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orchidyoonkook · 7 months

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The Devil Wears Valentino | MYG

Title: The Devil Wears Valentino

Pairing: Devil!Min Yoongi x (F)!Reader

Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Spooky AU, Supernatural Creatures AU, Not Quite Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Technically Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Fluff

Summary: Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm.

Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.

And obnoxiously flirty.

Warnings: language, violence, tae is a menance, drinking and alcohol, Min Yoongi as the Devil -> Lucifer Morningstar? we dont know him, mentions of murder, mentions of torture, mentions of rape -> Sal's an ass and he deserved what he got, somewhat graphic gore/horror (yoon tries her best but she's not very good at spooky), slight POV switches, one (1) mention of reader having hair, fluffy in parts,

Explicit warnings under the cut.

Word Count: 10,488

Release Date: October 31, 2023, 12:00PM

A/N 1: Ahhhh! Welcome to my very first halloween special!!! I wanted to do something for my favourite holiday this year, and I've had this title written down without a plot for maybe just over a year? So I'm really excited to finally use it!!

A/N 1.5: Thank you to my absolute darling @katykatmeow for beta'ing this for me so late in the night. I adore you so much

A/N 2: The whiskey glass and whiskey are hand drawn vectors because I'm a glutton for punishment. Why do I keep doing this to myself.

Explicit Warnings: ahaha uhhh, unprotected sex (dont be stupid) kissing, breast play, fingering, oral (f rec), groping, pet names (sickening amount), dirty talk, praise, slight degredation, hair pulling (m rec), spitting, handjob, body worship, cowgirl, from the back, missionary, a lil bit of crying, spanking, size kink, voice kink, hand kink (look, he's a lot okay, don't blame reader), sl*t/wh*re mentions, multiple orgasms, creampie, I think thats it? Yoon went a little bananas with this one.....

Slow jazz floats through the air of the club, wading around the modestly-sized venue. You’d say it was almost cozy, but with the expensive feel of the place, cozy just didn’t seem like the right word.

Intimate. That would be a better choice.

From behind the bar where you stand, to the velvet couches in the back covered by decently dressed lesser demons, piano plays alongside gentle drums. Dark navy cushions soak in their conversation of effective torture methods, discussed like stock market trends, they dissect the best way to decapitate someone so you can instill the most pain and suffering.

The answer is always with a dull knife and from the back, blindly. Never knowing when the next cut will be is half the agony.

You try not to pay attention to that though, because the only thing you need to know is that they drink Vodka Tonics and lesser demon number four’s glass is looking to be on the emptier side.

He’ll be back for another soon.

While you wait for his arrival, the rhythmic notes continue on, gliding along shiny, black floor tiles. They pass the burgundy leather booths that face the stage, full of vampires trying to relive long lost youth in the old melodies played. They turn to stone just a little bit more with every passing minute they’re forced to live, keeping no company besides the pleasant burn down their throats and ever present melancholy.

Banshees listen in from the mezzanine, only ever soft spoken when they’re here. Covered by velvet draped ceilings that dampen sounds to the outside world, the women of three distinct ages sit at tall tables. The young in heels and short dresses, proudly showing off their youth, while the elders choose more elegant wares, content as they can be in their skin, considering their blood soaked pasts.

Banshees tend to discuss privately amongst themselves, ordering walk up service so as to never mingle with the men on the floor. You can’t blame them, especially knowing how they all got here in the first place, but they’re polite when they enter, greeting you kindly despite what you are to them. The trays you bring up for them never waver from their drink of choice, The Irish Sour.

And then there are the Djinn, who come in mostly just to pass the time. Sitting by themselves at the bar, or in no more than groups of two at a far table, they never interact with anyone other than the bartender or themselves. Djinn are increasingly solitary creatures of the night, with the fear of their kind lessening in mortals, you’re starting to see less and less of them as the days pass, and you’re almost sad to see them go.

Djinn are your favourites. They come in, order, keep to themselves, and then leave. It’s a nice change from the usual light conversation you’re forced to keep with patrons. Plus their orders are always easiest, as they only drink virgin. It’s a bit of a blow to the bar aspect of the establishment, but they come for the atmosphere, grateful to have a place they can exist with like minded folk—even if they don’t interact. There’s a comfort in familiarity, you guess.

Occasionally some other creatures of the night mix into the masses; fae, chimera, leprechauns, goblins, et cetera. All dressed in their nicest clothes to accommodate your work's dress code, all here for peace from their day jobs, to drown their sorrows, or somewhere in between.

Some come for an hour, others come for the night, but it’s mostly just your regulars who tend to remain, as do their drink orders. It’s a relatively easy job, and you don’t mind the company.

Most of the time.

You’ve just finished serving the lesser demon from earlier when your coworker bugs you for the hundredth time tonight.

“I don’t get why you're so hellbent on this, Y/N. If you’re closing, he’s coming. Because he always comes when you're closing. It’s simple math.”

“No he doesn't,” you dismiss Taehyung, a cocky but rather beautiful incubi, annoyedly. Taehyung is the type that knows he’s pretty and uses it to his every advantage, including being able to say whatever he wants and get away with it. And it would piss you off except it works on you too.

Fucking incubi demons…

You were one of only two mortal bartenders, the other being Lia, a cute blond who only works here for the tips. The boss likes to keep a couple humans on staff in case any wanderers stupid enough to come inside a den of nocturnal, evil creatures didn’t catch the vibe and immediately fuck off.

You’d be surprised at how shitty some people's self preservation instincts are.

You asked your boss once—a very large, very well built, very well connected vampire—why he bothered having a layer of protection for them. His only response was: “Business is business.”

