your differences could not be any clearer, the sun glinted off the gold around your neck while the only gleam on Arthur was off the cold steel of his revolver.

An air of grace and elegance followed you wherever you went, wealth represented in your high end dresses.

The man at your side the complete opposite.

An air of intimidation and ruggedness followed Arthur, worn clothing indicative of his rough lifestyle.

And of everything about him you found yourself inexplicably drawn to, it was the fact that he towered over you that was most alluring.

Being of high status and short stature — you were an easy target. Meeting the Van der Linde gang for the first time was nerve wracking to say the least, knowing that if they wanted to harm you they could in no time.

But the man who introduced himself as Arthur Callahan with the badge on his vest was clearly not a real deputy, and knowing of the Grays and Braithwaites; you weren’t particularly upset at their scheming.

Before Arthur and Dutch could warn you not to tell anyone — you proposed working together instead.

While they were no doubt dangerous criminals, they were more understanding than you expected and most of the gang fun to be around. Leery of you at first, they knew it was advantageous to have someone of your status on their side, and found there was more to you than how you presented on the outside.

While your family was away, you offered the manor as a safe-house for the gang and they gave you Arthur in return. It would take a lot of bold stupidity to make an attempt on you when a man like him was by your side.

It wasn’t unusual to get curious men asking what a woman like you was doing with a man like Arthur, to which you would warn them to mind their own business. And if they were more brash than curious? Well it didn’t take long for them to learn their mistake when Arthur came over.

Not everyone looked at Arthur like he didn’t belong though. Outlaw or not, he was arrestingly attractive; pulling in wandering eyes from the upper and lower class alike.

People always seemed pleasantly surprised at how well mannered he was as well, greeting passerby’s with a hat tip and a “ma’am,” listening to strangers stories and stopping to pet street dogs. Really since you’d met — he was primarily only a threat to those who were a threat to you.

The two of you grew curious about each other, with your lifestyles and upbringings being so different. Everything about the gang was exciting to you and you cautiously wanted to explore it. Arthur had a harder time admitting he was interested in what your side of life had to offer and felt uncomfortable with how foreign it felt.

But you caught him eyeing the beautiful things in your home, letting his fingertips glide along the piano keys, smirking at the expensive weapons mounted and fine whiskies.

It was the art that he took a particular interest in however. He was shy about it at first, gazing at the framed paintings on the walls wanting to know more about them but too nervous to inquire.

So you would stand beside him and tell him the history of it, of the artist, as he stood scratching his beard intently listening.

“Hmm,” he’d mumble dryly — trying to downplay his curiosity but giving himself away by quickly pointing to the one beside it, “and how ’bout this one?”

Arthur never felt fully comfortable in fancier settings but you loved bringing him to dinners and plays with you. When he lost himself in the dishes and dramas meant for the higher class, he fully enjoyed himself.

You never felt at ease in those situations either though, always needing to show a performative smile and appear proper was exhausting. So after the parties you would surprise Arthur by asking him to take you to a saloon or maybe just a stroll in the woods, and he was more than happy to oblige.

Arthur was hesitant when you asked to take trips with him however; worried you didn’t understand what you were getting into.

“No offense Miss but I don’t think ya know what yer askin’.”

“I may be rich but I’m not dumb — Mister.” You said with a sarcastic hiss. “I’d like to learn.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and agreed reluctantly, clearly assuming you would just be deadweight.

But you were a quick learner, and you enjoyed it.

It was exhilarating learning to shoot and skin, and much to Arthur’s surprise you had no qualms about looting with him or being the lookout on a job.

Your favorite nights however were the ones under the stars and beside the crackling fire. You would take the sounds of the slow moving river and rustling pines over the ramblings of relatives whose only talking points were property prices and fine China, any day.

A truth you were anxiously coming to terms with was the fact that you also loved all of this because of Arthur. You could spend hours listening to the husky timbre of his voice excitedly tell you the stories that only a Hell-raising outlaw could.

And yet he was just as enrapturing while sketching quietly or baby-talking his horse as he brushed and fed it.

This evening in Saint Denis was the culmination of all of those nights of curiosity and company.

You had woken up early that morning, Arthur journaling on the couch as you approached him.

“I have an idea cowboy.”

He closed his journal and raised an eyebrow.

“You guys still need money right? Well you and I could make a killing in Saint Denis…”

Arthur sighed and closed his journal, “meanin’?”

“Without you on my arm I’m an easy target in the wrong part of town. You could hang back and I could just draw them out,” you raised your eyebrows excitedly.

Arthur stood up waving his arms in the air, “absolutely not. You crazy woman?!”

“First of all, we would make a good team. Second, do not call me ‘woman’.”

Arthur seemed to take your scolding to heart, shoulders slumping slightly. “Sorry…”

Walking over to you with a softer tone he continued, “just wouldn’t forgive myself if somethin’ happened to ya. I know yer capable but…these things can be unpredictable.”

“Maybe so, but I trust you. Now c’mon Arthur, live a little,” you teased with a wink.

That was all it took, though he continued complaining about going against his better judgment.

Dolling yourself up in your finest that evening, you stood in front of the mirror — scared and excited.

Arthur came in slowly after a delicate knock. In the reflection you caught him pausing at the sight of you, eyes roaming and expression softening.

“You uh…ya ready?”

“Almost, I just…can’t get this necklace to clasp,” you laughed nervously.

“Oh uh…well lemme help then…”

Arthur’s boots were heavy on the floor but his approach was slow and considerate. Handing him the necklace, he draped it around your front, cold metal brushing against you.

The combination of his warm and broad chest hovering against your back with his calloused fingertips ghosting along the skin of your neck, brought forth goosebumps you hoped he wouldn’t notice.

Watching in the reflection, a slight tremble kept him from joining the two sides of the necklace. “Damn fingers are too big,” he chuckled bashfully.

“It’s okay,” you spoke quietly with a reassuring smile.

Finally it clasped together, the emerald jewel coming to a rest at the swell of your cleavage. Before Arthur stepped back, his knuckles lingered on the nape of your neck as he dragged a fingertip along the golden filigree.

“So…would you steal this from me Arthur?”

“Well, you’d definitely catch my attention,” he said warmly before stepping back.

Trying not to read into Arthur’s response, you absentmindedly adjusted in front of the mirror. “Haven’t worn this dress yet, wasn’t sure if I liked it…”

“Why? Y’look beautiful,” Arthur stated.

You felt a flutter spread in your chest and stomach while watching him fumble with his gunbelt in the mirror.

“I uh,” he cleared his throat and motioned toward the door, “we should get goin’.”

All eyes were on you as your large bodyguard walked protectively by your side. You meandered through the city waiting for nightfall, listening to the street performers and perusing the shop windows.

As the sun dipped below the horizon you and Arthur made your way behind the saloon.

“Now you catch someone’s eye ‘n bring ‘em out here,” Arthur pointed to the dark of the alleyway, “I’ll be right down there.”

Clasping your shoulder with his bear paw of a hand he implored, “please be careful.”

“Always am Mr. Morgan,” you winked with a confident smile though your heart was racing.

You watched as he concealed the lower half of his face with a black bandana, leaving only his eyes to be seen under the wide brim of his hat.

Only in the faint light of the streetlamp did you realize that Arthur’s eyes were the same shade as the jewel around your neck. Your heart was pounding for more reasons than one.

The night wore on with the usual bothering from drunk and foolish men — mostly harmless, buying you drinks (that you only pretended to sip) and asking why you were alone.

You fiddled with your necklace and purse, making sure to draw any attention from types you wouldn’t want noticing.

And it did. A dirty and angry looking man in the corner caught your eye. He wasn’t drunk and he had been watching you closely for most of the night.

As the music and clamoring picked up in pace and volume you headed toward the swinging doors in the back; sure enough he followed in your peripheral.

Each second as you made your way into the alley became more and more urgent, heart pounding and sweat dripping while you kept your hand close to your purse — should you need to use the knife Arthur gifted you.

The man closed in quickly, not touching you yet but attempting to intimidate with his presence. “Better stop right there girl…”

Turning around slowly you looked at your mark. He was big — but not as big as Arthur.

“Ain’t anyone teach you not to be alone in places like this?” He sneered with an air of superiority.

You watched Arthur’s bulky frame come into view from behind the shadows, “who says I’m alone?”

The gun in Arthur’s hand pressed to the man’s temple, “ain’t anyone ever teach you to be a gentleman?”

Arthur chuckled darkly, “now…I’m gonna hand that gun in yer holster to the fine lady,” he pressed the revolver harder into the man’s head, making him flinch. “— an’ if ya try anything I’ll blow yer goddamn head off.”

Arthur’s voice was deep and dark and almost made you feel bad for the man, but mostly it stirred something within you.

After the gun was given to you, Arthur began rummaging through the pockets to find money and trinkets.

You knew what the two of you were doing wasn’t right either and Arthur was a bad man, but he was good to you and there was goodness inside of him.

And at that moment? Electricity surged through every inch of your body with exhilaration and you had trouble finding sympathy for a man who would corner a woman by herself.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” The reality of the situation hit hard as a police officer stopped at the end of the alleyway — clearly seeing that it was Arthur robbing the man.

“Oh thank God you’re here officer!” You threw a shaking hand up to play the victim, “please help us!”

You felt terrible for the brief panic in Arthur’s darting eyes as he seemed unsure if you were betraying him.

It didn’t last though. Using your other hand you quickly pointed the gun you kept hidden from view and fired above the officers head.

Arthur understanding that it was a way to buy time, hit the man with the butt of his gun in an attempt to knock him out.

Swiftly grabbing your wrist he pulled you through the saloon, the drunk and confused patrons slowing down the cop in pursuit.

“The hell was that?!” Arthur demanded under his breath.

“Me trying to save our skins — you’re welcome!”

“I’ll thank ya if we make it outta here alive,” Arthur taunted as he found the closest horse to steal. He pulled you with no effort at all, your feet leaving the ground in the blink of an eye.

You wrapped an arm around Arthur’s tight core and pointed the gun behind you with the other, the galloping horse keeping you from a steady aim.

“Arthur where are we going?!”

“Jus’ hold on I’ll figure it out!”

Approaching a bridge you noticed that the view was partly obscured by willow trees, making it a good time as any to throw off the lawman.

Aiming to the best of your ability you shot behind you again, hoping to stall and not harm him. At that moment Arthur took a hard right into the grass and through the trees.

A proper lady’s place was not on the back of a horse with a wanted man, nor was it in a seedy alleyway with bad intentions. But there was nowhere else you wanted to be.

Nestling the gun in the saddlebag, you clung tightly to Arthur’s midsection and buried your face between his shoulder blades.

He was warm and strong and the wind in your hair cooler now, every sense heightened from the rush surging through you.

Slowing to a trot Arthur pulled to a grassy clearing and stopped. “Think we made it…”

He dismounted and grabbed you by the waist to help you do the same, bodies flush as your feet hit the ground.

“Wasn’t exactly a perfect heist but…you handled yerself well sweetheart.”

Arthur’s arms still hovered around you loosely as he spoke beneath his bandanna. His eyes searched yours as you brought your fingertips to his face.

Slowly, you removed what kept his lips from you and ran your thumb along his stubbled cheek. You admired the chestnut locks that fell carelessly along his brow and the way his broad chest heaved at your touch. All you wanted to do was kiss him and never stop kissing him.

“I feel like I could do anything right now Arthur…”

A smirk formed at the corner of his lips with an expectant raise of his eyebrows. Standing on your tiptoes your brought his face to yours for a slow, delicate kiss.

Though he looked dumbstruck and returned the gesture, he pulled back for a moment. “I want this but…I’m no good for ya girl. I’m only good at fightin’ and robbin’…you know that.”

“Bullshit Arthur.” The look on his face was priceless, seemingly more shocked to hear you swear despite just seeing you shoot at the law.

“Bullshit. You have goodness in you too and I’m a grown woman who knows what she wants.” Arthur watched you in disbelief.

“You’re good at protecting me and the way you touch me is kind and it makes me feel safe. I want you to keep touching me like that Arthur…”

A flicker of pride flashed on his face. The only time you could tell Arthur felt good about himself was when he helped others and he especially took a shine to helping you. Being a protector let him realize he was capable of being good at more than just robbing and fighting.

“Fair enough,” he said bringing you back in his embrace. “But I need to hear ya say it.”

“I want this Arthur, you have no idea,” your words were breathy and impatient.

His grip on you was tender but somehow still powerful despite not using any of his real strength. You felt positively tiny in his arms.

His mouth opened more for you, allowing curious flicks of your tongue on his; light whimpers combining. Hands began moving more hungrily — yours down his chest and his up your thigh.

Months prior you might have felt shame at the ache between your legs and the desire urging your hips forward; but now all you cared about was Arthur dousing that fire.

“Sweetheart it shouldn’t be like this…”

Your heart dropped, unsure of where he was going with that statement. “Wh— what do you mean?”

“Well I—look…” Arthur stuttered, trying to find the right words with a reddening face. “You deserve better’n layin’ in some grass in the woods like this.”

He paused to think and fiddle with his suspenders before continuing, “least lemme take ya back to the manor. Wanna make it, y’know…proper.”

You considered telling Arthur that you wanted it here, still riding the high of the night; being outside after barely escaping would only add to the thrill.

But Arthur didn’t want that. He wanted to treat you special and give you comfort and patience. He didn’t need to be the rugged outlaw anymore that night, he just needed to be your suitor.

You already got to play cops and robbers, maybe it was his turn to play the gentleman.

Sighing with relief you took Arthur’s hand, “well just so you know, here would be just fine with me.” Planting a reassuring kiss on his cheek you headed toward the horse, “but you can take me home.”

Arthur took a longer, more secluded route through the woods in case someone was still looking for you.

It wasn’t easy being patient, the tension palpable and the anticipation exquisite.

As you lurched forward with the horses gait you replayed the kiss and wandering hands in your mind.

You couldn’t wait to unbutton his shirt, to feel the curve of his muscle, to make him whine with the touch of your fingertips, and God you couldn’t wait to feel his on you.

You wanted him to squeeze you and mark you in every intimate place that was usually kept hidden. To thrust and curl and fill all of you.

Positioning yourself higher on the saddle you let your hands roam along his waistline and kissed the curve where his neck met his shoulder.

Arthur leaned his head, allowing you to kiss and nip at more of his sensitive skin. He responded with his rough hand grasping your calf. Ever so slowly it pushed up your dress and glided along your thigh.

Your hips instinctively rolled forward to the small of his back, Arthur kneading the fat of your thigh as your wetness grew.

It really wasn’t easy being patient.

You keened, “how much longer baby?”

“Jesus,” Arthur sighed while rolling his own hips at the air. “Gonna be there soon.”

“Tell me what you’re gonna do to me Arthur…”

“’M’gonna take off that dress you look so goddamn gorgeous in and feel how soft y’are.”

“Gonna feel how soft I am everywhere?” You teased with a light bite to his ear.

Arthur grunted a yes, “gonna part them pretty legs and make ya feel good darlin’. You gonna be good’n wet for me?”

“Oh you could sink into me right this second Arthur.”

“My God girl,” Arthur said taken aback. “Never thought I’d hear ya talkin’ like that…”

“I’m full of surprises.” You snaked your hand down to his lap, lightly ghosting over his straining manhood. “And I see you’re ready for me.”

Arthur shuddered with a groan, “painfully so.”

Laughing together you continued teasing touches and lustful whispers until the manor came into view.

Arthur sent the horse off and though it was late, the two of you snuck in should any of the gang still be up.

As the doors of the bedroom closed behind you, Arthur lifted you up and wrapped your legs around his waist. Gently pressing you to a wall your kisses were passionate and rutting slow.

Carrying you over to the bed, Arthur sat you at the edge and positioned himself behind.

Though they trembled slightly with nerves, he moved with unhurried and adept hands; carefully untying and undoing each bit of your dress and corset.

Despite the prior buildup and desperation, Arthur worked with incredible consideration and care — making sure not to harm your dress and kissing and caressing all newly exposed skin.

As the last of the confines on your upper body fell down your shoulders, Arthur massaged a breast in each hand from behind, kissing your neck and whispering praises in your ears.

Moving to the floor he knelt in front of you, slowly rolling your stockings off each leg and kissing down your inner thighs as he did.

Bare before him you felt vulnerable and exposed in a way you never had been. But Arthur wasn’t like anyone else you’d been with.

Standing up he took you in with an awestruck smile, “how the hell did I get so lucky?”

Moving to unbutton his shirt you mused, “I could ask you the same question.”

Giving him the same affection and attention, your lips and hands explored with purpose — making sure he understood you loved his scars and the hair that dusted his chest and trailed down his abdomen.

You watched as he stepped out of his pants, eager to take his throbbing length in your hand. But before you could, Arthur gently layed you down, moving the pillow under your head as he did.

Running his hand through your hair he gazed sweetly, “feelin’ okay beautiful?”

You nodded eagerly, pulling him down. Settling beside you his hand dipped down to your heat, sliding along your wet folds before pushing a finger in.

A drawn out whine escaped from your lungs, finally getting the touch you needed.

Arthur let out an amused chuckle before bringing his mouth to your breast, twirling his tongue along the stiff peak and sucking it in his mouth. All while working your inner walls.

“Arthur,” you mewled, suddenly overwhelmed at all of the wonderful sensation.

“S’okay sweet girl,” sitting up slightly Arthur used his free hand to move one of yours to your mound. “Show me how ya touch yerself.”

You rubbed circles on your swollen nub, slick with the arousal from Arthur’s pleasuring. Even just the featherlight touch was enough to push you closer as you clenched around his large digits.

Arthur observed you with lust blown eyes, “that’s right sweetheart, let’s getcha there.” His breath was hot against your neck as he cooed in your ear, “be a good girl for me…”

That was all it took for your gut to tighten as Arthur made his way back down to your breast, eagerly sucking between praises while you came around his fingers.

He didn’t remove himself from you until the last of the quivers left your legs and your panting settled. “That’s my girl…”

Gathering your senses and coming back to reality, you gently urged Arthur onto his back and moved to get on top. Straddling his much wider lap was almost a strain.

But the feeling of the underside of his cock as your wet folds glided over the twitching hardness, quickly made any strain forgotten.

Arthur’s hands grasped your hips as you sunk onto him, taking him into your core with needy moans.

He let out a shaky exhale and a whisper of your name while stilling your hips from moving, “jus’…stay like this for a second.”

Reaching up to run his thumb over your lip he smiled warmly, “this has to be the closest to heaven I’ll ever get.”

“Quite the smooth talker there Mr. Morgan.”

He laughed sweetly in response, “nah I ain’t smooth. Jus’ sayin’ what’s true.”

“Well either way,” you writhed slightly, “I think I can get you a little closer to heaven tonight…”

Placing your hands on Arthur’s sturdy chest you began bouncing on his cock, watching as he became a beautiful, whimpering mess beneath you.

There was a pride and thrill in making a tough, some would say brutish man like Arthur melt for you.

“C’mere princess,” Arthur pulled you down flush to him, your breasts pressed tightly to his upper chest as he wrapped his arms around you.

Kissing you with fervor he bucked up into your heat, his much bigger frame completely enveloping you.

“How’s this darlin’?”

“So—fuck, so good.”

“Love hearin’ you swear fer me…”

“Maybe,” you choked out between thrusts, “you should fuck me harder then.”

A primal groan expelled hot breath against your ear as Arthur picked up pace, his hand palming the swell of your ass as it shook with impact.

His substantial hand moved to cover the back of your head, lightly pulling your hair. “You take me so well sweetheart — God, so warm ’n tight.”

Every pump of Arthur’s cock hit a spot that had scarcely been stimulated before, slick dripping down your thighs as he did.

Arthur placed his fingers around your soaked opening, feeling as he pistoned in and out. “We’re makin’ a mess outta these expensive sheets.”

He tenderly placed his hand on your jaw to move your face towards his, “but you like that…dont’cha?”

His gravelly drawl was sex and sin.

Taking his thumb into your mouth you simply moaned a response as your pussy clenched around him.

“Yeah you do…good girl…”

Talking himself into a frenzy, taut muscle twitched and stiffened as he grew closer, legs kicking slightly with shallow breaths.

“Christ m’close,” Arthur choked out as his grip on you trembled.

Swiftly sitting up you hopped off and pumped his pulsing cock as he swore and gasped and gathered the sheets in his tight fists.

“That’s it handsome,” you stroked his flexing thigh while hot spend dripped down your knuckles and shot onto his tight stomach.

Arthur made a good call coming back to the manor; the comfort of the soft linens and silks certainly felt heavenly to your spent bodies.

The sight of him nude and blissful in your bed was something you’d carry with you as well, and you hoped he enjoyed the rare indulgence of comfort.

Propping himself on his elbow, Arthur eyed you with admiration. “Hell of a night.”

“Oh? That’s not just a regular night for you?” You joked with a light giggle.

“Robbin’ an idiot in an alleyway? Sometimes,” he shrugged playfully. “But this?” He leaned down to press his lips tightly to yours. “This ain’t.”

“Ya know darlin’, you ain’t gonna be able to show yer face around them lawmen again,” he realized with a laugh.

“To be honest, I think I’m growing weary of Saint Denis. Was actually hoping I might explore a little more of the world,” you paused to look at Arthur with a coy smile, “ya know?”

“Hmm, I might be able to help ya with that.”

Whether you really could leave and whether Arthur would trust your judgment in making that choice remained to be seen.

But he was happy in that moment and so were you. The two of you together was a paradox, and despite this — or maybe because of, it worked.

All that mattered was Arthur’s strong presence above you as he played with your necklace; the only thing left on your body.

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #nsft #fluff #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x f!reader #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 fanfiction #arthur morgan fanfiction #red dead redemption

[laurasimonsdaughter]

The movie nights, Yule decided, were genuinely nice. Yes, it was absolutely ridiculous that she was forced to sit in between Ev and Chris every time. Especially since Chris was now constantly a pile of blankets and hot water bottles, basking in the rediscovery of warmth, which he wouldn’t have to do if he had sat next to Ev, who was an absolute furnace. 

But of course he couldn’t possibly do that, because there were only three days left until full moon, which meant Ev was already so hairy and uncomfortable when fully clothed that they had stripped down to their shorts and sports bra as soon as they got home. It was a wonder Chris hadn’t fully left the room yet just to prevent himself from accidentally looking at their midriff. One day, Yule thought, she was going to snap and forbid him to spend so much time with vampires from the 1940s.

But right now his eyes were glued to the action on the TV screen and Ev was lounging comfortably, both of them at least temporarily relaxed on either side of her. And that was really very nice. 

“You know what,” Yule said, handing Ev the bowl of crisps and bumping companionably against Chris’s drawn up knee. “I think movie nights should be on the list of house rules. Movie nights every Friday, to improve human-vampire-werewolf relations.”

“I’m game,” Ev grinned, teeth glinting and Chris made a pleased sound from inside his cocoon.

Wonderful. Surely they’d start actually hanging out and talking to each other eventually. Yule sat up, reaching for her soda. “Speaking of house rules,” she remembered. “Stop stealing my foundation, Chris. I can get you your own. Mine's too dark for you anyway. You ought to have one closer to your current skin tone.”

“I can't even see my skin without make-up!” Chris protested.

“I know that,” Yule said fondly. She knew that was why he wore it, to be able to see himself in the mirror every once in a while. “But I can. I‘ll help you choose something you like. Maybe two shades lighter, I think.”

“More olive though.”

“Hm?” Yule turned to look at Ev, and so, amazingly, did Chris.

“Not just lighter,” they said intently, gesturing at his face. “There’s a more olive tint to...Chris’...complexion...” Ev's voice inexplicably trailed off to mumbling silence rather suddenly and their gaze dropped to the floor.

Yule looked thoughtfully at Chris, too distracted to notice the calamity unfolding on her couch. “Yeah I think you’re right! An olive tone would look very good.” 

She tried to give him another encouraging smile, but he was still looking at Ev, with rather wide, startled eyes. And Ev's cheeks had gone worryingly pink under their stubble.

The horror of it all hit Yule just a bit too late. “Oh dear,” she said loudly. “I’ve completely missed where this scene was going. Chris, where were we?”

“What?” Chris stammered distractedly. He looked as close to flustered as a cold, bloodless vampire could possibly get. 

She could just tell them. She could just turn off the TV, and tell them, and leave them alone in here. Possibly lock all doors and windows and tell them she’d be back when they had sorted their shit out. Tomek would probably let her crash on his couch, especially if she repaid him with more gossip. 

Yule took a deep breath. “Where were we in the movie? Two minutes back?”

“Uh, sure.” 

“You’ve got the remote, hun.”

“Oh, yes.” Chris hastily grabbed for the remote, one pale arm reaching out of the tangle of blankets.

On the other side of the couch Ev had pretty much curled up into a ball, their limbs folded at odd, inhuman angles to make up for the lack of a tail to hide their face behind. Yule could feel the flustered heat of embarrassment radiate off them as clearly as if she was sitting next to a damn campfire. 

The movie resumed and Yule sat, looking at the screen without seeing it, flanked by two friends doing exactly the same. They were both frozen in place, acting as if they would bloody combust as soon as they’d look at each other, and neither of them was doing anything about it. And neither was she, because Yule was genuinely afraid which words would come out of her mouth if she dared to open it right now.

She made it five whole minutes before she took out her phone and began frantically texting Tomek. 

He was not at all sympathetic, and she spitefully resolved to bring a chocolate covered coffee bean for his familiar the next time she came over.

[Read ‘And they were flatmates’ chronologically on AO3]

#and they were flatmates #(most of this story is on tumblr in that tag but not all of it) #(so go to ao3 for the full experience) #laura drabbles #werewolf #vampire #urban fantasy #roommates #nblm romance

[acey-wacey]

Bane of My Existence

Pairing - Rook Hunt x Reader

Synopsis - Ever since first year, nothing has bothered you more than Rook Hunt. You shoot quips back and forth but neither of you realize the effect you have on each other.

Genre - enemies to lovers (surprise, surprise), a tad toxic just the way I like it

Notes - last time, the reader had a dress, so this time they have a suit, yk balancing the scales

Also bridgerton inspo

The leaves crunched with every step you took as you made your way through the forest. Trey has sent you on an errand for some eccentric berries that could only be found in some spooky woods behind campus.

"I shouldn't have agreed to this," you muttered to yourself as you shivered, rubbing your arms to keep the goosebumps away. It was a particularly chilly, autumn day, perfect for getting lost in unfamiliar woods. Though they frightened you to the core, you had to admit they were beautiful. Leaves in every shade of orange and brown were swept up by the breeze, rattling the branches of the shedding trees.

You wished you had more time to admire the lovely scenery before you but it was getting late. You were about to give up on the whole ordeal when you heard a rustling behind you.

Fearing the worst, you whirled around to see a speckled fawn, blinking up at you. It must have been just a baby with how small it was, it's spindly legs barely holding up it's body. You smiled as it walked closer to you, evidently to young to be aware of worldly dangers. You knew better than to touch it for fear of it's mother's wrath but the two of you seemed to connect as you gazed into it's eyes.

Something flickered in your peripheral. You eyed your surroundings, looking for any movement besides the fluttering leaves. You brushed it off as your imagination but were quickly proven wrong when you looked past the fawn to spot an all-too-familiar hunting bow.

You yelled at the deer, scaring it away just as an arrow soared past, grazing your arm. You yelped in pain as the arrow lodged itself into a nearby tree. Blood trickled from your arm, soaking your white uniform.

"Mon Dieu, souverain de mon couer! That doesn't look so good."

You furrowed your eyebrows at the familiar nickname. You didn't know what it meant but coming from Rook, it couldn't have been good.

"I should've known you'd find some way to bother me today, Rook," you snarked, turning around to face the smug Frenchman. "So now you're shooting at me? Good to know."

You had never liked Rook Hunt. His ideologies were the exact opposite of aligned from yours. Ever since you discovered his passion for hunting, you had found yourself repulsed by his complete willingness to slaughter animals at any given moment. He set you on edge and yet you still found yourself inexplicably drawn to him. He regularly partook in an activity you considered to be barbaric yet still remained graceful and cunning, true to the Pomefiore house. No matter how hard you tried to stay away from him, he always found you and it was always torture.

"You'll be happy to know that I wasn't aiming for you," Rook mused, walking over to the tree to pull his arrow out of it's notch. "There are far more interesting prey to hunt."

"Like a defenseless baby deer?" you scoffed, appalled by his nonchalance at the prospect. Rook just shrugged and ran a finger over the sharp arrow head. "You're heartless."

"Now, now, I may seem a bit insensitive to some but heartless is a tad far," he smirked at the insult, amused to garner such a reaction . "At least I'm not completely frigid like some people I know," he eyed you up and down at the last sentence, making you laugh with surprise.

"Wow, you're really taking "insult to injury" seriously, aren't you?" You stepped closer to Rook, gesturing to your bleeding arm. He winced dramatically upon seeing the red splotch building up on your shoulder. "Next time you want to shoot me, at least make it fatal so I don't have to talk to you."

"Your arm does look really bad, mon cher," Rook said with a mix of concern and amusement on his face. He reached out gingerly, wanting to help but not wanting to make you uncomfortable. "Could I perhaps...?"

You narrowed your eyes at him, unsure of the angle he was playing but willing to go along. You nodded and watched as Rook's eyes lit up. He flicked through his backpack to find a small first aid kit.

He ushered you to sit on a rock while he rolled up your sleeve. You bounced your leg anxiously as you watched him grab pouches of gauze out of his kit. A sharp burst of pain stung through your arm as Rook pressed a cold cloth to your wound. Rook glanced at you to make sure you weren't in too much pain. When you nodded, he proceeded to disinfect and bandage the cut. You exhaled as he rolled your sleeve back down, his hand lingering on your arm for a moment too long.

"I hope you are not too much worse for wear, ma cherie." His hand slid down your arm to take your hand and bring it to his lips. "I would hate for a treat as delectable as you to be harmed."

Your breath caught in your throat, caught off-guard by Rook's genteel. You knew he was the distinguished vice dorm leader of Pomefiore so flirting came naturally to him, but it still made your heart flutter. His charm was one of the reasons you disliked him so and yet you fell prey to it time and time again.

"I'm fine," you breathed, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife as Rook smiled devilishly at you, his face shaded by the brim of his hat. After a moment, you remembered that you weren't supposed to feel anything but disdain for him. You pulled away, silently scolding yourself for being so stupid as to fall into one of his traps. "I'm fine."

Rook was momentarily alarmed by your sudden coldness in demeanor but he quickly regained his coolness. He swept his hat off of his head in a dramatically flourished bow.

"You must accept my apologies, mon trickster," Rook pouted in remorse, though you couldn't tell if it was genuine or not. "I couldn't live with myself if you found yourself hurt by my own fault."

The lovestruck fog in your brain cleared at his words, replaced with the usual anger and exasperation.

"And you could live with yourself if you killed a poor baby deer?"

Rook grinned and the hair on the back of your neck stood up.

"The thrill is in the chase, mon trickster, not the kill. I would never waste my time on a prey as helpless as a fawn."

"Then what exactly were you doing?"

Rook's eyes flitted to yours and you could feel an intensity in his gaze, not malice, but something deep. You shivered as he looked you up and down, his teeth tugging at the corner of his lip.

"Hunting a much more interesting prey, mon trickster."