Plus he knows he can’t have a trail of bodies that lead directly to his club's front steps, so he keeps a couple of mortals around just in case. This way, with you two here, there was always someone who knew all the drinks the humans could have, and someone to keep all the greedy eyes around the venue in check, as you have banning and kicking out privileges.

Because where you saw Kin, your regulars saw food, a hunt, or a job. They saw something to be taken advantage of or killed. They saw poor, weak, pathetic little mortals that should’ve been eradicated centuries ago had their ancestors been smarter.

They are the superior beings in their eyes, your race is just a bug to be squashed under their proverbial boot.

It makes you worry what they think of you. Is the only thing that stops them from devouring you whole the fact that you make their drinks just the way they like it, that you have a use in serving them? Or do they respect you enough now that you understand how to act around them and know what they’re like? What they are.

You worry, but you’ll never know the truth because you aren’t stupid enough to ask and show weakness. They can smell that shit from a mile away, and all it does is paint a 30 foot wide target on your back.

“Yes he does. I bet you tonight's tips he’ll be here in the next two hours,” Taehyung presses.

And ooohh, a night’s worth of tips, bragging rights, and winning a bet against Tae all sound way too good damn to pass up.

“You’re delusional,” you say, holding out a hand. Tae grabs and shakes, as you agree to his terms. “And you’re on, don’t come crying when you lose.”

There’s no way he’ll show up. It’s Friday night, the night of sin, he’s going to be up to his eyeballs with work…stuff.

“Easiest money I’ve ever made,” Taehyung grins, and with the confidence in which he does, you begin to second guess your own.

It’s not that you did or didn’t want him to show up, it’s just that your relationship with him is…complicated at best. You never really knew how to navigate a conversation with him outside of surface level banter and jokes, but it’s always been like that with you two.

Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm.

Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.

And obnoxiously flirty.

But you could never. Not with who and what you are, and who and what he is.

Regardless of how you fight the heat down in your cheeks every time you see him, and how your heart flutters against your will in multiple places in your body at even the thought of being near him.

Regardless of the fact that you shut him down every time he suggests anything more than an over the bar conversation, and the way your panties seem to always dampen in his presenc–fuck.

It’s happening again. Stop thinking about it, stop, stop st–wait. You turn, seeing the violet ichor in Tae’s eyes and you know the bitch is using his power on you. You flip the asshole off and he chuckles.

He’s been trying to get you to change your mind ever since the first time he saw you deny yourself.

“You know I can tell when you’re hot and bothered right? Incubus, remember? It’s literally part of who I am.”

To which you think again, fucking incubi…

Your most infamous regular is, to quote your favourite tv show, ‘the bane of your existence and the object of all your desires,’ and you will never, ever entertain his annoying, disgustingly hot ass more than you already do. Not after everything you went through the first—and last—time with a creature of the night.

You learned your lesson.

So instead, you try to think of him more like an old friend. The kind that’s actually really old already, but looks amazing for his age. The kind that makes shivers run up your spine when he talks to you in the deepest, most gravel turning voice you’ve ever heard, that you also ignore out of pure self preservation. He’s the kind that you shove out of your thoughts at night when your alone and in desperate need of relie—Fucking Taehyung!

You whip your head around to search for the violet eyed incubus, only to see him across the bar helping some stocky vampire. And you’re about a hair's breadth away from ripping him a new one in front of said vampire when the idle hum of chatter in the bar ceases and the band’s calming music falters into missed notes and a cymbal crash that's too hard; awkward, painful silence remaining.

From behind you, you can hear the front door close, followed by light footsteps that grow louder and louder. Only once the seat directly behind you creaks with the sound of being occupied, does the chatter and music resume.

Which can only mean one fucking thing.

You just lost all your tips for the night.

Tae’s shit eating grin as he looks over your shoulder confirms it.

Fuck.

“Excuse me,” the bottom of the ocean floor speaks and you make a conscious effort not to react.

“Ardbeg Single Malt, neat?” You throw over your shoulder, not bothering to look just yet.

You know precisely where he sits. And he knows you know.

“Sounds perfect,” he responds, and you focus on ‘looking for the bottle.’

You know exactly where it is.

No one else will touch it.

Taehyung busies himself with bringing an order of Bloody Mary’s down to a booth on the floor, knowing he’ll be burned alive if he so much as looks at a whiskey glass.

No one serves him but you.

But more importantly, nobody disrespects you in front of him. A lesson your ex–see: dead–coworker, Sal, learned the hard way. His burn mark is still seared onto the floor behind you.

You’d almost felt bad that day, but he was a lust demon who touched you without your permission, hit on you every five minutes, and when you said no, treated you like shit.

You’d been close to dousing him with vodka and lighting him up yourself, but the man tapping his fingers on the bar behind you beat you to it 15 seconds after sitting down one night last year.

After shoving Sal off you for the fourth time that night, he was pissed. Whispering obscenities to himself loud enough so you would hear,

“Fucking stupid mortal bitch, maybe next time I’ll just drag you into an alley do whatever the fuck I want. Nobody here’s going to stop me. And maybe then you’ll learn to shut up with this dick in your cunt and my fingers down your throat, huh? Leave you to rot with the garbage where you belong after you’re all used up.”

He didn’t take another breath.

A single burst of blistering flame had Sal reduced to ashes in seconds. You’d felt the heat from it, but your skin remained burn free, safe from its dangerous blaze. The lust demon from then on only existed as a smudge on the ground to be walked over.

“Thanks,” You’d said.

“It’s where he belongs,” he responded.

Grateful for his kindness, you entertained him more than usual that night. Engaged in an actual conversation, about your birthday of all things. You had no idea why he wanted to know, but you considered the information his reward for helping you, and he seemed pleased with it.