You were stunned silent. You wanted to ask so many questions, you wanted to know what his motivations were, but you couldn't seem to articulate the right words. Rook just smiled and nodded his head in reverence, then walked away, his hand brushing yours as he past you.

You were left in a stunned silence as you watched Rook disappear from view. You slumped down on the rock again, trying to coach your heartbeat back to a normal tempo.

"Ridiculous," you scolded, unsure if you were referring to Rook or yourself. You shook your head and buried your face in your hands, feeling quite bashful despite being alone.

"Not him. Anyone but him. I can be in love with anyone but him."

---------------

You took a deep breath as you straightened your tie. Tonight was the first night of the Midsummer Festival, which meant a ball. It was a grand event, celebrating the season with the biggest party in all the Isles, and your outfit matched the splendor perfectly.

Your black shirt was covered with a black and gold corset vest. You were careful not to cinch it too tight at the waist and it accentuated your figure nicely. You didn't want to admit it but you couldn't pretend that you hadn't though about impressing Rook just once or twice.

You slapped yourself lightly on the cheek, trying not to think about the devious hunter. He may be flirty to you but you knew it was all an act. That was just how he was, nothing special. And you harbored no feelings for him whatsoever. Nevermind that his mere presence made your heart feel like you'd just run a marathon.

You gathered your courage as you pushed open the doors to the ballroom. Orchestral music filled your ears and you couldn't help but smile at all the excited chatter around the room. You watched as couples descended the large stairs in front of you, looking much like royalty. Your eyes wandered through the crowd, not realizing you were looking for someone until you found him.

You met eyes with Rook as you descended the stairs, holding his gaze for a few seconds too long. You snapped your eyes away, embarrassment flooding your mind as you felt him glance back up at you. You held onto the railing as you walked down the steps, not trusting your traitorously weak knees to carry you safely.

"I didn't expect to see you here, souverain de mon coeur."

You jumped. You had been so focused on ignoring Rook that you hadn't noticed when he was right in front of you. It made your heart skip a beat to see him smiling up at you from the bottom of the stairs in his purple suit coat. He bowed his head, meeting your eyes from under his long eyelashes. You gulped as you felt heat blossom on your cheeks and you grappled for a comeback.

"I..." you squeaked. Rook raised an inquisical eyebrow and you cleared your throat before trying again. "I couldn't pass up this opportunity to look better than you, now could I?"

"A very difficult feat when compared to the Pomefiore vice dorm leader, no?" Rook lilted with a cheeky smile. You huffed and leaned on the railing. "I admire your ambition, little trickster."

"Whatever happened to souverain de mon coeur?" You sounded out the French word as best you could and chuckled, expecting him to retort immediately. He didn't quip back at you, but he was smirking like he knew something you didn't. Probably because he did know something you didn't.

"Liked my little nickname, did you?" Rook flashed a barely contained smile at you, the kind that kept in a secret laughter. You didn't like how cocky he looked. "I'm assuming you don't know what it means."

"No, but I'll pretend to be offended anyway," you rolled your eyes as his smile grew into something more genuine. "You do so love being cryptic and who am I to take that away?"

Rook couldn't help from laughing. He held a gloved hand up to cover his smile, making you feel just a little disappointed you didn't get to see his glimmer of emotion besides smugness. Once he had composed himself, he extended an arm towards you.

"May I escort you to the dance floor, souverain de mon coeur?"

You scoffed, though it came out as more of a gleeful chuckle, and linked your arm over his, all too aware of the contact. You could feel childish exhilaration rushing to your brain as he led you down the stairs to the main dance floor. As you looked around at the bustling party, you felt Rook's eyes on you. You turned to look at him, startling at the soft expression on his face. His eyes flicked to your lips and for some reason, you didn't question it.

You felt something tugging at you to move closer to him, your lips parting on instinct. Rook searched your eyes but quickly snapped his gaze back to the party in front of him. He cleared his throat as he unhooked his arm from yours.

"Enjoy the party," Rook said before bowing and walking away to merge with the crowd. A part of you wanted to stop him, to ask him to stay, but you knew you couldn't. You were supposed to despise him and everything he stood for after all. You sighed and began to walk around the perimeter of the room.

Two hours later, the party was still in full swing. You had danced with a couple people in need of a partner, including Ace who was trying to make Deuce jealous. It was more entertaining to you to just survey the room from the balcony, watching as couples snuck away to make the night more interesting.

You leaned your head against your hand on the wooden railing, smooshing your cheek. The people-watching had gotten tiring after so long and your corset was starting to feel a bit too tight. Your eyes tiredly scanned the room below before they settled on a familiar blonde sitting by the wall. You furrowed your eyebrows at Rook's annoyed expression. You walked down the stairs quickly, trying not to seem too much like you were rushing.

"I must say, I never thought I would see the Rook Hunt sulking at a party," you smirked, your smile falling when he looked up at you with disdainful eyes.

"I'm not sulking," he said with a petty huff. You had never seen him at anything less than perfectly composed, so pouty was a big change. "And I'm merely a little put out that I can't dance with anyone."

"May I ask what is stopping you?" You leaned your head down to see under the hair that was hiding his face. "Are you so atrocious at dancing that you would be an embarrassment to the Pomefiore dorm?"

"No, it's the lack of a proper dance partner."

"Come on now, really. Someone as handsome as you had his pick of dance partners."

"None of them meet my standards."

You laughed in shock and rolled your eyes.

"And what did your fictitious dance partners do to make themselves so repulsive?"

At your words, Rook rose to his feet and met your eyes with a foreign intensity.

"It's not them that displease me but you."

Your indifferent demeanor cracked but you put up your stone wall, determined to not let Rook know that his words hurt you.

"If you don't want me around, then just tell me to piss off. I'm not gonna bother with somebody who clearly hates me."

"I don't hate you, Y/N. I only wish I could dance with another partner."

"This is not my fault in the slightest!" you exclaimed, drawing a few eyes from the nearby party goers. You sighed and grabbed Rook's hand, dragging him through the side door and into an empty corridor. "Your personal choices are not my responsibility. I barely even talked to you all evening!"

"That's exactly the problem, Y/N!" He pinned your hands to the wall as his shout echoed through the empty hall, resonating within you as you felt yourself melt under his passionate gaze. Rook sighed and released your hands from his grip as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "You haven't said a word to me since the ball started and I can't pretend it's not torture."

You opened your mouth to protest but Rook held a finger to your lips, his forlorn eyes silencing you.

"Please," he whispered. "I can't take this anymore."

"I cannot dance with anyone in that ballroom because none of them are you. There is not another soul I have wanted since I met you. It makes it all the more painful to know that you can't stand me and still, here I am, pining like a fool because I still long for you so desperately after all this time. You are the bane of my existence...."

Your breath hitched in your throat as you stared into the deep green of his eyes. Your heart pounded in your throat and you felt the tugging sensation once again.

"And the object of all my desires."

Rook stepped closer to you and reached a hand up to cup your face. You relaxed into his touch and closed you eyes, feeling as if this was where you were always meant to be. All you heard was your breath mixing with his before the whole world went silent.

Rook's lips captured yours in a kiss of building passion. Years of pining were finally released as you wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him closer. You smiled into the kiss, not quite processing the sudden change but feeling giddy nonetheless.

You pulled away to catch your breath, the hallway still silent except for your panting. Rook leaned his forehead against yours and you smiled.

"Rook..."

"Was that not so terribly dreamy, my love?" Rook chuckled a bit and kissed the new furrow in your brow. "Here we are, rivals with an unprecedented amount of sexual tension who can no longer pretend they don't long for each other's touch, finally releasing their feelings and exploding in a passionate confession. It's my personal favorite romance trope."

You processed for a moment before bursting into laughter.

"Did you choreograph an entire romance novel scene just to confess to me?"

Rook hummed in agreement, pleased with his charming performance.

"Did it make your heart flutter, my little trickster?"

"Yeah, a bit, I'm not gonna lie," you nodded, surprisingly accustomed to Rook's antics. "Though the part about me being repulsive dis sting a little bit."

Rook gasped in genuine shock.

"Oh, no, no, no. That won't do," he tsked, shaking his head in remorse. "I can't have you getting the wrong idea about how I see you. I must remedy this."

"Remedy it?" you laughed. How?"

"By telling you everything I love about you."

You thought he was joking but all it took was one glance into Rook's serious eyes to tell he was genuine. I'm your daze, Rook took your hand and brought it to his lips.

"My darling, my little trickster, mon petit cher," Rook punctuated each term of endearment with a kiss, each one trailing up your arm. "I love your smile, though it's so rare for you to show it to me. I love the way your eyes sparkle with passion when you are interested in something. I love how devoted you are to your friends. I love your stubbornness. Not just anyone can turn me away, you know."

You laughed but Rook continued on.

"I love your kindness and your willingness to give. I love your hair. Oh, how I've longed to feel it tangled between my fingers," Rook looked you straight in the eyes and took your cheeks gently in his hands. "And I love your lips, sovereign de mon coeur. Just as I would love to kiss them now."

You closed your eyes, overwhelmed by the gentle passion in his touch.

"What does it mean?"

"Pardon-moi?"

"Sovereign de mon couer. What does it mean?"

Rook grinned.

"It means ruler of my heart."

Those were the last words you heard before you dived headfirst, lost in the bliss of Rook's lips on yours.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #disneytw #rook hunt #rook hunt x reader #pomefiore

[fuzzy-set]

Name: Thexikas

I wanted to make him look scary with half of his face ruined by Orin, but I couldn't replicate the look in bg3's character creator. So here is my little sketch instead.

Nickname: The Thrice-sworn/The Dark Urge

He swore his oath three times, each for a different purpose. (Details at the back)

Gender: Male

Star Sign: Aries

Height: 190cm(ish)

Orientation: Panromantic

Race: Tiefling

Romancing: Gale

Despite their rather rocky start (the distrust was mutual), Gale won him over with his cooking. After that, they were always there for each other, with Thexikas hunting any magical artefacts that Gale could consume and Gale watching over him when the tiefling was deep in the urge's throes.

Fave fruit: Anything sweet, such as bananas and dragon fruits. He may not show it, but Thexikas has a huge sweet tooth.

Fave season: Mid-summer

He is a tiefling, so he is accustomed to high temperature environment, and for some inexplicable reason he really likes those violent thunder storms with lightning flashes and heavy rain.

Fave flower: Thexikas knew little about flowers, but he did have a preference for roses, especially the red ones. The colour reminded him of blood.

After his memory returned, he was still drawn to roses, but he felt very guilty about it.

Fave scent: Roasted meat, because he liked good food. It was hard to come by during the days when he lived in Bhaal's temple.

After he moved to Waterdeep, the scent of old book/alchemical mixtures became his favourite- because it reminded him of home.

Coffee, tea or hot chocolate: Hot chocolate because it is sweet.

Average sleep hours: Eight, but when he was on the road he slept much less than that. Most of the time he would stand guard for his companions.

Dogs or cats: Both!

Thexikas is a bit afraid of Tara, because he knows her fireball is capable of penetrating all his fiendish resistance. (Besides, Tara gave him the shovel talk.)

Dream trip: While he was amnesiac, he wanted to visit Avernus- or any realms belonging to the infernal. He wished to see the source of his fiendish blood, for Thexikas mistakenly thought the urge to kill is due to some sort of a devil's curse. If he could unravel the mystery, perhaps he could either master it or be rid of it.

Amount of blankets: It is either none(summer) or 10(winter), there is no in between.

Random fact(s):

He had been an oath of conquest paladin during his Chosen days, spreading the cult of murder in his father's name. After losing his memory, Thexikas experienced vague flashes of him wielding immense power. Angered by the loss, he took up the oath of vengeance to kill whoever took that power. However, the taste of justice was bittersweet. It was after his sister's death that the tenets of vengeance lost their appeal.

He broke his oath by sparing Viconia Devir. Jaheira told him about the story of the last Bhaalspawn who spurned divinity to be with his lover- a former Sharran drow. Unfortunately, even with all his intellect and arcane might, the Bhaalspawn still lost his life to protect his beloved from assassins. Thexikas intuited that Viconia was the woman whom his predecessor fell for, although the drow seemed not to remember Gorion's Ward anymore. Moved by the tale, he decided to free her again in honour of his predecessor. (Yeah, I am unhappy about how bg3 handles Viconia's arc, so here's my little headcanon as a remedy)

Inspired by the life of the last Bhaalspawn, Thexikas broke his chains. He was no longer his father's pawn, nor was he a blood-crazed madman who killed for vengeance. Now he could truly live, with the one person he swore an oath of devotion for.

Alternative Ending: Fearful of his love life sharing the same trend as the last Bhaalspawn, he made Gale a god. In this way he would not die- at least not in a mortal sense. Then Thexikas went back to the root and became an oath of conquest paladin again, because it was what he good at. Many would know him as Ambition's hound, conquering new domains in his god's name.

tagged by @galedekarios!

#baldur's gate 3 #oc #thexikas

[nyandereneko]

Stranger

Word Count: 604 Summary: “The trio of fantastical strangers found themselves stupefied in the wake of the devastating strength of the bond that’d formed between them in the breadth of a breath, but their collective confusion had no bearing on the enduring—and steadily intensifying—status of said bond.” Author’s Note: I know I'm posting this fairly late but I found a promptober list and I wanted to attempt at least some of the prompts. I probably won’t be able to keep up with every day because I’m still working (and building Gen$hin charas) most of the month, but I’m certainly going to try to do a couple of these!! If nothing else I just want to try to get into the mood of writing again, and I really enjoyed working on this piece, so thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!!

*****

Neither man knew quite what to do with himself as he was unexpectedly struck by the woman’s peculiar presence. She fell over them like a shower of late spring rain, or perhaps she was more like autumn, tinged with a chill that drew their warmth to the surface rather than stripping it away. Inexplicable and extraordinary.

She was as devastating as a comet, and as inspiring as the flash of a falling star, imbued with the essence of a wish in the depths of her very being.

She was a stranger in every sense of the word, even as their wandering gazes tripped over her that first time. They were drawn to her just as the sun is drawn beneath the distant horizon; a predictable comfort at the end of a long and arduous day. The man forged from gold and the man carved from ocean torrents orbited the star that blazed across their skies with instinctive finesse, an overwhelming impulse that prickled through their veins like a swelling storm. Her acknowledgement was the sole balm that could soothe their restless hearts. Her influence was impossible to ignore, although the idea that they’d even want to was the last thing on their minds.

Not when their minds were already so full of her.

A dazzling star that reflected the celestial radiance of the cosmos in her fragile visage, she directly contradicted her own distinguished luster in her habits, seemingly determined to conceal it at all costs. Muted, insignificant, more preoccupied with shrinking into the shadows of the darkest corner she could find than exchanging pleasantries in most meaningful social capacities…and yet. And yet, in the midst of a crowded room, there was still no doubt in their minds as to her precise position. Her very essence was a beacon to them both, a lure set with rare and mysterious bait, seemingly unremarkable while still managing to catch and hold the attention of not one but two nigh mythological beings.

The trio of fantastical strangers found themselves stupefied in the wake of the devastating strength of the bond that’d formed between them in the breadth of a breath, but their collective confusion had no bearing on the enduring—and steadily intensifying—status of said bond. In short, there was nothing a single one of them could do to divert from the path they’d stumbled upon, and there was likewise no way for them to know if that inscrutable path was the right one, the one they were always meant to find. Each of them had already tread so many different paths on their own, set off on so many journeys and wandered so many twisting alleyways and avenues of life with only their shadows—and unreliable shadows at that—as fickle company.