But he was more than pleased.

After years, you’d revealed something to him. Something personal.

He took it as a sign that he might be able to get you to change your mind one day, if he did everything just right. Having played the long game before, this was no different. The only thing different this time, was you.

Maybe it was the way you walked with such confidence, or the way you never cowered in fear around him. Not the day you met nor any day after. Or maybe you were sent by his father just to mess with his head. He didn’t care. All he knew was what he wanted, and that he was more than willing to wait as long as was needed to get it.

A nursery rhyme from your childhood plays in your head every time you see him. It never wavers, just like the eyes you can feel on the back of your neck, watching your experienced hands make his drink.

Quietly, you recite it to yourself while you grab the bottle;

‘One for sorrow,

Two for joy,

Three for a girl,

Four for a boy,

Five for silver,

Six for gold,

Seven for a secret never to be told.’

You pour, steady hand making it last as long as you possibly can to gain a few more seconds to compose yourself.

‘Eight for a wish,

Nine for a kiss,

Ten a surprise you should be careful not to miss,

Eleven for health,

Twelve for wealth,’

You put the bottle down and cork it before returning it to its place on the shelf. Taking a deep breath, you turn to finally face him, and change the wording of the last line to fit your situation better.

“One Ardbeg Single Malt neat, for the Devil himself.”

He snickers, “I always liked that nursery rhyme. It’s cute. Like you, Angel.”

You roll your eyes. To anyone else that would sound like a compliment. But coming from the Devil it’s more of an insult. One you know is meant in a playful way after all these years, crass in his humour, just like you. And you know he can take a little heat back.

“Wow, that’s a classic,” you grab a glass to polish, keeping your hands busy so they don’t do something stupid while you’re distracted. “Got one of those for you too, ‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’”

He chokes on a laugh before straightening on the barstool and putting on a face. “I don’t think that joke’s appropriate.”

“Oh come on Yoongi, you come at me with ‘It’s cute, like you, Angel’ and I can’t poke back?” You ask, knowing full well his uncomfortable look is all an act. “I thought you didn’t have any feelings besides rage, lust and currently; insufferable flirting.”

You know the entire club listens in to your conversation.

No one calls the Devil by his first name.

Nobody speaks to the Devil unless spoken to.

And no one makes jokes at the Devil’s expense and lives.

No one except you.

What a funny little exception you are.

Yoongi drops the act, a sly smirk that sends bubbles to your brain, replacing it. “So you admit my flirting isn’t always bad. Must be doing something right then.”

You force yourself not to slam a palm into your forehead. Of course that’s what he got out of your sentence.

You aren’t going to make his ego any bigger than it already is.

“It isn’t working,”—fuck, yes it is—“if that’s what you’re asking. Can’t say I’m surprised though, I hear you’ve been out of the game for a couple millenia,” he quirks a brow at that.

Ooo, that means you’re nearing thin ice, haven't been there in a while…Let’s see if you can slide around a bit more without falling in.

“I mean, I’m sure you’ll get there eventually. If you stay consistent at your current rate of progress you could hit me up in,” you suck air in through your teeth and look at the ceiling, before checking a watch you don’t wear, pretending to think, “a thousand years?” You tease, a lilt in your tone. Because if Yoongi was going to make your shift this fucking difficult just by breathing near you, then you sure as Hell can do the same for his night.

He chuckles like the coals of a fire and you cross your legs behind the bar. Motherfucker…

“Someones got a mouth on them tonight,” he says, looking directly into your eyes as he takes his first sip, savouring the taste before swallowing. His tongue dips to his bottom lip for any remnants and you gulp, vision dropping for a millisecond—oh for the love of—and you finally notice what he’s wearing.

Much to your dismay and dwindling willpower, he looks fucking good. With only a white scarf to accent, the all black Valentino suit fits in perfectly with the bar’s dress code, as well as the long slicked back hair he’s only recently started to grow out. Just seeing it like this makes you want to run your hands through and mess it up.

You’ve always had a thing for men with long hair, ever since you were young.

Jack Sparrow, Madmartigan, even The Winter Soldier. And come to think of it, none of them were exactly the good guys in their respective universes either…

Nope! No. You can’t. You can’t.

You can’t for so many reasons, so many good and bad and everything in between reasons. You’re nothing more than a flimsy human while he’s the Great Immortal Evil. The person people whisper the name of for fear of incurring his wrath.

The King of Hell.

He’s the person that walks into a room and everyone balks under his gaze, terrified of what he may do. He’s killed millions with no mercy. Doesn’t so much as think twice to horrifically burn someone where they stand to ash in hellfire for breathing the wrong way near him. He lavishes in the screams of sinners, punished in their own blood and bones, beaten into a shell of who they were in the nine circles of Hell. Left gaping, broken and sobbing in agony for their suffering to end.

Yoongi is walking nightmares and visceral terror. He is merciless violence and brutality abandon.

Yoongi is living, breathing, unyielding death wrapped up in deceivingly beautiful packaging.

He is the epitome of someone you should not like, should not go near, and definitely should not want in the way the thrumming in your bones is telling you, you want him.

You have to stay away from him.

But that doesn’t mean you can’t flirt back a little.

As salaciously as you can muster, you whisper low, “But it’s nothing you can’t handle,” and you swear you see a hint of surprise in Yoongi’s eyes, followed by something so much deeper that you have to look away under the guise of checking for any newcomers.

It’s a dangerous game you’re playing. One you need to move the pieces of very, very carefully.

There’s a handful of people waiting to be served, but none disturb Yoongi’s service. So you’re forced and relieved to cut the interaction short. For both the waiting patrons, and your sanity.

“Enjoy the whiskey, Yoongi.”

Yoongi doesn’t bother you for the rest of the night, instead he watches you help the other patrons and make drinks. No one dares sit within three seats of him on either side, so the booths and tables fill more than the bar does, forcing you to do more tray work than you like. And you think you can feel those eyes on the back of your neck travel elsewhere.

Soon after he takes his last sip, Yoongi leaves far too much cash on the table to cover a single drink, and you know Tae won’t include it in tonight's bet. He rather enjoys being alive.

The first time he did this you tried to give it back, insisting it was too much. But one threat to Tae’s life had you accepting the outrageous amount he left you every time. Despite how much he gets on your nerves, you rather enjoy Taehyung's company on your shifts. And you didn’t want to risk having a new coworker like Sal again.

Thank you, Yoongi. You silently think to yourself every time he does. His tips are one of the only reasons you’re able to take care of yourself so well.

You live in an apartment you should not be able to afford on a bartender's wage. Eat well, buy all the brand name products for the skin care routine you could only dream of having as a teenager, and you’re able to get yourself a little treat every once in a while.

All thanks to the one man the world claimed was the purest entity of evil there was.

And maybe he is.

But not to you.

The rest of your night, and closing go smoothly. The journey home passes by in a flash and soon you’re flopping into your bed, asleep before you hit the pillow.

You dream of Yoongi and Hellfire and things only your subconscious will let you. The thoughts that you force away every time you see him.

The burn of his hands on your skin and his lips on your neck. The warmth that spreads over your entire body at the mere mention of your name from his lips. His tongue in places you wouldn’t dare allow him to even think about in the waking world.

And you wake from an orgasm he wasn't in the waking world to give you.

It’s the last Saturday in October, which means it’s also your birthday.

You found it rather funny that the one person the Devil could stand to conversate with was born on his night. Maybe that’s coincidence or maybe that’s fate, either way you didn’t care, because you had it booked off work and you were going to a bar and dancing with your friends, dressed up in the sluttiest costumes you could find.

Your recent visit with your birthday's namesake inspired your costume this year. Wearing the shortest, blood red leather dress you could find, the slits up the sides ran almost to your hips, and a corseted waist that made you feel sexy and fierce. You’d paired it with some velvet horns, a tail, pitchfork, crimson lace stockings and your most recent edition; red bottomed strappy stilettos.

They’d been your birthday present to yourself, courtesy of Yoongi’s most recent tip. And needless to say, you felt hot as shit. No one could tear you down tonight.

All your friends met at your house before ridesharing down to a club. It’s loud, hazy, and filled with other Devil’s Night party goers as you arrive, smoke lingering in the air and you can feel the wave of dancing coming from further inside.

Someone buys you your first round within a minute of being let in, lemon drop filling your taste buds as you knock back the shot. Another is ordered immediately after the first, it runs smoother and tastes like chocolate as you make your way to the dance floor.

Aside from you, your friends are dressed up as a wild mix of characters. Rey is dressed as Daphne from Scooby Doo, Yaejin is Nezuko from Demon Slayer, Bryce is a gender bent Legolas from Lord of the Rings, Declan is Donatello from the Ninja Turtles, Cam is a ghost, and Trin is a character from a book you’ve never read. Something about dragons and magic and vermin—or was it venin? Whatever. But they were in all black and had used silver hair spray on the tips of their hair.

You let the alcohol make its way through your veins as you dance, loosening up. The DJ mixes songs together in a way that never has the crowd thinning out and you laugh as you move with your friends, swaying and rocking and grinding.

You needed this.

A night out just to let go, have fun, forget everything and hopefully get lucky by the end of it. It’s been a while since you’ve taken anyone to bed, and birthday sex sounds amazing the more the lemon drop, and what you finally learned was a tootsie roll shot, settle into your system.

You aren’t drunk by any means, but you are buzzed and having a blast. An orgasm sounds like the only thing that could possibly make this night any better. So you make your way around the dance floor, keeping one eye open for any potentials, but mostly just dancing with Rey and Cam. The others either grabbing another drink back at the bar or resting their legs in a booth.

“Babe,” Rey says, hands around your neck with Cam behind you, hands on your hips. You all sway to the beat of the admittedly sensual song playing.

“Yeah?” You ask, opening your eyes to meet hers and she leans in closer.

You can hear the smile on her lips, “Major tall, dark and handsome at 9 o'clock has been eyeing you for at least a half hour. I say you ditch me and Cam and go enthrall the man with your company for a little while. We’ll be fine on our own.”

Heating at her words you’re excited to see who’s gone and done half your job for you tonight when your eyes stop dead on target.

In a private booth in the VIP section, blending in far too well with the mortals around him, he wears a button down black satin top and dress pants. Thick silver links adorn his neck, complimenting the hoops in his lobes as well as the mouth watering rings on his fingers and you’re quite sure the bottoms of his black leather shoes match the red of your own.

Yoongi.

God he looks good. Unfairly so. And he carries that knowledge with him in his movement. His confidence never wavering like a mortal’s would.

Aside from two twisting black horns you’ve never seen before protruding from his deliciously tousled hair—hair you still want to pull on until he’s making sounds no ones ever heard come out of his mouth before, now moreso than ever—Yoongi is a darker version of yourself.

Except for him, it isn’t a costume, it’s real, real, real.

And he looks like sin incarnate.

Fitting.

Fuck, you’re so screwed. What were all those reasons it could never work again? The ones that explain why you shouldn’t take the Devil home and let him fuck you into next Sunday?

Suddenly, you can’t remember any of them. Not when Yoongi’s eyes never leave your red-clad form as he sips on what you know to be subpar whiskey. Your core melts into lava at the way he looks up and down, taking all of you in like you’re the one thing on this planet he needs to survive, and he’ll stop at nothing and spare absolutely no one until he gets you.