For Zhongli and Neuvillette, the encroaching woe of embracing a lonely future was eased by her arrival. For Nova, the swelling wave of despair and doubt that threatened to engulf her in its roiling depths broke against their very beings, dispelling any immediate danger to her fragile composure. They were each other’s remedies before they’d even said hello, forming anchors to various eras of time that passed in whirling blurs of friends and foes alike. So many years passed together in simple bliss, and just as many terrors and trials reared their heads to displace the joys of simpler times.

Nova was their constant until she wasn’t. The duo served as her shelter until she was cruelly whisked away. An untenable circumstance each of them was determined to right at any cost—though the tangled strands of fate never intended for them to be forced apart for long.

#self insert #selfship #selfshipping #oc x canon #self insert fic #self insert fanfiction #selfship fic #selfship fanfiction #self insert writing #my writing #ck writes #my self insert #my self insert writing #glitter and gold #something borrowed something blue #glitter and gold writing #something borrowed something blue writing #sorry for a novel already in the tags #yeah i love neuvillette in need to update stuff sorry he's like hydro zhongli #not legitimately ofc but like they're literally law and order okay #i'm losing my mind #also not entirely sold on his ship tag yet but i wanted something color theme to kind of match the other genshin ones #anyway thanks i wrote this in a post migraine fugue state now i'm gonna go watch a halloween movie #happy first day of halloween!!!!!!!!! #oh and yeah it seems tragic bcuz zhongli and nova and neuvillette all get together and then get separated and then find each other again #zhongli and neuvillette yearning for nova while she gets brainwashed and tortured yeehaw we love the drama #promptober 2023

[pixelmensupremacy]

𝕿𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍 𝕷𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. . .

[ᴛᴏᴜɢʜ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ]

♫ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗⁱⁿᵃ ᴬᵍᵘⁱˡᵉʳᵃ ♫

𝟎:𝟏𝟒 ──⚬──── 𝟏:𝟒𝟓 ⇆ ◃◃ ıı ▹▹ ↻

Volume: 4.2k

┌────── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

Contains: Sexually explicit content,

MDI, porn with little to no plot,

degrading kink, spanking, dirty talk,

teasing, anal, creampie, GN!reader

────── ⋆☆⋆ ──────┘

Relationships are complicated. That pertained to both humans and androids; (Y/N) and Sixty happened to be no exception.

From the very beginning of their relationship, there was an oddity in their interaction that was extraordinary in comparison to most couples. Sixty’s fierce propensity added spice to (Y/N)’s mundane life, providing them with fiery energy they didn’t realize they needed. Despite his unremarkably difficult persona, they were drawn to him. Oddly enough so was he; (Y/N)’s fascination with him was both incredibly flattering as well as confusing to him. He couldn’t help the curiosity growing within him- what was the reason behind (Y/N)’s attraction towards him?

At first, he thought it had to do with how identical he was to his predecessor, an RK800 model they had known prior to meeting him, but soon enough that proved to not be the case- (Y/N)’s interest was directed at Sixty. Their body language and demeanor in Connor’s presence differed; they were relaxed and talkative, but whenever Sixty showed up they tensed and they got flustered. Their heartbeat accelerated, their pupils dilated and their full attention shifted to Sixty, light-heartedly disregarding whatever they and Connor were discussing. Initially, he thought they were intimidated, although their vitals pointed to another feeling he didn’t anticipate he could provoke in someone- enticement.

His soft, familiar exterior combined with his harsh demeanor made for a formula of an alluring elixir (Y/N) was inexplicably drawn to akin to a moth to a flame. Despite their many differences, there was a strong magnetic force that pulled the two together.

Their relations were off to a rough start with them meeting on that faithful November night, when the man, that appeared to be the Connor (Y/N) knew and trusted, held them at gun point only to use them as bait for the actual Connor.

At that time (Y/N) went through an ocean of emotions, disappointment in themselves followed by anger for not being able to realize they were falling for a trap. Their heart raced, each beat thumped loudly in their ears, numbing any other sounds surrounding them- except his voice. A voice they were painfully familiar with, yet there was something different to it, something (Y/N) could only describe as danger. Though they felt everything but fearful.

It may have been that the mysterious man looked exactly like the android they had grown attached to, giving them a false sense of safety. But they saw the difference in his eyes from the very beginning- a wicked flicker behind the soft chocolate irises of his eyes that caused the alarms in their head to go off. Yet for some unintelligible reason, (Y/N) naively surrendered to the strong force that pulled them towards him until it was too late for them to go back. And even then, they weren’t fearing for their life as the cold barrel of his gun was touching their temple. Despite the immense amounts of adrenaline, rushing in their bloodstream, there was something else that aided for their unnatural calmness- enamor.

Ever since that fateful meeting, something within (Y/N) was unlocked, something only Sixty brought out.

It took time for the ice wall between the two to melt down, a time during which (Y/N) desperately tried to fight the desires that only grew stronger with each passing second. Meanwhile Sixty struggled with discovering and accepting his humanity. As much as they avoided each other, fate only brought them closer until they eventually surrendered, colliding into a messy union of two opposite worlds.

Their relationship was unconventional to say the least and their bond wasn’t welcomed by most of their friends, though it was the shock they caused that made their relationship all the more exciting. It was almost as if the reactions they provoked further fueled the sparks between them into a burning flame that brought an equally warming feeling to the both of them.

Sixty was an ardent lover, expressive of all and any emotion he had towards his lover. His display of affection was unhindered by the restrictive public perceptions; in fact, he enjoyed bursting people’s bubbles with his unabashed- at times even ignoble- behavior. Nonetheless, (Y/N) found it utterly endearing. His unapologetic straightforwardness was a remarkable trait of his, that most humans lost along the way of fitting into the mold that was society, that added to the uniqueness of his persona. Sixty wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea, at times, he was too much even for (Y/N).

The fiery spark within him was unpredictable, ready to rekindle at any given moment and strike anyone unlucky enough to have caused it. The force that sprung from him was mostly brought out when it counted most- at work. Never had Sixty failed to extract a confession from a suspect, and (Y/N) wasn’t surprised by that at all. His darkened, piercing gaze oozed with intensity that caused both guilty and innocent alike to tremble in fear, whilst his low voice caused shivers to run down their spine. Occasionally, his voice would raise, intentionally catching the suspect off guard. Everything about him from his aura down to his approach embodied the definition of the ‘bad cop’, which (Y/N) enjoyed to an extend they wouldn’t admit.

Being assigned the same case, (Y/N) had to be present for the interrogation of a suspect connected to the chain of crimes they and Sixty investigated. They watched closely as Sixty went about questioning the man; truth be told, they didn’t look into the suspect’s information and it didn’t interest them as much as what awaited the poor person. Standing near the dark gray tiles of the observation room, (Y/N) carefully observed Sixty; the android stood above the plain table that camouflaged with the deep gray hues of the interrogation room. He browsed through the case files, absorbing every bit of information before he sat across the man. Shortly after the formalities of introducing himself to the suspect, Sixty got right down questions; even though he was trying his best to predispose the man into talking, his patience was wearing thin- Sixty wasn’t known for having perfect temper.

Slamming the case file atop the surface of the table, Sixty yelled something at the suspect (Y/N) didn’t catch, for they were just as surprised as their colleagues in the observation room. The slam of the paper echoed across the room, causing the poor man to flinch, though much for his dismay, Sixty was just getting started.

“Where you at the night of April 20th?” Sixty stood up and hovered above the man; helpless underneath the android, the suspect trembled in fear.

“Speak up you scumbag!” Suddenly, Sixty picked up the suspect by his collar, lifting him in the air as if he weighted nothing before letting him fall back on his chair. (Y/N) stared in awe, trying their best to suppress the inappropriate thoughts that arose in their mind. Heat rushed through their body; their foot tapped against the matt in a failed attempt to ignore what their body desired. In that moment they thanked all and any deities out there Sixty couldn’t see their flustered face through the mirror.

“Don’t make this difficult for the both of us. If you cooperate, I can guarantee no one will get hurt.” He whispered words of empty promises, yet -on the other side of the one-way mirror- (Y/N) bit their lip as Sixty’s melodic voice tingled their ears.

“Look, I don’t have all fucking day to deal with you.” Sixty now spoke in a calmer tone all the while intentionally retaining the threatening undertone in his voice.

(Y/N)’s breath hitched; despite the solid layer of glass standing between them and Sixty, the air seemed to thicken, causing them to suffocate by the intensity that surrounded him. Their heart raced, sending a rush of hot blood to their face; beads of sweat broke on their forehead. Lightheaded, they exited the observation room and stumbled their way to the break room. Downing a glass of water, (Y/N) finally felt a sense of relief as the coolness of the water aided in calming them down- or at least they did up until Sixty joined them.

Silently, he made his way to the fridge and took a thirium drink without addressing the flustered look on their face- odd. He sipped at the drink; his gaze fell upon (Y/N)’s one. Flustered, they looked away, a new rush of heat spread across their face. Mentally, they scolded themselves for getting all hot and bothered just at the sight of him, though Sixty seemed more than pleased with that reaction.

“You seem upset, detective.” He bit his lip in a failed attempt to hold back a knowing smile.

“I don’t remember the observation room to be that warm.” (Y/N) played along, avoiding his prying eyes.

“Are you pleased with how the interrogation went? The suspect was quite difficult to work with, though eventually, I managed to successfully get the information we needed.” He went on, adeptly working with his words to extract the answer he sought after much like he did during interrogations though with a significantly calmer approach. (Y/N) sensed that, though they were sure to resist for as long as they could to get him on the edge.

“It worked.” Now that (Y/N) collected themselves, they finally looked up at him only to be met with his deep brown eyes boring into them.

“Maybe I could learn a thing or two from you.” They suggested jokingly, which in return piqued his interest; he nodded in approval, a proud smile curled the corners of his lips.

“What is it that you wish to learn?” His voice was low, suggestive, alluring; it was a trap (Y/N) knew was bound to drag them into his web, yet they were willing to surrender- eventually.

“Everything.” They whispered, their face was a mere inches away from Sixty’s, their warm breath tickled the sensors of his synthetic skin.

 “For god’s sake! Get a room!” The annoyed shouting of Lieutenant Anderson anchored their attention, resulting in resolving the intense staring contest the two were having.

Curiosity killed the cat- a phrase Sixty painfully related to his entire existence, and now the mystery of (Y/N)’s strange behavior had fully occupied his mind. Silently, he observed them, looking for clues as to what caused them to get so flustered today. He wasn’t unfamiliar with their bashful reactions, especially when he was the causing them, though he detected something different.

Creeping up behind them, he rested his head atop theirs all the while his hands snaked around their waist, slightly swaying them. Sixty pecked their cheek, bringing a smile to their face that shortly turned into giggles as his wandering hands slid across their warm skin in opposite directions; his lips trailed the outline of their jaw, before making their way to their neck and collarbone where he gently sucked underneath the bone. (Y/N)’s giggles soon turned into breathy whimpers. They gasped his name as he groped their ass causing them to drop the tea cup they were holding.

“Fuck.” He cursed under his breath almost too quietly for (Y/N) to hear. Blood rushed to their face, warmth spread across their skin; guilt washed over Sixty’s features, though looking at his partner he was surprised to see the lack of upset in their eyes.

“Goddamn Sixty! You’re gonna be the end of me.” They rushed the words out of their mouth as their gaze shied away from him, hiding the glint of bashfulness they hopped he wouldn’t notice. Kneeling in sync, the two collected the broken pieces of the porcelain not uttering a single word while doing so. Sixty’s gaze studied them the entire time, noticing how their heart thumped against their ribcage loud enough for him to hear, and how their pupils were dilating. Reaching for the last piece, their hands brushed, sending electric shocks across the two as if they touched for the very first time. Raising their head, (Y/N) was met with Sixty’s curious gaze.

“(Y/N).” He softly uttered their name. “Are you hiding something from me?”

“Why would I?” They broke the eye contact and threw the last piece in the trash can. His prying eyes didn’t leave their form for even a second; now he was sure there was something.

“I know this is my very first and only relationship I’ve been in but as far as I’m informed partners shouldn’t keep secrets from each other.” He insisted, following their steps to the couch.

“Correct.” They laid on the soft cushions.

“Then why do you avoid sharing with me whatever it is on your mind?” He sat on the sofa across them, his puzzled eyes bore into them.

“What do you want me to share?” (Y/N) played dumb, avoiding his gaze and fighting back a smug grin.

“The thing that has been on your mind ever since this morning.”

“Which one?” His patience was wearing thin.

“You know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about.” (Y/N) tensed, he smiled to himself. “Spare me the bullshit and get to the point.” His voice was even, assertive, confident; judging by the shy smile on their face, he was dangerously close to getting the answer he sought after.

Heat pooled in their lower stomach, yet faint sense of shame overtook them for they realized he was close to revealing their little secret. They sat up and glanced at him; he looked even hotter than he sounded. His hair was messy, the brown locks of hair fell perfectly across the sharp features of his face; his eyebrows were raised, deepening the lines of his forehead, his chocolate eyes were overtaken by the darkness of his dilated pupils. A few buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing the fair skin underneath the fabric just enough to tease (Y/N). He was a sight for sore eyes, one they somehow managed to miss for the entirety of the evening.

“Tell me, detective.” They began as they made their way towards him. “What have you deduced?” They shot him a daring look as they made themselves comfortable on his lap. Immediately, his hand found its place on their thigh; their warmth tingled his sensors.

“I’ve come to the conclusion you are aroused by the sexual practice of getting humiliated, otherwise known as degradation kink.” He spoke with confidence all the while maintaining his typical matter-of-factly undertone.

“Very impressive I got to admit.” (Y/N) playfully tugged at his loosened tie that he still wore even hours after his shift ended. “Though I must ask what will you do now that you’re aware of this information?” They shot him a naïve look that did a poor job of hiding the mischief in their voice.

“I’m going to treat you like the little slut you are.” (Y/N) yelped as Sixty lifted them in the air as if they weighted nothing; holding onto his shoulders, they giggled once they noticed him heading to the bedroom. They bounced on the mattress, relishing the view of him. His slender fingers worked on completely undoing his tie; sliding the silky fabric of the tie off his neck, he was quick to wrap it around their wrists. (Y/N) only bit their lip, anticipating his next move.

“Move around for me.” He demanded; enthusiastically, they rolled on their stomach and raised their ass in the air, teasingly wiggling it in the process. Deep chuckle ripped through his vocal box.

“Shameless bitch.” A loud smack echoed across the room followed by an equally load moan that rolled past (Y/N)’s lips. “So desperate to get fucked.”

Firmly holding their hips in place, his strong grip was sure to leave a galaxy of blue and deep purple; trapped in his hold, his own hips rubbed against (Y/N)’s ones. Even through the fabric, they felt the undoubted, familiar hardness ribbing against their butt cheeks, the friction did nothing but tease them. Their hands grasped the silky sheets in an attempt to balance themselves but to no avail; Sixty’s humping grew in force and frequency, causing their body to melt under his touch. His grip on their thighs tightened, causing a feeling of discomfort they were willing to go through if it meant they would feel the ultimate they so deeply desired. Arousal ran in their veins; the animalistic nature of it all sent a rush of excitement in their body and when he cursed under his breath. Oh lord. They thought they could cum right then and there.

Another louder moan ripped through their throat as Sixty’s palm came crashing down on their poor cheek, not even their clothes could weaken the impact of his palm. Intentionally, he kept his hand in place after each slap, holding and kneading the sore skin before repeating the process. Guided by the sounds they made, Sixty accommodated the force of his hand, making sure he provided his partner with an enjoyable amount of pain and pleasure.

“How pathetic, getting off without even proper stimulation. Are you that needy for me?” Despite knowing it was a rhetoric question, (Y/N) frantically nodded in hope of finally getting what they ached for.

“Even though I expertise in non-verbal communication I would much rather hear you say it, dear.”

“Please, Sixty… Fuck me.” They pleaded, all shame and dignity had left them long ago for the sole purpose of sinful pleasure.