Rey gives Cam a look and their hands drop, allowing you to almost float over to where Yoongi lounges, maneuvering between bodies undulating to music that’s being deafened by the heartbeat in your ears.

When you reach him, you leave a somewhat respectable distance between you two, a step down from the dias the booth sits on.

Seeing him so much clearer now, you almost whine. How does he look even better up close? You want to sit on his lap, his face, have him bend you over the table then flip you over and feast like a man starved.

Fuck! No, you can’t. And you also can’t blame Tae for those thoughts either, he isn’t here.

They were all you.

Maybe his plan was working after all…

“What are you doing here?” You manage, grateful that you hadn’t had more to drink, but even more grateful for the ones you did. You needed a little liquid courage right now, even if it turned your thoughts into gutter sewage.

What he doesn’t know can’t hurt you…right? You just have to keep a lid on it. The one that’s loosening the more you look at him.

“It’s your birthday,” he says, producing a small black box wrapped with a bow. “I have a gift.”

He…he got you a present? He’s never done that before. But then again, before last year, he never knew when it was.

“You remem—I—you didn’t have to get me anything,” you stutter ungracefully, mouth trying to keep up with your racing thoughts. “I already got these shoes with the tip you left me last time,” you say, extending your leg to show off your newest purchase. The action reveals more leg than you meant it too and he catches the garter you have pulled around your thigh.

A fire ignites in his eyes at the sight, and you can feel their sparks everywhere he looks. Starting at your toes and moving all the way up back to your pretty irises.

“I’m flattered by the way,” he says. “In your costume choice.”

Huh? You look down and heat rises to your cheeks in a way it never has before. Oh fuck, oh fuck. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!

Here you stand, before the actual Devil—horns out in all their glory—dressed as him on his namesake night.

Of course this would happen to you, of course it would. This is what you get for fucking around. You found out. And you don’t know whether to be mortified, beg for forgiveness, or laugh yourself hoarse.

Going with none of the above, you choose to play it off instead, the way you always do when he manages to fluster you. “Consider me inspired by how recently I last saw you,” you say, taking the single step up the dias and twirling for him.

You show every angle of your costume you can, letting the booze in your system do its job of making you more confident than you currently are.

“What do you think?”

Yoongi stands, taking the two strides needed to be face to face with you, his voice is quiet and even, so only you can hear.

“May I touch?”

You don’t hesitate.

“Yes.”

Yoongi reaches behind you and pulls the fake tail from the back of your dress, then the pitchfork from your grasp and throws them into the booth, not caring where they land.

“Mmm,” he hums, placing his hands on your hips and spinning you once more. Lightning strikes every single nerve ending where his fingertips meet your body.

This time when he speaks, his voice is touched with the bit of demon that’s inside of him, dragging its claws along the floor of the 9th circle of Hell as he growls, “You’re perfect.”

Your heart does backflips and cartwheels and nose dives all at once. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and if your panties weren’t wet before, they definitely are now.

Tugging gently, he guides you to the booth, sitting first before dragging you over his lap, knees meeting his hips. One of his hands rests on your thigh while the other reaches for something you can’t be bothered to figure out because oh my god, oh my god, you’re straddling him. Your straddling the Devil, dressed as the devil and probably already looking semi-fucked out while you do. This is probably a bad idea—no. This is definitely a bad idea. But you also have absolutely zero plans to stop literally anything that’s happening.

The gift box makes a reappearance, and he hands it over to you.

“Thank you,” you say automatically, trying and failing to ignore the fact that both of his hands now rest on your thighs. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…..

Undoing the little black bow, you open it, revealing a delicately simple necklace. Its light weight chain holding a small pink stone pendant.

Beautiful.

“Pink Tourmaline,” Yoongi says.

“My birthstone,” you reply.

“Your birthstone.”

You stare at the little crystal, cut and polished to perfection. Not a single flaw.

“Yoongi I—I don’t know what to say. It’s incredible…Thank you,” you take it out of the box, profoundly grateful you decided not to wear a necklace tonight. “Could you help me put it on?”

“Of course, Angel,” he agrees. But this time when he says your nickname, it’s different. Like an unholy vow made only to you.

Makes you wonder what he promised.

Regretfully removing yourself from his lap, you turn around, only to be dragged back down by strong fingers.

Your ass is now flush against his dick, and it’s taking everything in you not to tease. Whether you’d be teasing him or yourself, you don't know, nor do you care. All you know is that friction can be a good thing if you want it to be. And you're starting to want it to be.

Lifting your hair for him, Yoongi fastens the necklace around your column, and to your complete and utter doom, places a gentle kiss at your nape. The simple contact makes you quietly moan, and you feel a twitch under you.

Ohhh, this is bad, this is so bad. But you can’t bring yourself to stop him. Not when his hands roam up and down your back, your sides, your hips. Exploring, feeling, learning. You dissolve into the touch, welcoming every whisper of pleasure they bring.

What is he doing to you?

“Angel,” Yoongi purrs in your ear.

“Mmm?”

“Would you like to dance?”

Fuck would you ever, but wait—

“Are you asking me if I’d like to Dance with the Devil?” you muse.

Yoongi chuckles lowly, understanding the meaning behind your ask.

“Is that something you’d be interested in?”

“Yes.”

You feel more than hear the dark rumble coming from his chest before he gently taps on your thigh. And you get up quickly.

“That’s a good girl,” he says, and fuck could you ever get used to him saying that to you.

Fingers laced in his, he lets you guide him to the dance floor.

Both of you ignore what the DJ plays, instead moving to the rhythm you feel like. Slow, sensual, a hand on his neck while you grind into him. Fast and heated, bodies touching any and every place you can get contact. You’re putting on quite the show for anyone brave enough to watch. And you know at least a handful of the eyes you feel on you are your friends’.

They don’t know about Yoongi.

They don’t know about the nature of the clientele at your job either, like every other human. They don’t know you're dancing with the most dangerous and volatile man in the room. And it’s better that way, because if they did, your ass would’ve been hauled out of the club and in a rideshare the second anyone saw him.

You’ve never been more thankful for the figurative wall between worlds. And the fact that you stand on both sides.

You brush up against his hardening dick and fuck, that’s it.

You’ve decided.

To hell with your reasons. To hell with the constant flirting and overuse of will power.

To hell with letting your anxieties and your moral compass and your conscience get in the way of the one thing you’ve been denying yourself for years.

You spin in Yoongi’s hold, looking straight into the darkened eyes of the most forbidden man you could ever want for yourself, only to see pure desire staring right back. It’s all you need before you’re crashing your lips to his, taking anything and everything you can get before one of you comes to your senses and pulls back.

But his grip on you tightens like a vice, pulling you closer, bodies flush amidst the dancing crowd. He’s magnetic in his want, lifting a hand to the back of your neck and tracing the seam of your lips with his tongue.

You let him in without hesitation and he nearly swallows you whole with how he invades your mouth, claiming it for himself. It makes you moan and he lets up, if only to let you breathe for a moment, and you take this reprieve to whisper in his ear, finally giving in to what you crave more than anything.

“Let’s go to yours.”

“We should go to yours, Angel, mine’s a bit harder to get to.”

Because his is on another plane of existence. Not exactly a taxi ride away. At least not one you can get at the curb of the club.

“Riiight.” A small dose of water washes over the fire in your core, and it’s like he can sense it because immediately, he’s pulling you back in. Nothing but teeth and lips and tongue, animalistic in the passion you’re displaying for everyone to see, the flames increasing tenfold.

Fuck, you don’t want to wait.

And apparently neither does Yoongi.

“Do you trust me?” He asks.

“Yes, but what does tha–”

“Close your eyes for me, Love.”

Any and all arguments fade on your tongue at the new pet name. So much warmer than Angel, so much more affectionate.

So you close your eyes for him, no questions asked. Because you trust him. You trust the Devil.

You trust Yoongi.

“That's a good girl.”

One hand goes to the back of your neck, the other your lower back as he kisses you gently. So gently you think it means something more, but the sounds of the club are fading away, and he’s leaning you down like he’s going to dip you before your back meets something soft.

Are you closer to a booth than you thought? Is he really going to take you here in front of all those people?

But when you open your eyes and your bedroom at your apartment fills your vision, you stiffen immediately.

What?

“I—but we were just—and now we’re he—and you—,” you stutter, amazed and unable to get the thoughts out fast enough before another takes its place. You manage a, “How?” and he catches on.

Not halting his actions, “Consider it a job perk,” he explains, nipping at your neck. You let out a groan as he continues his way down your column towards your chest and you relax into his touch.

“Teleportation, in simple terms, but it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

Despite his mouth on your skin, you somehow find the clearness of mind to ask, “Did anyone see?” Thinking about your friends and the potential hundreds of onlookers.

Yoongi’s hands rest at top of the zipper that goes the entire length of your dress, allowing for both easy putting on and quick removal. Fingers tug gently on the slider, eyes meeting yours for consent. You nod, and he answers your question as he drags it down your body torturously slow, savouring every moment he’s worked so hard to get.

He’s going to earn this privilege you’ve given him, if it's the last thing he does.

“No. And your friends won’t worry either.”

You don’t care how he knows that, not when he’s pulling off hot leather and devouring your curves with coal burning pupils. The cool air of your room causes goosebumps to rise everywhere, and your arms fly to your head, covering your eyes as you’re reminded you’d forgone a bra tonight.

There was no room for one without it squishing your tits too much and ruining the look. So with your dress gone, Yoongi has a front row seat to your nearly nude form, a blood red lace thong the only thing keeping you semi-decent.

Years of pining and denial have led up to this moment and Yoongi almost doesn’t know where to start now that he finally has you exactly where he wants you. That feeling doesn’t last long though.

Wasting no more time, he takes a breast into his palm, squeezing and massaging while he lowers himself to the other, lapping the nipple of the one neglected. His tongue swirls over the pert bud, sucking it into his mouth fully and you arch into his touch, reveling in the warmth he spreads across your chest. Hands reaching for the sheets above your head for something to ground you.

“Shit,” you can already feel your pulse in your ears, thundering behind your sternum, and booming lower. He’s barely touched you and you’re already so gone.

He switches his hand and mouth, soothing the other breast with the sinful muscle he’s teased you with after all these years drinking whiskey. And by god if you don’t immediately think what it could do in other places. He’s had thousands of years to practice and the gush you feel in your panties lets you know exactly how you feel about the idea.

Using his free hand, Yoongi traces down your back, rounding your ass and squeezing hard enough to make you hiss in pleasure before settling on the back of your thigh.

You can barely stand having his hands so close to your molten heat without having any contact, and it leaves you begging, “Please…Please…”

You feel the curve of his lip quirk as teeth gently scrape the sensitive bud, gasping when he pulls off.

“Please what, Love?”

“More,” you pant. “Please. Anything. Everything. Please just touch me.”

“Mmm,” he’s back at your neck, inhaling your scent, one hand still on your thigh while the other holds him up by your ear. “Pretty Girl has manners after all, huh?”