“So desperate to get fucked by an android. I’m so much more superior than you, I could crush your fragile body at any second. Isn’t that idea upsetting to you?” They shook their head no, their ass pressed against his throbbing cock; Sixty chuckled understanding what they were getting at.

Forcefully pulling down their pants, he smacked their ass once more but now the impact was much more intense. (Y/N) whimpered, the air hitting their skin granted them a relieving, cooling sensation. Sixty’s slacks followed the same fate; swiftly he unbuckled the belt and unzipped the piece of clothing, holding back his growing erection. Alerted by the sound of clothes ruffling, (Y/N) bit their lip, mentally preparing themselves for what was to come. His cock rested atop the valley of their flaming hot butt cheeks; cool lube leaked on their hot skin. Pressing their burning cheeks together, he relished the sensation of the warmth, wrapping around the highly responsive sensors of his synthetic dick.

“Sixty…” They uttered his name, their voice barely above a whisper already breathless in anticipation for him.

“You’re going to have to wait a bit, dear.” He rubbed the skin of their ass, kneading their sore skin. Suddenly, the pressure of his weight on them vanished, leaving them waiting. Curiosity got the best of them, for they couldn’t help but take a peek behind their shoulder, only to be met with the sight of him slowly rubbing himself, taking his time massaging the tip the way (Y/N) did. His chocolate eyes were shut, his mouth was agape, his jaw was clenched; they couldn’t help but whimper at the sight that made their legs soften. Alerted by the sudden sound, his eyes shot open, immediately coming in contact with their curious ones.

“Do you enjoy the view?” He raised his eyebrow at them as they looked away, embarrassed they got caught. ”Shamelessly watching me get off, you really are a dirty whore.” He noted as if he was uncertain about their hidden nature up until this very moment.

(Y/N) yelped, taken by surprise by his hands suddenly pulling them flush against his chest. The coldness of his skin contrasted to the heat of their own one that burned with desire to get absolutely ruined by him; his hand held them tightly in place, his fingers dug in their soft flesh. His nose was buried in the crook of their neck, his lips were dangerously close to their most sensitive spot, which happened to be his favorite place to litter with kisses.

“How bad do you want me to fill up that little hole of yours?” He went about it casually as if he just didn’t ask if they were sure about him rearranging their guts.

“Very bad.” Their breath hitched as Sixty’s hand slowly traced each and every curve of their body until he reached their inner thigh.

“Good.” Shivers ran down their spine; his other hand found it’s place on their nipple, where his fingers tirelessly toyed with their hardened bud. Hard as it ever was, his cock pressed against their lower back, reminding them of its presence though (Y/N) didn’t need to feel it in order to think about it more often than they would like to admit. Soft moans rolled down their plump lips as they melted underneath the delicate touch of his lips, trailing across their neck and up their jaw. Tracing his tongue atop their jaw, he made his way to the spot behind their ear, where he planted a gentle kiss. Then his mouth wandered atop their earlobe, where he bit hard enough to cause them to wince in discomfort.

“Now be good for me and bend over the bed.” His melodic voice entranced them in doing whatever it was he told them to. Positioned in all fours, (Y/N) blindly anticipated to be filled. Gripping the shiny, silky sheets, they arched their back, luring him in. Sixty smirked and moved closer to them, whilst continuing to rub himself. In rushed pace, he massaged his cock until he came on their throbbing hole; spreading his synthetic cum on their entrance. Lubing them up, he began playfully teasing them. Pressing his thumb on their hole, he slowly let his finger sink in them only to bring it out and back in again.

Before they knew it, (Y/N) were panting; the painful sensation faded into bliss, the cool substance of his cum aided to calming the burning discomfort and make the process as painless as possible. Sixty was careful, pressing slowly and taking his time gently stretching out their entrance all the while he made sure they were completely relaxed. Constantly, he kept track of their vitals and talked to them to reassure himself he was doing them no harm.

“This is going to hurt a little bit.” He cautioned them, once he was certain they were prepared.

Slowly, he thrusted in; (Y/N)’s breath hitched, their grip on the sheets grew tighter. His hands dug into their hips, keeping them in place; for a few seconds, he stood still, giving them time to adjust to him. (Y/N) wiggled gently, wordlessly urging him to move- and so he did. With the upmost caution, he pulled out in a singular, slow motion before he pushed back in. (Y/N) whimpered, their back arched, bringing their ass back, wanting him deep inside of them. Spreading their butt cheeks, he began thrusting in a steady pace. (Y/N) melted underneath his touch; where his fingers would caress, they felt electric shocks and the way his dick filled them up had them breathless. As he picked up his pace, incoherent noises mixed with moans of pleasure were all the sounds that left (Y/N)’s mouth fully contrasting Sixty’s unnatural quietness. Despite constantly pounding into them at a now merciless manner, he was inhumanly silent, except for the occasional whimper.

Too infatuated with (Y/N)’s voice, he had lowered his own to fully relish the melody that was their breathy pleads and moans. His full attention was focused on them; observing how their body reacted to each of his thrusts, he accommodated his movements to bring them the most pleasurable experience possible.

“Are you enjoying yourself, you dirty slut?” (Y/N) practically felt his deep chuckle against their neck as his fingers held their neck so their ear was at the level of his mouth. The change of angles had immense effect on how he hit a certain spot that had them seeing stars. The only respond they were capable of giving at the moment was just a series of moans and whimpers of his name, though he didn’t seem pleased with just that.

“Answer me bitch!” Suddenly, he stopped moving, causing them to moan out in protest.

“Yes! Sixty, please don’t stop!” They whined in-between moans; the lack of friction left them needy and on the brim of the much-anticipated ecstasy. Chills ran down their spine as his cold breath hit their burning skin; they didn’t hear it clearly but they felt his laughter against their neck. His lips traced a line down to their collar bone, where he sucked on their skin, purposefully denying them their climax as long as he could contain himself for. It was a form of tortious practice he was found of; he liked pushing (Y/N) to their limit just to see how much they could last before giving in, or before he got too frustrated. Their face was a sight to see; plump lips glistering with saliva, glossy beads of sweat covered their heated skin, their teary eyes begged him to fuck them into oblivion. They were so human and he loved it. He couldn’t hold back a moan from ripping out his vocal box as he no longer cared about not hearing their moans as they were permanently burned into his CPU.

“As I thought.” Loud moan followed as he thrusted into them as suddenly as he stopped; his pace was unforgiving, hitting their sweet spot over and over again in an inhuman speed. A scream escaped from (Y/N)’s agape mouth- they were out of breath but he didn’t stop. The whole bed shook, hitting the wall in synch with his thrusts; if they weren’t too intoxicated by how his dick stretched them out, they would’ve been afraid of their neighbors hearing what they were up to- but frankly that wasn’t the case. His name rolled off their tongue multiple times akin to a mantra that was the only thing that kept them from ascending into a higher realm of pure extasy.

Feeling their peak getting dangerously close, they were surprised to feel the vibration from his cock rock their entire world. With a loud scream they came hard, his name echoed across the whole room and beyond, though Sixty kept going. Only after the blur of their orgasm was fading away did they hear his moans and pants as he kept chasing his high. Placing their arms around his neck, (Y/N) brought him in for a deep passionate kiss; their tongue brushed against his, in respond he moaned loudly and that’s when they felt his cum coating their insides. Manually, he kept moving until he emptied every last drop of his synthetic cum.

Laying by their side, he wrapped them in a blanket, caressing their damp cheek.

“I have never suspected you are into such type of sexual practice.” He remarked, staring at them with utter affection and infatuation.

“For someone with pretensions of being one of the -if not the most- advanced android you tend to catch on a bit later. I’m surprised it took you that long to find out.” They giggled at his puzzled expression as they bit his tie, untangling the knot he did earlier.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” He completely avoided the subject.

#dbh fanfic #dbh imagine #dbh x reader #rk800 60 #sixty x reader

[hbyrde36]

Caught in the Undertow

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 AO3

Chapter 6: The night is beckoning, although I have nowhere to go but home

*Steve*

Steve knows he’s staring, but he can’t help it. It feels like he’s been waiting for this forever. It shouldn’t feel this important, sitting on the couch next to Eddie and just talking, getting to know each other, but Steve treasures every second of it. 

All too soon Eddie is yawning and he knows the evening is coming to an end. There’s a part of him that is afraid to go to sleep, that he’ll wake up in the morning to find this had all been a fluke or a dream, that Eddie will go back to hating him in the morning. He doesn’t voice any of that though, thinks it would make him sound crazy. He just needs to have faith that things really have changed. 

Later, when they have gone to their separate rooms, Steve’s not sure if it’s anxiety or the fact that he took a long nap, but he knows he won’t be able to fall asleep anytime soon. As he lays there, staring at the ceiling, he starts to think maybe it’s finally time to let himself examine the thoughts and feelings he’s been pushing to the side for far too long.

He goes back to where it all started. He knows he has felt inexplicably connected to Eddie since the moment he popped out from under that tarp in the boathouse, and slammed him into the wall. Steve had looked deep into those soulful brown eyes and instantly recognized the pain and sadness there, and the way it echoed his own. 

It happened quickly and without thought. From one second to the next Eddie became incredibly important to him. Right up there with Robin and Dustin and the rest of the party, he barely knew the guy and yet there was no doubt in Steve’s mind that he would do whatever it took to keep this person safe.

All throughout that terrible week Steve had been drawn to Eddie. Whenever they were forced to leave him behind, Steve would be consumed with worry. The worst was the day they came back to the boathouse and he was gone. In those few minutes before he’d managed to radio them from skull rock, Steve thought he would lose his mind. He was ready to tear the town apart to find him until Dustin’s walkie had crackled to life. 

The times they were together, in the boat, the upside-down, or the RV, Steve always found himself either right next to the other boy, or searching out his gaze. It was like Eddie had his own gravitational pull, and Steve was helpless against it.

It hurts to think back on the night where they nearly lost Eddie, but Steve forces himself back into that place anyway. His heart had broken in two when he found Dustin crouched over the body. He had convinced himself it was Dustin that his heart was breaking for, or that he just felt incredible guilt over the fact that someone other than him had been hurt this time. He knew now that it was a lie. 

That day, his heart had shattered for himself and for the beautiful boy laying on the ground in front of him. For the lost potential, for everything about himself that he hadn’t realized until it was too late. Steve had snapped, jumping into action, determined to resuscitate Eddie or die trying.

And that was all before he’d really gotten to know him. An argument could be made that he still didn’t know Eddie that well, not directly at least, but Steve had been talking to Wayne on a regular basis for weeks and he loved nothing more than sharing anecdotes about his nephew. The old man wasn’t quite the storyteller that Eddie was, but Steve ate it all up regardless.

He forces himself to take a pause in his reflections, despite the fact that he is lying utterly still in bed, Steve’s heart is racing and he can’t seem to catch his breath. His cheeks are wet where teardrops have fallen without his notice. Rolling out of bed, he sneaks down the short hallway to the bathroom. He splashes cold water on his face and stares at himself in the mirror for a long time. 

Somewhere between the near-apocalypse, the hospital, and his own ill-fated party the other night, Steve had fallen hard for Eddie Munson.

Suddenly hyperventilating, Steve dropped to the floor, tucking his head between his knees like Wayne had taught him. For just a moment, he wished he could shove it all back into the dark, and pretend he never looked at it. It was too much, too big, this feeling. He had been somewhat prepared to face the fact that he maybe had a crush on his friend, he was not prepared to realize he was in love with him. 

Eventually he calmed enough to think about things logically. This didn’t have to change anything no one had to know, especially Eddie. It was horrible timing, the guy had hated him less than a day ago, though the reason behind that had been a little irrational. 

Not to mention that all of this meant Steve was in fact not straight, as he had previously thought and that was maybe something he should come to terms with before even considering telling Eddie about his feelings. Right? 

Besides, Eddie had enough of his own problems, he certainly didn’t need to be subjected to the burden of a relationship with Steve. As if Eddie would even be interested in someone like him.

Steve’s pity party is brought to an abrupt end as he hears a loud noise come from somewhere in the house. He rushes out of the bathroom to grab his nail-bat from its home near his bed. He stands very still in the middle of the hall, holding his breath and listening hard for any sign of movement. 

It happens again, this time Steve is close enough to recognize that the sound is coming from the guest room. He nudges the door open quietly, peeking inside to find Eddie thrashing around in the bed.  He quickly dashes across the hall to stash the bat back in his own room, not wanting to scare Eddie with its presence. In the few seconds it takes him to get back, Eddie starts screaming.

Steve grips him firmly around the shoulders, shaking gently at first in an effort to wake him without startling him. It’s not working, Eddie is still screaming and crying and struggling. Steve starts shouting his name, jostling him harder until finally his eyes shoot open.

Eddie wakes up terrified, immediately asks about Dustin, which gives Steve some idea of what he was dreaming about. He does the best he can to reassure Eddie that everyone is fine, that he is fine, that Steve has him. He doesn’t even know what he’s saying half the time but it seems to be working anyway. He wants so badly to wrap Eddie up in a tight hug and never let go, but with the weight of recent revelations hanging on him, he holds back.  

He doesn’t want to leave but once Eddie has settled down it seems like that’s what he’s supposed to do. He starts to pull away but then Eddie is grabbing onto his wrist for dear life, and asking him to stay. It’s a terrible idea, it’ll only hurt him in the long run, but when has that ever stopped him?

It becomes a thing.

Night after night, Steve sits awake in his room waiting for the moment that Eddie cries out. It’s wreaking havoc on his heart, the closeness, the handholding, whispered conversations in the dark, but they both seem to sleep better once they’re together. Steve considers suggesting they just start sharing a bed on purpose but he’s afraid that tiny bit of separation is the only thing saving his sanity. 

He takes the opportunity to call Robin one afternoon while Eddie is busy writing away. Taking every precaution he can to make sure he isn’t overheard, Steve locks himself in his dad’s old office, and dials. 

“Hey sailor, I was wondering if i’d ever hear from you again.” 

It’s a joke of course but he can hear how much she’s missed him. He’s missed her too.“Don’t be dramatic, it’s been like a week.”

“We used to talk every day!”

“I know, I'm sorry, okay? I’ve just been…busy.”

“Busy doing what exactly?” She teases.

Steve sighs

“Sorry, it’s a reflex. How is Eddie doing?”

He’s not sure how much to tell her about this part, or what Eddie would be comfortable with sharing, so he keeps it vague. “Really good actually. We finally talked and he’s doing a lot better. It’s been great having someone to hang out with all the time actually.”

“That’s amazing!”

“Yea” Something about his tone must be off, and of course Robin clocks it immediately.

“...Is that not a good thing Steve?”

“No, it is!”He’s quick to correct. “It’s just…I have to tell you something.”

“Omg is this finally happening???!” She asks, squealing so loudly that Steve has to move the phone away from his ear. 

“Robin!” He groans. She’s going to be insufferable about this. He just knows it, but he was going crazy, he had to tell someone.

“Sorry, sorry, I'll let you tell me. Go ahead.”

“I think i’m in love with Eddie”

The silence on the other end of the line is deafening. 

“Well? Robin, say something!”

Eventually the sound of her cackling laughter crashes through the phone line. “Leave it to you, Steve Harrington, to blow right past the crisis part of your gay awakening, skip the crush,  and dive head first into L.O.V.E.”

“You told me to!”

“Nope, no you do not blame this one on me. I was a witness at most, a bystander! I just wanted you to admit that you had some kind of feelings for the guy. I knew you had a crush or something but Jesus Steve!”

“I know. I don’t know how it happened, but it did. I like him so much, I feel crazy with it”

“Well what did he say?! Are you guys like dating now or what?” She sounds so happy, he wishes he could feel the same. 

“I didn’t tell him”

“What?!!”