“Oh fuck you.” you bristle, but it seems to be the reaction he’s looking for. A deeper, sluttier part of you awakening at the words you want to prove both wrong and right.

“There she is.”

Diving back into your neck, Yoongi trails wet, open mouthed kisses down, down, down. And even though you’ve never been so wet, so in the moment, and so unbelievably turned on before, the human part of you wins for a second, as you try to close your legs.

They’re pulled back open in an instant, his eyes never wavering from yours as he says, “Don’t you dare get shy on me now,” a kiss to your inner thigh. And then the other as he kneels before you.

Yoongi places each foot on either of his shoulders and you’re surprised he’s kept on your garter, stockings and red bottoms, their heels digging into his flesh. You wonder if that hurts at all, but by the way his eyes flutter and almost roll into the back of his head at the pressure they place on his frame, you think he actually likes their sting.

“You’re the most exquisite creature I have ever seen. Absolutely no part of you could ever be undesirable to me.”

His earnest tone makes you believe him, convinces you, and you’re once again pliant in his hold, opening up for him.

“Look at me,” he says, and you do. You stare directly at the Devil between your thighs. The King knelt before your lowly mortal form. “You are the most powerful person in this room, understand?”

You nod, but that’s not good enough for him.

“I need to hear it.”

“I understand.”

“Understand what?” He pushes.

“I’m the most powerful person in this room,” and it feels bold to say in front of him. But watching the way Yoongi’s expression fills with pride makes it also feel good. He wants you to feel like you’re the one in charge.

“Remember that,” he says, before ripping your underwear off and throwing them on the floor, feasting his now wholly black eyes on the sight of your dripping pussy.

The more he loses himself in you, the more of his true form reveals itself.

“Fuuuckk,” he whispers more to himself than anything. “So wet…”

Your core is tormented and throbbing at the back and forth between the cold night air and Yoongi’s hot breath and you whine, “I just bought those!”

He spares you one completely unsympathetic look.

“Don’t care. I’ll buy you more,” a deliciously ringed finger slides along your drenched folds and you’re gasping. “I’ll buy you the entire fucking store if it means I get to see you like this.”

Your voice is airy as you give in, any and all outrage gone. “Oka—ohhh!”

His mouth is on your cunt before you can breathe in the oxygen you so desperately need. He’s not holding back and your movements are not your own as you squirm. An arm rounds your pelvis holds you down, keeping you there as he devours you whole and shows you no mercy.

“Fuck, fuck, oh my god Yoongi,” you cry out, having never felt anything like this before. His tongue circles your clit as he sucks, then glides down, penetrating your opening with thrusts that make you lightheaded.

Your hands fly to his locks, pulling and pushing him down further until you're pretty sure you’re drowning him in you. Your fingertips graze his horns and it’s just a reminder that this man is definitely not human. Definitely not someone you should be letting suck your soul out through your pussy. And that makes this whole situation that much hotter.

If he minds where you touch, he doesn’t say anything about it, only groaning as he repeats his motions to get you near your peak, again and again and again until you're quaking against your will and your body is vibrating with every throb from your core.

Every single nerve ending you have is awake and being put to good use, he’s making sure of it. The dam that holds your release is starting to crumble and you don’t know how much longer you can last like this before you’re screaming bloody murder under his grip.

“Yoon…Yoongi—fuck,” you stutter, staggered breaths from your trembling chest loose as you try to verbalize, “C-close. S-so close.”

He hums, and teases a finger around your entrance, circling a few times before pressing in and up to your g-spot. The simple action undoes you and you're coming with a force you can’t even begin to describe. The waves crash down, over and over and you're moaning and cursing his name at the same time, knowing it’s going to be the only one you’ll think of in this situation from now until forever.

He guides you through the last shockwaves as you come down, and when you’re too sensitive for him to continue, you drag him up to your lips, tasting his efforts on your tongue.

“Need you now,” you rush out between kisses.

“Not yet, Love,” he says, pulling back just enough to reach a hand between the two of you.

He slips two fingers inside and swallows the resulting moan from your lips as he goes so deep enough you can feel his rings proding your opening.

“Gotta stretch you out for me first.”

Your hands are back in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck as he begins to scissor you open expertly. He growls into your neck at the sensation and that confirms your suspicions of him liking a little pain with his pleasure. So you scratch further down his neck, onto his shoulders and back and you dig a heel into his thigh.

“Fuck, Angel,” fingers stuttering for a second. “Don’t do that unless you want me to come right now.”

“And if I do?”

“Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because the first time I come, it’ll be with you around my cock, soaking the sheets with your own.”

Head rolling back, his words going straight to your clit. “Fuck, okay.”

“Now give me another one, Pretty Girl,” he says, picking up speed with his digits. “I know you can, pretty little slut takes my fingers so well.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck…

You can feel it coming this time, building and building. He uses his thumb to rub over your sensitive nub and it has you unraveling under him, screaming out and almost sobbing at the convulsions your body makes. He takes your mouth with his again, consuming your pleasure in every form he can get.

And once you come down, you’ve had it. If you don’t have him inside you within the next 2 minutes you’re going to lose it.

Ripping at his shirt, you're fumbling with the buttons. “Fuck, take this off, and those,” you say, abandoning his shirt for his belt.

Yoongi chuckles, low and sinful, “Bossy,” but gets up, and begins removing the outfit that got you into this situation in the first place. You take off the remnants of your costume as he spares you no peace of mind, the way you did him, taking off his pants and boxers in one go, freeing his mouth watering bulge from its earthy confines.

“Oh fuck me,” you say at his size. He’s big, girthy and you’ve never wanted someone inside you so badly before.