“I can’t Robin, for so many reasons, I just can’t.”

“Explain it to me.”

“Come on…”

“No, you come on! Is this some self loathing sacrificial bullshit or do you really have a reason?“

“It’s just, not the time. Okay? He’s got enough to deal with, he doesn’t need this too.”

“You know you’re not a burden right? That loving you and being loved by you isn’t some chore…”

His throat feels tight. He wants to believe her, god knows he does, but it can’t be true. He knows Robin loves him, she’s proven it time and again, but she’s the only one that’s ever stayed. She is the exception to the rule. Nancy hadn’t loved him back, he didn’t really blame her. His parents hadn’t even loved him back. He’d lied to Eddie, that night out by the pool. They never offered for Steve to go with them. They should have, it’s what any kid would have expected. Instead he came home from school one day to a note and their empty closets. They left him the house but  had no interest in being a part of his life. How unlovable must he be that even his parents didn’t want to stick around?

He must be quiet for too long, as she continues. “You are a good person Steve, anyone would be lucky to have you. It’s your decision, of course, but I think you should consider telling him. You never know, he might feel the same way and god knows you both deserve some happiness in your lives.”

“I’ll think about it” He said, finally 

Robin sighs “You won’t, but thanks for saying it anyway. Are you sure you don’t need to have a gay crisis with me?”

It makes him smile, which is probably exactly why she said it. He tries his best to shake off the melancholy before he answers.  “Not really. I mean. I’ve always found some guys attractive. I just thought it was like, objectively? But I guess not. It doesn't matter to me that he’s a guy, I just love him.”

They talk for a while longer, until it gets late enough that he thinks Eddie might start looking for him. As usual, by the time they hang up he is actually feeling somewhat better. It feels good to have said it out loud, for someone else to know.

-

Steve could not have been more shocked when Eddie asked to come along with him to go shopping. He hadn’t really spent any time in public since getting out of the hospital, and Steve was really worried about what it would do to Eddie if people reacted badly to his presence.  They had been living in their own world here, and maybe he was overreacting, but Steve felt like this could be the beginning of the end of that.

Turns out, Eddie’s reaction wasn’t the one he should have been worried about. As they reentered the house arms laden with heavy bags, Steve couldn’t stop replaying the whole thing in his head. 

He’d wanted to beat the shit out of Andy for talking about Eddie like that, for looking at him like that. Had Eddie not stopped him, Steve would have done it too, right there in the middle of the cereal aisle and not given one single fuck about it.

Steve can’t stop looking at him as they deal with the groceries. He is so impressed with the way Eddie handled things today, and he can’ deny that before the shit hit the fan with Andy, he had been living in domestic fantasy bliss watching Eddie push the cart and sharing a little banter about their respective food choices.

He’s not sure what his face is doing, but when Eddie looks up he completely misreads it.

He thinks Steve is worried about him. Which, of course, he always worries about Eddie, but not this time. He apologizes anyway, he can’t tell Eddie what he had really been thinking. 

But then Eddie drops a bomb on him and his face is so sincere as he asks the question that Steve’s resolve to keep his feelings to himself crumbles.

“I have to ask, and I swear I'm not being a dick this time, I just really don’t understand. Why do all of this for me, why do you care so much?”  

He knows he should talk, explain, but words fail him. There is no combination of letters that he can find in that moment that could possibly express to Eddie how Steve feels about him. Instead he steps into Eddie’s space. He moves slowly, carefully, whether due to his own nerves, or to give Eddie the chance to pull away, he isn’t sure. 

He presses his lips to Eddie's and it’s everything . 

His lips are even softer than Steve had imagined and he thinks he gets it now, what people mean when they say they felt sparks kissing someone they really love. He’d once told Dustin to go for it when you feel the electricity. He’d honestly thought it was just a metaphor but every nerve ending in his body is on fire and he really truly understands it now. 

The feeling of his mouth pressed to Eddie’s is so amazing that it takes a long moment for Steve to realize that Eddie isn’t kissing him back . Oh fuck .

Steve jerks back, can feel the blood rapidly draining from his face. He raises his hands, palms up, as he backs away.

“I…i’m so sorry…” Steve stutters, panic rising.

Eddie is staring at him, not saying anything and Steve has never wanted to run away screaming more than he does right now.

“I, um. I just need a minute” Eddie finally says, backing away towards the stairs. A few seconds later Steve hears a bedroom door slam, and he just knows he’s fucked this all up. 

He sinks to the floor, back up against the cabinets, knees drawn to his chest.

Eddie is probably up there packing. How could he be so stupid. 

He’s not sure how long he’s been sitting there when Eddie plops down beside him on the floor. He’d been so deep in his own head that he hadn’t heard him coming. 

He keeps his gaze firmly fixed on the floor, can’t bring himself to see whatever look might be on Eddie’s face. 

“Steve, I promise everything is okay. You just…you surprised me. Will you look at me, please?”

He does. He finally looks up, and instantly regrets it. Eddie’s expression is an unreadable mask. It leaves Steve feeling off kilter. He would almost prefer to see anger there, at least then he’d have an idea of what Eddie’s thinking. 

“I guess it wasn’t a good surprise?”

Eddie softens a little, offering Steve a sad sort of smile. He doesn’t answer the question, instead asks one of his own. “I thought, and I know I shouldn’t assume but, I thought you were straight?”

Steve looks away, shrugging. “Apparently not. As it turns out”

Eddie takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly. “Okay. Well that is great, um. Thank you for telling me.” The words are right but his tone is flat, dead. He hardly sounds like Eddie at all. 

“Are you mad? Do you hate me?” Steve whispers, hates how pathetic he sounds.

Eddie’s face falls, the strange neutral mask gone like it had never been there. His eyes are wide and he looks horrified. “God no! Of course not. I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have just walked away from you, I… needed to think.”

Steve takes a deep breath of his own, letting it out as he wraps his arms tightly around his knees. “Okay” He says finally, “and did you come to any conclusions?”

Eddie looks down into his lap, suddenly fascinated with his own hands and fiddling with the rings there. “Steve I’m… god, flattered is an understatement. You are one of the best people I have ever known and I feel so incredibly lucky to have you as a friend, but I can’t do this. I’m gonna say something and I really need you to hear me. Please believe me that it has nothing to do with you, this is all me, okay?”

Oh god. It’s not you, it’s me . Steve quickly plasters a smile on his face, prays that it hides the fact that he is dying on the inside. 

The thing is, deep down, Steve gets it – but he also doesn’t. It makes perfect sense that after everything he’s been through, Eddie wouldn’t be ready to get romantically involved with anyone, but Steve can’t help but feel the rejection deep in his soul. There's no room for logic in the face of this pain.  He’s been turned down by a lot of girls. It never bothered him, not really. He always put on a show about it, mostly to entertain Robin, but he never cared enough to be hurt by it. 

Determined not to make any of this Eddie’s problem, Steve reinforces his smile, working hard to push it up into his eyes. He tells him it’s fine, that he understands. It must be a convincing act, as Eddie sags in relief. 

He jumps up, a moment later, extending a hand to help Steve stand, and together they finish the process of putting the groceries away. 

There’s a touch of awkwardness now as they move around each other, out of step in a way they weren’t before. Steve still itches with the need to escape, would love nothing more than to hide in his room and maybe call Robin but he doesn’t want to make things any weirder than he already has. 

Eventually Eddie breaks the silence that has settled between them. “Do you think the kids would want to come over tonight? I feel like it’s time for me to try and make up for ruining your last party.”

Steve sputters for a moment. It’s so unexpected that he doesn’t know how to respond at first. It’s a great idea really. The kids have been dying to see Eddie again. They didn’t know all of what had happened the last time the group got together but they weren’t stupid. They knew something bad had happened, that it had involved Eddie, and then they had all gotten kicked out. It was honestly a wonder that none of them had shown up yet demanding answers at this point. He probably had Nancy to thank for that. 

It could also be exactly what they needed right now. A buffer, a distraction, something to focus on instead of Steve’s horrifying lapse in judgment.

“I think they would love that,” Is the response Steve settles on. “Why don’t you give Dustin a call, he’d be thrilled to hear from you and he can help gather the troops.”

Eddie nods and moves to grab the receiver from where it hangs on the wall.

Before he can dial, Steve asks, “Would you mind if Robin came too?”

“We don’t have to have all the older group over, just her.” He’s quick to add.

“Sure Stevie. I guess I probably owe Buckley a bit of an apology too, huh?”

Stevie.  

The nickname would usually make him feel all warm and fuzzy inside, now it made his stomach turn sour. How was he ever going to get over this? At least he’ll have Robin with him tonight. Hopefully he will get the chance to talk to her alone, tell her what he did, what an idiot he is.

Part 7

#steddie #steddie fanfic #steve harrington/eddie munson #stranger things #steve x eddie #ao3 #eddie munson #steve harrington #ao3 link #fanfic #alternating pov #steddie fanfiction #CITU

[parcequecestnotreprojeeeet]

Someone wanted a story about how he thinks she's breaking up with him. So back to the early days of their relationship. Your Strawberry

An inexplicable reaction

He found it hard to think of anything but her. Ever since he knew she felt the same way about him as he did about her, he wanted to be with her all the time. But that wasn't possible, because she had a husband and children. Even if she only lived with her husband for the sake of the children, they had to hide their love for each other and the more time passed, the more difficult it became. He felt that the stolen moments were no longer enough for him.

Today they would be writing the play together again and he was looking forward to spending time with her. But at the afternoon play rehearsal, she informed him that she didn't have time today. She had told him in passing, not really looking at him. Since they weren't alone, he couldn't say anything back. He had tried to talk to her in private after the rehearsal, but she had deftly avoided him.

He couldn't explain her behaviour and felt the fear that she didn't want to know anything more about him. He wondered what had happened to make her react like that. Since he just couldn't stand it at home, he strolled through the streets and without having consciously taken the path, his legs carried him to her house. Before he turned into her street, he stopped, startled, and looked around the corner.

A few metres away was the house where she lived. His gaze was magically drawn to it. He saw that the front door was open and wondered. Then her husband stepped out hurriedly. He had a box in his arms, which he loaded into his car. He had the feeling that something was wrong. After a short while, her husband came out of the house again with a cardboard box, then with a travelling bag and finally with a suitcase. His heart began to beat faster when he saw her in the open doorway.

She had her arms folded in front of her body. It was unfortunately too far away to see her face, but he notice her say something to her husband. He came back a little to her and he could tell by his posture and hand gesture that he was angry. She flinched away from him and he had a very strange feeling. What was he seeing right now?

A moment later, her husband got into the car and drove off in the opposite direction. She looked after him and then suddenly she turned in his direction. She looked directly at him and shook her head so clearly that he understood what she was trying to tell him. She turned again, entered her house and closed the door.

He leaned against the wall of the house and took several deep breaths. His brain began to work and bit by bit he tried to understand what he had seen. Did her husband know about them? Had he perhaps just seen him move out? His heart began to beat faster and faster, but not with joy, but with fear. She did not want him to visit her and just now she had made it clear that he was not wanted.

But he couldn't go home without knowing what had really happened. He had to at least try to talk to her. For a brief moment, he closed his eyes to collect himself. Then he pushed himself off the wall of the house and turned the corner of the street. He walked quickly along the path to her house that he had walked so many times before. However, he had never been so afraid to do so.

He pressed the doorbell and waited. Contrary to his suspicions, she actually opened the door for him. "I knew you'd come anyway," she said resignedly and made room for him to enter. Indecisively, he stopped in the hallway. She looked at him with a sad expression and automatically he opened his arms. The next moment she was lying in them and he felt her body tremble. He realised that she was crying and felt completely helpless.

Tenderly, he stroked her back and asked softly, "What happened?" His words must have got through to her because she broke away from him. Hectically, she wiped away her tears. To stop her, he took her face in his hands and looked at her questioningly. She dropped her arms and returned his gaze.

"I told him about us yesterday," she began haltingly. Dumbfounded, he looked at her and countless questions came to his mind. But he kept silent, for he wanted to let her finish first. "Then we talked to the children. They don't know the reason for our separation. He didn't want to live here any longer, so he moved out today. The children didn't want to be there, so I'm alone. They were angry," she finished and he saw a tear run down her cheek.

He knew that was only a summary of what she had experienced since yesterday. Still, he had to ask a question. "Is it over between us now too?" he asked in a failing voice. Vehemently she shook her head so that he let go of her head. "No, but I had to do this. I couldn't have gone on living like this," she explained. "I'm sorry for the way I treated you today. But I was overwhelmed with everything and I didn't want to drag you into it." He smiled. "I'm in this story as much as you are," he teased, pulling her close and giving her a gentle kiss.

Helloo sweet 🍓! ❤️

You always find an interesting way to answer to the fanfic requests and I like your twists and turns and how you work around it. And I like even more when it get us back to the beginnings! I will never get tired of reading all the variations of it.

Thank you so much, Strawberry! ❤️❤️❤️

#fanfic #strawberry

[remoony-lupin]

chapter 1 - the boy in the bookshop

(this is on my ao3 - the fic is called 'the moonage daydream to his lady stardust')

remus lupin woke up to a cold and bright january morning. he’d always had a thing for blue skies, waking up when there was a patch of light shining through his cotton curtains, with the feeling that the day was going to be a good one. he didn’t know it yet, but this day was going to be better - well, at least the best he could hope for. remus got out of bed, searching for the socks he’d discarded on the floor the previous night, and slipped them on as he walked towards the windows. he opened the curtains and let a bright stream of light enter the room, showering it in pretty little patterns and rainbows. the sky was all blues and pinks and purples and fluffs of clouds streaked across the sky, as though someone had drawn them with a paintbrush.

the apartment had only been his for 3 months, but it already felt like home. on coming to london, he’d bought various things from home like his record collection, his plants (stuart, kiki, and jeff), an inexplicable amount of mugs and a couple of books that he’d accumulated over the years. however, remus had always been looking to grow his collection. books were a safe space for him; a world where he could be anyone and anything, live in the biggest castles, the prettiest cottages, watch someone else grow and go through the phases he was going through. classics allowed him to feel a sense of solidarity and connection with those from the past, fantasy let him be the most confident, strongest, beautiful person and poetry let him see that he wasn’t alone - the fact that he could read and hold someone’s experiences and hopes and fears in his very own hands made him feel, well, it made him feel-

“boo!” a hand grabbed him by his shoulder.

“fuck me.” he whispered.

he turned round to face his flatmate lily.

“i was calling out for you, y’know.”

“shit. sorry. didn’t hear you.” he said, pulling her into a hug.

“daydreaming again?”

“you know me too well,” he grinned. “anyway, what did you want?”

“well, i was wondering if you had anything to say to me.”

remus mind buzzed. fuck, he thought, what have i forgotten this time? he’d remembered to lock the door when he came home from work, he’d put out the bins, cleaned the kitchen, made lily’s cake-

“fuck! happy birthday.”

“there we go.” she laughed.

“i’m so sorry. i was just thinking about… well, you know. and only just got up.”

“excuse me,” she mocked. “do you mean to say that you don’t spend every waking moment thinking about me?”

remus laughed. “of course i do, lilyflower, of course. how could i not? just look at you, with your ravishing looks, and pretty ginger hair, and intellect. and your obsession with loving people that are way below you.”

“you flatter me, remus. always the charmer.” she giggled.

remus’ stomach growled.

“ooo, someone’s hungry.” she said. “and don’t worry about breakfast. i took the liberty of cooking for both of us on my special day. i knew you’d be tired.” she smiled, hugging him.

after a breakfast of pancakes coated in too much nutella than remus would like to admit, he showered, brushed his hair (only to mess it up again), threw on a band t-shirt, jumper, jeans, patterned socks and docs, said goodbye to lily and left for the day.

thanks to his brain and stupid boss making him work an extra shift at the concert venue, remus had forgotten to buy lily’s present. he’d always been a last-minute kind of person, but he was really pushing it this time. remus has known lily since he was 14 when they bumped into each other on accident, whilst reading a book. hers had been pride and prejudice and his had been maurice. they’d been heading to the same english class and soon became the best of friends. they sat by one another every lesson, recommended books and music, and had been remus’ only friend forever. when he was 16, and felt ready enough, he came out to her as bisexual. and then, once lily was ready, so did she. for a while, people had thought they were a couple and, in fairness, remus had thought about it once or twice, but they were better as friends. platonic love was just perfect.

remus stopped outside the bookshop. it was his favourite and he always found the cheapest books with the best stories and sweetest covers. it was a run-down kind of place, vintage, one could call it, and had a comforting and warm air to it - which remus liked.

he stepped inside and the bell rang.

a boy looked up from the counter, one he hadn’t seen before. tattoos snaked up his arms. his ears were covered in small rings, studs and loops, particularly round his helix. a leather jacket sat on the chair behind him and remus assumed it was his. he had beautiful shiny blacked hair that was tied up in a messy bun with a pencil through it at the back of his head. remus’ eyes moved down towards his hands, which were adorned in silver rings. and his eyes seemed to glow with a kind of dark but soft energy.

fuck. me. he thought.

“can i help you?” the boy asked.

“errm, no. i think. yeah. i’m fine. all good. just, yeah, just looking.” he stuttered, his face burning up.

“alright, cool. well, let me know if you need anything.” grinned the boy, revealing a ring at the top of his teeth.

“gay. i mean, okay…”

oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. what the fuck was that? remus was sure the boy could see him blushing, not even in a cute way. just bright fucking red.

anyway, he could not let a cute boy - the hottest man he had ever seen in his life stop him now. he was on a mission and would not leave the shop until he was done.

he looked around the shop, thinking about lily. she was usually a classics type, liked old romances - but not the kind where the woman takes a passive role. the sort where she fought against her society, against the men and the time, and, although you knew she’d end up with a man, it was the journey she liked. now all remus had to do was find it.

he went over to the classics section and scanned the shelf. boring, gay, women, boring, too long, read already, gay, boring, sexist, genuinely awful and gay. clearly, the classics shelf had a lot to offer. remus ran a hand through his hair; this was going to be harder than her thought.

“are you sure you don’t need help?” asked the boy at the counter.

“ha, might take you up on that offer.” remus smiled.

“the strain of choosing a book, i feel you.” he said, walking over to remus.

“yeah, i know. i can never choose one. always end up spending hours in here, going over the pages.”

“well, what kind of thing are you looking for?”

“it’s a present for a friend. i kind of forgot it was today ‘cus i was gonna come yesterday but i had to work late because my boss is a dick and then i spilled curry on myself at 3am and cried and went to bed instead.”

fuck, he always did this, always overshared to the most random people at the most awkward times, great coping mechanism, right?

“sounds rough.” he said, giving remus a sympathetic smile. “almost as bad as mine.”

“oh?”

“yeah. i woke up late, missed the bus, which made me late for class, got shouted at by the teacher, forgot my homework, got shouted at again, cried in front of the class, stormed out, lost my keys, had to sleep at my mate’s house, listened to him and his girlfriend the whole night, watched eyeliner tutorials until 6am, got up for work, cried again, and i think that’s about it.”

“shit. slightly worse than mine,” he nudged. “but at least you didn’t spill curry on yourself.”

“no point crying over spilled curry.” the boy shrugged.

“too late for that.” remus laughed.

the boy laughed too.

remus smiled.

“anyway, you said you were looking for a book for your friend?”

“Yeah.”

“what kind of stuff do they like?”

“usually classics, with a female, feminist protagonist, something with enemies to lovers or friends to lovers, and where men don’t dominate the whole scene.”

“pretty specific,” the boy laughed under his breath. “but, i think i might have something.”

remus watched his eyes as he laced a finger across the shelf. they seemed golden in the light. and it was cute. really, really cute.

“ah-ha.” he said, pulling one out.

“little women.”

“little women indeed. have you read it?”

“yeah, a while back though, i think.”

“well, if your friend likes what i think they do, then she should really like this. it’s pretty beautiful and the story’s good and it’s very female-lead. yeah. should work.” he smiled.

“okay, cool. well, i’ll take it. how much?” he said, pulling his card out and walking over to the counter.

“usually 12 pounds. but i’ll do it for seven. because you look desperate. and cute.”

what? what the actual fuck? cute. this man. this fucking man had just called him cute. remus could have cried right there and then.

“haha, cool.” he said, trying to play it off.

he swiped his card on the machine.

“do you want me to wrap it for you? i can even put a bow on it, if you want.”

“yeah, sure. she’d like that. i’m shit at wrapping presents anyway.”

the boy picked up a roll of brown paper from behind him and cut a piece to fit the book, wrapping the paper around it and sealing it with tape.

“ooo, which ribbon?” he asked, showing remus blue, red and green rolls.

“the green.”

“good choice. my personal favourite.”

remus watched as the boy’s fingers looped the perfect bow of forest green. he went to take the book.

“oh, wait. hang on.” he reached up and pulled out the pencil that was holding his hair up. it all came tumbling down in a swath of shiny black and the boy shook it out of his face.

as if this man could not get any more pretty, remus thought.

the boy doodled a little smiley face and kiss on the paper.

“courtesy of yours truly.” he bowed.

“fabulous.” remus chuckled.

“have a good day cutie.” the boy waved as remus started to leave the shop.

“you too.” remus sighed.

and left the shop feeling a whole lot happier than he had done this morning. this boy had called him cute. this beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy had called him cute. and remus held on to that until the next time he saw him.

[compofworksbybailey]

Hillside Love- By Bailey Matrix

Once upon a time, in a small town nestled in the rolling hills of the countryside, there were two people who had despised each other for as long as they could remember. Their names were Emma and James, and their animosity towards each other was well-known throughout the town. They were like oil and water, constantly clashing and causing tension whenever they crossed paths.

Emma was a fiery and independent woman, known for her strong opinions and unwavering determination. She had always been the type to speak her mind and never back down from a challenge. James, on the other hand, was a reserved and stoic man, known for his quiet confidence and unwavering work ethic. He had always been the type to keep to himself and avoid confrontation whenever possible.

Their feud had started back in high school, when they were both competing for the top spot in their class. Their rivalry had only intensified over the years, as they continued to cross paths in various social and professional circles. It seemed as though they were destined to be enemies forever, until one fateful day, when a twist of fate brought them closer together than they could have ever imagined.

It all started when James decided to move into the house next door to Emma. At first, she couldn't believe her bad luck. She had always cherished her privacy and independence, and the last thing she wanted was to live next door to her arch-nemesis. However, as time went on, she began to notice something strange happening. James seemed different somehow, more approachable and kinder than she had ever seen him before.

As they crossed paths more and more often, Emma couldn't help but notice the way James would smile at her and make small talk whenever they bumped into each other. She found herself feeling strangely drawn to him, despite her years of resentment towards him. James, too, found himself inexplicably drawn to Emma, despite their long history of animosity.

Slowly but surely, they began to let go of their past grievances and open up to each other. They discovered that they had more in common than they had ever realized, and they found themselves enjoying each other's company more and more with each passing day. It was as if the universe had conspired to bring them together, despite their years of hating each other.

Before they knew it, Emma and James had become inseparable. They would spend hours talking and laughing together, and they found themselves falling deeply in love with each other. It was as if all of their past hatred had melted away, leaving behind a deep and abiding love that neither of them had ever experienced before.

Their love story quickly became the talk of the town, as everyone marveled at the incredible transformation that had taken place between the two former enemies. Emma and James couldn't have been happier, as they reveled in the joy of their newfound love and the knowledge that they had finally found their soulmate in each other.

In the end, their story serves as a powerful reminder that love has the power to conquer even the deepest of animosities. Emma and James had proven that sometimes, the people we least expect can become the most important and cherished parts of our lives. Their journey from enemies to lovers is a testament to the transformative power of love, and a reminder that anything is possible when two hearts are open to the possibility of love.

[dr3amofagame]

I really love when people write about c!wilbur manipulating c!dream so I was wondering if you could write on about the smp realizing that c!wilbur manipulated c!dream into being a lap dog for him but a hell lot of trouble for then and if you could add c!wilbur taking advantage of the fact that dream is a god during a fight that would make my day. Hope you have a great day.thank you. Love your work.

ooh yeah - c!wilbur is back and GGG-ing as good as ever, , which Really makes you think abt what it’s gonna be like when he interacts with c!dream again. this ended up being a little more c!sapnap centric than i intended, hope that’s alright haha. (and thank you so much for the kind words!) 

tw: implied abuse, torture, drowning, dismemberment, manipulation, unhealthy relationships, emotional distress, dark content, prison arc/pandora’s vault, c!sapnap critical? not really?, dark portrayal of c!wilbur (typical MAD duo shenanigans)

Sapnap isn’t expecting to find anyone when he storms out in the middle of the night - he’s tense, they all are after the fiasco at the prison, but really his thoughts are filled with Karl once again going inexplicably radio silent for days on end and Quackity ignoring all of his questions with a simple “i’m busy” that he’d failed to follow up even twelve hours later, so Dream and Wilbur and whatever the hell happened that left Pandora’s Vault - obsidian, indestructible, tall and dark and proud - half-crumbled and sunken into the sea are just about the last things on his mind.  

Even so, he’s not an idiot, so he had enough foresight to pack a few potions and gather his armor and weapons before stepping into the summer night - it’s cool under the moonlight, a soft breeze cutting through the otherwise stifling weight of the humid air, and the comfortable night is enough to make his anger die down, just a little. Kinoko Kingdom glows soft and warm from the lanterns Foolish had scattered all over the place, thick with the earthy smell of fungus and flowers, and he takes a deep breath before walking to the city outskirts to hopefully clear his mind.

He’s no stranger to late-night walks; his temper had always been fiery, even as a child, and he’d figured out pretty early on that the easiest way to deal with it was to walk or run until his brain was too tired to think anymore. Walking at night also meant he could take out some of his frustration on mobs as well as the satisfaction of setting a random patch of forest on fire without worrying about burning down someone else’s property, and once he got good enough with a sword and shield to come and go relatively unscathed, Bad had stopped his worrying enough to let him do whatever as long as he came back in time in the morning. Sapnap frowns as he hacks at a random branch in his way with an axe, watching as it falls in a spray of leaves and crashes to the ground; he hasn’t seen Bad in a while, not since he became obsessed with the whole Egg thing. Quackity had mentioned some cryptic things, and Karl was adamant that they avoid the Egg as much as possible, but he probably should’ve at least visited, or something. Bad always knew what to say when it came to messy things like this.

Though - Sapnap laughs wryly - it’d never been this bad, before. Karl distant and absent, Q somehow even more so with a new glint to his gaze that sent a shiver down his spine. George, usually asleep, never around, expression perpetually foggy like he doesn’t know where he was. Dream- evil, insane, awful, somehow so familiar it hurt and too much of a stranger to recognize. He wonders when it all got this bad. He wonders what it says about himself, that he didn’t notice until it was far too late.

“Fancy seeing you out here.”

Sapnap whirls around, sword drawn; the figure staring back at him doesn’t even flinch. His eyes narrow at the sight, stance widening, shoulders tense.

“Wilbur?” He keeps his voice wary, guarded, trying his best to keep surprise from coloring his tone. Wilbur grins at him, tight-lipped, the planes of his face faintly lit by the moon shining over them, facial features only barely visible in the dim light. Without really meaning to, Sapnap cranes his head to look around at the surrounding forest, but nothing moves or makes itself known outside of the figure still staring at him, smirking. “What- what are you doing here?”

And where’s Dream?

Because Sapnap might not know much about what went down at the prison and what Dream’s plans are and the whole mess that he’d been so desperate to put behind him and utterly failed at doing so, but what he does know is that the two of them - Dream and Wilbur, Wilbur and Dream - had been all but inseparable, strangely attached to each other in a way that spelled out nothing but trouble for the rest of them. The rest of the server had been compiling sightings of the two in the hopes of being able to stop whatever it was that they had planned, but Sapnap knows his former friend, brother, and even if he doesn’t know Wilbur, his reputation more than precedes him: the two of them are smart, not to mention paranoid as fuck, and the rest of them have a better shot shooting targets in the dark than figuring out whatever the hell was going on in their heads with the two of them working together. Either way, he knows that they’d never been sighted apart - it was always Wilbur standing on a hill with Dream sitting next to him, or Dream hacking through mobs as Wilbur followed, or the two of them stepping into a fortress and leaving minutes after - until now.

“Could ask the same of you,” Wilbur laughs, just a shade to the left of friendly, and the moonlight scatters through the leaves and glints off his glasses. “Don’t be so tense, man! I’m just going on a walk, thought I’d enjoy the night. Didn’t see anything like this in Limbo, you know.”

Sapnap winces at the reminder, that Wilbur is here and alive in defiance of law and reason and the universe itself, but Wilbur barrels on, seeming unaware of his unease.

“Anyway - how are you doing, man? Haven’t seen you around in a while.” He leans back, hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets, stance loose, relaxed. “I’d ask Dream, but he’s been in prison for a bit, you know? Most of what he knows is pretty - ah, outdated, not that I tell him that.”

“What are you planning?” Sapnap snaps, grip tightening around the handle of his sword. “You and Dream. What do you want?”

“Who’s to say we want anything?” Wilbur seems to grin wider, and the expression on his face is unsettling, makes something cold slither up his spine. He shakes his head to rid himself of the feeling, half-wishing it was brighter so he could better see the other’s eyes.

“I mean-” he stutters. Because Dream always wants, he almost says, bitter and angry, that all-too-familar swell of betrayal rising in his chest at Dream, forever insatiated, forever wanting, forever looking for more more more. Because if he were to escape, and if he were to want nothing, then what did that mean for the rest of them? Because if he didn’t want, if he wasn’t left wanting, then did Sapnap ever mean anything at all? The thoughts stick to his skull like tar, words clinging to the roof of his mouth as it goes dry. Wilbur seems to stare at him, unimpressed, and he feels his face go hot.

“He’s not- he’s dangerous, you know,” Sapnap says instead of answering, because untangling the awful, knotted feelings that make up his remaining ties with Dream, half-frayed and neglected and forgotten, is more work than he can handle and more emotions than he has the energy to bear. It doesn’t matter, in the end, because Dream is still dangerous; he knows that, resolutely, and maybe it’s lucky, that he found Wilbur without Dream whispering plans and manipulations and meaningless words by his side. It’ll give him a chance to warn Wilbur, bring him back to their side instead of risking his life (again) in the company of his friend-turned-tyrant. Dream is dangerous, whether he wants or not, because Dream is Dream and he’s been in too many manhunts to face him with anything less than one hundred percent confidence. “You don’t want to be with him, Wilbur. He’s hurt- so many people.”

Wilbur’s expression doesn’t change, seeming as indifferent to the words as ever; if anything, he looks a little amused. “Really,” he hums, almost to himself. “Dangerous, you say?”

“He’s Dream,” Sapnap insists, because it’s the truth, and it’s the simplicity of it, really. It’s Dream, and Dream is dangerous whether he’s on your side or not, forever ruthless and unheeding as long as he gets what he wants. He’d been in Wilbur’s place, once, convinced that Dream’s strategies and planning and infallible logic had meant they had no way of losing. He knows better, now. “You’ve fought him before! He doesn’t care about you. He doesn’t care about anything.”

And if the words are a little more bitter than they should be when he says that, who but he is going to notice?

Wilbur’s eyes stay on his, completely silent, expression unreadable. The quiet gets awkward quickly, Wilbur’s expression seeming unchanging, nothing but the faint rustling of the leaves around them to break the stillness of the air, and Sapnap feels his gut roll uncomfortably as he looks off to the ground, waiting for Wilbur to react in some way, any way. It’s hard, he knows, to realize that someone you thought was on your side had been using you the entire time, he’s been there before and he gets it, but- it’s still strange, how still Wilbur has become. How he still hasn’t reacted - is his expression going to change?

And suddenly, starting quiet and then swelling in volume, Wilbur begins to laugh.

“Goodness,” Wilbur drawls through his chuckles, voice low and dark and sending chills down his back. “I thought he was exaggerating, man - you really do hate him, don’t you?”

“What- what’s so funny?”

Wilbur smiles, teeth flashing white as the faint light from the moon bounces off of them, “I have to give you my thanks, truly. I’d thought that Quackity did the most of it, or Sam, but you- I really couldn’t have guessed.”

Sapnap’s head is spinning. Wilbur’s expression is positively gleeful, eyes dancing, smile wide and brilliant, bouncing from one name to another with little explanation to how any of them tie together. Sam? Quackity? Nothing is making sense. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Oh Sapnap,” Wilbur croons. “You really don’t know, do you?”

He twists his hand in a flippant gesture, eyes directed into the forest surrounding them.

“Let’s just say that his, ah- stay, in Pandora, wasn’t exactly what I’d call a five-star experience. But you know that, don’t you?” Wilbur directs a flat smile his way, and Sapnap swallows, throat dry. Briefly, images flash behind his eyes - walls, dripping with crying obsidian, the lava’s heat hard to bear at his back, even for him, mining fatigue pulling at his limbs and making them heavy. How startlingly bare the cell had been, even through the haze of his anger, Dream, slumped in a corner of the cell, barely moving, barely even breathing as it seemed sometimes, sunken-in cheeks and sagging shoulders speaking of nothing but a bone-deep exhaustion. “Apparently, being psychologically and physically tortured for months on end has an interesting effect on the human psyche. Even more so when, say, your best friend comes once in the entire time to tell you that he’ll kill you if you ever try to escape.”

“How-” he trips on his own words, lungs seizing, “how do you know that?”

“He tells me things. A lot of things, really. Did you know it takes one and a half regen potions to reattach an arm after it’s been cut off? It takes three and a half for a leg, he thinks, but the blood loss made it rather hard to remember.” Wilbur steps forward. “Did you know that scars created by healing potions tend to be much thicker and more prominent than those made by regens? Or that he can hold his breath for a little more than two minutes before passing out?” Wilbur smirks, jagged, threatening. “Did you know that I can tell him just about everything, and he’ll believe me because there’s no one else to tell him otherwise?”

“Wh- what?”

“I’ll be sure to tell him what you said; I’m sure he’ll love to hear how his brother is doing.” Wilbur waves. “And when you see Quackity, be sure to give him my thanks, will you?”

“Wilbur, what- come back-”

And with a flash of purple particles, Wilbur disappears, leaving Sapnap alone in the middle of the forest. Stasis chamber. His heart pounds in his ears, breathing all-too-loud, and he stares desperately at the empty space where Wilbur had stood like it’ll bring him back again.

Fuck, he swipes his hand across his face, startled when it comes back wet. What does he do now?

#tw abuse #tw torture #tw drowning #tw dismemberment #tw manipulation #tw unhealthy relationship #tw emotional distress #tw dark content #prison arc #pandora's vault #c!sapnap critical #mutually assured destruction #my asks !! #-> my asks #my writing :D #-> my writing

[a-flickering-soul]

EverymanHYBRID And Deer In Media: In Five Parts (click for individual comparisons)

Deer are both a symbol of fragile purity and the untamable wild–here, we examine deer in the context of man, where deer come to represent the urge within us to abandon the conscious ego for the subconscious id. The deer is a symbol, too, of rebirth, of transformation, of shedding and regrowing its weapons each year. To kill, to be reborn, to choose to be monstrous through our proximity to humanity. Is there not something pure in surrendering to animal instinct? If deer are the twin themes of innocence and wildness, then we in turn are the juxtaposition of humanity and monstrousness–our actions made monstrous by the attempt to temper them with humanity.

(transcript, analysis, and sources below cut)

1: The Secret History & EverymanHYBRID--Bodies

The Secret History, on the killing of a man in a hallucinatory bacchanal:

"'Henry,' I said at last. 'Good God.' "He raised an eyebrow. 'Really, it was more upsetting than you can realize,' he said. 'Once I hit a deer with my car. It was a beautiful creature and to see it struggling, blood everywhere, legs broken ... And this was even more distressing but at least I thought it was over. I never dreamed we'd hear anything else about it.'"

EverymanHYBRID, "Ryan and the SEVENTRIALSOFHABIT":

A shot of a deer's dead body at the side of the road at night, looking crumpled and not quite right. The captions read: "Jeff: It's a fucking deer, dude. (Evan: See it?) Yeah. Something cut its belly open. (Evan: It cut its belly open the wrong way.)"

Parallels drawn:

Consider this one an amuse-bouche. Henry draws comparisons between a man he killed to a deer he accidentally hit with a car, mildly naming the incident ‘distressing’. There is a lack of human empathy, of guilt over killing a fellow man. In comparison, Jeff, Evan, and Vinnie at this point in the EMH plotline have not yet become hunter or hunted–they have not yet been warped by their roles in this iteration and can acknowledge the upsetting nature of the events that befall them. Henry has tasted that amoral nature and is less human for it, more visibly willing to shed that veneer of attempting to care about other people. Jeff, Evan, and Vinnie have not yet reached that point.

2: “Whoso List to Hunt”, EverymanHYBRID, and The Secret History--The Chase

"Whoso List to Hunt", on hunting a fabled white hind:

"I am of them that farthest cometh behind./ Yet may I by no means my wearied mind/ Draw from the deer, but as she fleeth afore/ Fainting I follow. I leave off therefore,/ Sithens in a net I seek to hold the wind./ Who list her hunt, I put him out of doubt,/ As well as I may spend his time in vain. And graven with diamonds in letters plain/ There is written, her fair neck round about:/ Noli me tangere, for Caesar's I am,/ and wild to hold, though I seem tame."

EverymanHYBRID, "Slushpops and Surprises”

A shot of white text on a black page, "[Enter the tragic hero and his unattainable companion.]"

The Secret History, on hallucinations experienced during the bacchanal (bold for emphasis):

“‘Camilla said that during part of it, she’d believed she was a deer; and that was odd, too, because the rest of us remember chasing a deer through the woods, for miles it seemed. Actually it was miles. I know that for a fact. Apparently we ran and ran and ran, because when we came to ourselves we had no idea where we were.’”

EverymanHYBRID, “December & early January”:

A shot of Vinnie, hand covering his face in shock, as he sits and listens to Jessa’s last voicemail before she went missing. Jeff can be seen in the background, listening in silence. The captions read “[Jessa’s voice, recorded]: Steph, that thing you were talking about, I saw it...he’s real, he’s right here. What the hell does he want? I think he’s following me.”

Parallels drawn:

The deer symbolizes wild nature, something that man cannot obtain, touch, or capture without abandoning something of his own humanity. Similarly, deer represent the unattainable prey. Noli me tangere, says Caesar’s unattainable deer– touch me not, no matter how hard you may attempt to catch me. Jessa of EMH is deemed the unattainable companion and Jeff’s driving force to discover the truth behind the situation they’ve been placed in–it is Jessa, dangled in front of him after she goes missing, that leads Jeff down the path that inevitably leads to his own death after uncovering too much. The deer is to be chased, to be hunted, and never captured. Camilla from The Secret History believed herself to be a deer during the same hallucinatory bacchanal that cost a man his life, and led her brother and friends on a chase spanning miles. Jessa was hunted by an unknowable force, then used as bait to draw her partner down the path to his own death. Unattainability, the shape of something fleeing in front of you, elicits a powerful reaction to follow, to hunt, to chase. Jessa fell victim to that reaction. Camilla, and the white hind, did not.

3: The Myth of Diana and Actaeon, EverymanHYBRID, and The Secret History--Madness

The Diana and Actaeon Fountain at the Caserta Royal Palace:

The detail of the fountain shown depicts the pivotal scene in the myth of Actaeon and Artemis, where Actaeon, mid-transformation into a stag, is killed for the slight of viewing the goddess Artemis nude.The sculpture shows the transformation in no mercy, plain in its depiction of Actaeon’s pain and terror, and the simple ferocity of the hounds that surround him.

EverymanHYBRID, “May & June”:

A shot of Jeff, blood spattered across him, speaking with a shocked and angry tone. The captions read, “Jeff: Why were we doing that? That was...that’s not what we were looking for. We knew damned well that wasn’t what we were trying to kill. (Vince: Close enough.) It was a deer! It was a fucking deer! I tried to pull you off, you tried to punch me in the fucking face!”

The Secret History, on the Greeks’ view of beauty and terror (bold for emphasis):

“Beauty is terror. Whatever we call beautiful, we quiver before it. And what could be more terrifying and beautiful to souls like the Greeks or to our own, than to lose control completely? To throw off the chains of being for an instant, to shatter the accident of our mortal selves? Euripedes speaks of the Maenads: head thrown back, throat to the stars, ‘more like deer than human being’.”

Parallels drawn:

Most depictions of Actaeon, sculpture or painting, usually show him with antlers or a deer lower body, leaving his head and face a recognizable human shape. However, the sculptor here decided to subvert expectations and leave his body human, giving Actaeon the animal head of a stag. The loss of control and the descent from human to animal is not glorified or made palatable by the mere addition of a crown of antlers--there is only the one constant, fear, that follows him all the way down. Madness may be defined as a loss of control, and there may be something beautiful and terrifying in feeling your sanity slip through your own fingers. Jeff, Evan, and Vinnie are overtaken by brief, inexplicable madness and tear apart a deer as they come dangerously close to uncovering exactly who and what is hunting them. They skate close to seeing soemthing they shouldn't see. It is only Jeff who looks up, shocked by the blood on his hands, and voices his fear. Vinnie, apathetic, lets it go. But Evan, houndlike and irrational, defends his kill.

4: EverymanHYBRID & Hannibal--Warnings and Temptation

EverymanHYBRID, “May & June”:

A shot of Evan, spattered heavily with blood, standing with shoulders caved in protectively. His left hand is raised to his mouth, with his hair covering his eyes, and he is licking the blood off of his fingers.

“Shot Through The Hart, and Hannibal’s To Blame” (bold for emphasis):

“In my post about ravens, I talked about how it’s not always easy to tell what the Ravenstag really means. Is it evidence of the Hannibalesque elements of Will’s soul? Or a warning of those parts growing within him? Does the Ravenstag urge Will forward on his journey, or warn him of what’s to come?”

Hannibal, Season 1, Episode 1 “Aperitif”:

A shot of the Ravenstag, staring directly into the camera with one hoof up, as if to approach. There are black feathers interwoven with its pelt and its eyes have an uncanny shine.

Parallels drawn:

On a naturalistic note, deer are skittish creatures. They have thin legs and a sleek body, made for running. A small head and big eyes, placed wide-set to see coming predators. Keen ears. They are ready at any moment to sense danger, warn others, and flee. When a deer does not move, it is either safe or sizing up its options, either accepting where it is or preparing to run. Deer, staring directly at the viewer, come as a sympathetic warning to flee or, in its dark eyes and firm stance, a temptation. Me tangere, they say. Come closer. We are one and the same. In Bryan Fuller’s Hannibal, the commanding presence of the Ravenstag serves as both a warning and a beckoning temptation to turn his feet down the darker path. It is otherworldly, black-furred and feathered, and yet a warning of events rooted in the real world--does Will understand what danger he is in upon meeting Hannibal and take the warning, or will he ignore it, sensing that same darkness in himself, that same potential for corruption? In EverymanHYBRID, it is that same killing of a deer that hints at that same potential for darkness growing inside Evan. He licks at his fingers, animalistic, fully ignoring his own Ravenstag warning signs for the delight of the hunt. Is he Evan anymore? Or is something else growing inside him?

5: EverymanHYBRID & Hannibal--Predator and Prey, or the Final Act

EverymanHybrid, “:D”:

A shot of HABIT, looking up a set of stairs with one foot on the bottom step. In one hand down by his side, he is holding a knife. His posture is tilted forward, poised, ready to spring into action, like that of a hunter.

“Shot Through The Hart, and Hannibal’s To Blame” (bold for emphasis):

“The idea of deer as symbols of rebirth also stands out to me. Hannibal is a series obsessed with becoming and transformation. People start one way, and are reborn as something completely other by the end of the show. There’s even a character sewn up into a deceased pregnant horse in the hopes that when she’s released, she will be literally reborn as something different. It’s thus a neat fit, this significance of deer with the themes of the show.”

EverymanHYBRID, “:D”:

A shot of Jeff, looking up and to the side with an expression of caution and fear. His eyes are unnerved, squinting as, from offscreen, HABIT’s hand plays idly with his hat.

Parallels drawn:

The first and final incarnation of the deer is, of course, prey. Beyond and before any symbolism of innocence and wildness and warnings, deer are prey animals, to be hunted and devoured. And yet, in keeping with the concept of contrasting symbolism, deer are not helpless. Yearly, they shed and regrow their antlers in a transformation of horn and blood. At the climax of EverymanHYBRID, the final reveal, the final transformation, comes to fruition. HABIT, formerly Evan, takes its place as the Hunter, the archetypal predator, with Jeff shown most prominently as the Prey. Jeff’s luck has run its course, with him in the chair as the sacrificial prey-victim to fall to HABIT’s knife. HABIT, reborn, reiterated, made incarnate through Evan’s unwilling transformation, is poised to start the hunt. This is the big reveal, the crux of the transformation, Actaeon caught mid-transfiguration and the bloody sloughing-off of velvet humanity to reveal perfect and gleaming antlers. This is what it comes down to, time and time again. The hunter and the hunted. The wilderness embraced and the wilderness captured, and the monstrosity in that act.

Works Cited

Callimachus. Actaeon and Artemis. C. 220 BC

Fuller, Bryan. “Apetirif.” Hannibal, season 1, episode 1, NBC, 4 Apr. 2013.

Koval, J., Caffarello, V., &; Jennings, E. (Directors). (2011, July 12). May & June [Video file].

Koval, J., Caffarello, V., &; Jennings, E. (Directors). (2012, October 9). :D [Video file].

Tartt, Donna. The Secret History. Penguin, 2006.

Uhminuh. “Shot Through the Hart, and Hannibal's to Blame.” Read the Rude, Wordpress, 19 July 2020.

Wyatt, Thomas. “Whoso List to Hunt, I Know where is an Hind.” c. 1530.

Honorary mention to this fanart by @/rrhaes that started this whole spiral

#emh #everymanhybrid #flickerthoughts #flicker wrote this #i'm serious when i say this has been brewing in my head for a calendar year #i finally pieced it together at the beginning of this week and it's STILL incomprehensible but i think the vibes are there #emh my beloved emh and the themes and motifs and symbolism that exists in my head #i have a love hate relationship w the secret history but i put it all in here #also i am two eps deep in hannibal but i think i got the gist idk #anyways i want you all to know i REALLY wanted to work in the iphigenia/steph parallels but it just didn't make sense in this context #maybe i'll post it later idk but!!! here take this #in keeping with the theme of my best literary analysis showing up when i'm at my breaking point wrt life #this :handshake: reylux parallels post -- created under emotional duress #i rly wanna do one that's like 'slenderverse women + being followed' bc that's a FEELING. #if i am saying the emh boys are actaeon torn to shreds by their own dogs after they hunt the wrong prey.....that's my business lmao #should i tag the other stuff? here i'll tag em here so they don't show up in search #hannibal #the secret history #flicker's meta