Yoongi smirks as he crawls over you, but you stop him with a hand. “Wait,” you throw a leg over his hip, and flip the two of you so you’re on top. “Let me do this.”

“Whatever you want, Angel.”

Picking up his cock, it sits heavy in your hand as you give him a couple strokes. He hisses at the contact and it only spurs you on, gathering as much saliva as you can, you open your mouth to spit, rubbing it all over his shaft and head, mixing it with the precum dribbling out of the tip.

“Fuck—”

Your 2 minutes are up. Lifting your ass, you guide yourself onto him.

“Oh my fuck, oh fuck,” you say as you slide down slowly, the stretch still very much there as he bottoms out. “Big—ohh, shit—so big.”

Yoongi’s not faring much better, eyebrows pressed together, but eyes devouring the spot where your bodies meet. His breathing is so laboured you’d think he just ran a marathon.

“So tight, Love...Fuck, look at you.”

The delicious sting subsides and you start to move, slow but purposeful thrusts that have him kissing your cervix every time. Fuck he’s so deep, deeper than anyone else has ever been. And once you get a rhythm going there’s no stopping you. You become a force of nature as you bounce on his cock without abandon, taking this for yourself. You don’t know why, but you feel like you have a point to prove and by god you’re going to make it.

Because if the Devil chose you, you’re going to make damn sure he doesn’t regret it.

“Fuck, fuck you’re doing so good,” he rasps, throwing his head back into the pillows, eyes shut in pure bliss, murmuring. “Feels so good.”

His praise pushes you farther, riding harder, grinding your clit against his pelvis, owning both your pleasures.

You’re the most powerful person here.

You are the one in control despite being on top of arguably the most powerful man on the planet. It makes you feel safe and strong and invincible.

And you want to continue, you really do, but your legs are starting to give, so you let him know.

“Ass up for me then,” he says, and you listen, climbing off of him and wincing at the feeling of him slipping out. He gets behind you, lining himself up again and this time it’s much easier as he sinks in, both of you groaning at the contact.

Yoongi hands go to your hips, gripping and squeezing and molding the globes of your ass as you anchor your cheek to the bedsheets.

“That’s it, Pretty Girl, all the way down for me.”

His first thrust has you seeing stars. You're nothing and everything as he continues, but you need more. You need to not be able to speak. To walk. You need to have every thought fucked out of your head. You need him so deep you’ll feel it for a week afterwards.

“Faster,” you beg. “Harder, please.”

“There are those manners I was looking for,” he says and picks up his pace.

You’re incoherent, saying things you’ve never dared to utter out loud before, making admissions you swore to take to your grave and Yoongi is eating up every single last one of them.

Because this is about you. This is about proving years of your denial’s fruitless. This is about him and how you make him lose every ounce of self control he has when he’s around you and how badly he’s wanted you since the day you met. This is about ruining every other man for you, making sure you know what true pleasure feels like, know how you deserve to be treated, and hearing his name on your lips when you come. When your cunt clenches so hard he has to fight tooth and nail to milk every ounce of bliss from it.

This is about him wanting to hear him make you feel good. Needing to hear him make you feel good.

This is about you.

And he can feel you starting to clamp up again, can feel you getting close. So he wraps an arm around your waist, fingers going straight for your pussy.

You shriek, body consumed by the even strokes he delivers as well as the smooth circles around your most sensitive spot, and he revels in it. This is what he’s been dreaming of, what he’s desired over everything else.

You, underneath him in so much pleasure you’re almost non-verbal.

Perfect in every single way.

“Taking me so well, dirty girl. Love the feeling of my cock splitting you open?” he hears a muffled cry and you nod your head. “Knew you would, knew you could take me.”

He delivers a smack to your ass and he feels you clench, so he soothes the battered area before handing out another, soothing that one out too.

“You’re so good for me, pretty little whore so greedy, sucking me in. Why’d you make me think you didn’t want me all these years, hmm? Was I not good enough for you?”

You bury your face in your sheets. Well that certainly won’t do. So he slows his fingers as he reiterates. “Was I not good enough for you then, Angel? Am I good enough for you now?”

“Yes,” you mutter, barely loud enough to hear.

“What was that?” he slows again to a near burningly slow pace, soaking in the feel of you around his fingers and dick. It feels like a place he once called home.

“Yes!” you bellow. “So good…so good to me…more than enough.”

The praise fuels him, and he picks up the speed of everything, cock pounding you into the mattress, fingers rubbing an achingly mind-blowing pattern on your clit. It pushes you over the edge for the third time tonight, your fluttering cunt around his dick almost has him losing it. Almost has him coming undone with you, but he manages to hold it back.

Not yet.

You're silent in your screams this time, overwhelmed with the feelings, fingers nearly ripping your sheets in half at how hard it hit you. How hard you contract around him.

Oh he’s never going to get sick of this feeling.

Ever.

And instead of guiding you down this time, he removes himself quickly, flips you over on your back and inserts himself once more.

He needs that feeling again. Needs you again. You claimed him for yourself whether you knew it or not all those years ago, he was simply following orders. He was yours the second your eyes met for the first time and he’s never looked back since. No one was ever good enough from that moment on, not a single creature on any plane of existence.

There was only you.

Yoongi’s never felt anything so pure and so sinful and so right as you pulsing around him does. He exists only for this feeling. Only for you. It took a couple thousand years, but at least now he knows.

And so he doesn’t slow down, pushing you through your oversensitivity.

It’s time for him to finally claim you back.

“I can’t,” you beg, “it hurts.”

“Not for long, Pretty Girl” he says in his lowest registar. “You can take it, I know you can. Give me one more, I know you have it in you.”

Yoongi’s noticed his words have almost the same effect on you as his motions, so he uses them to their full potential. And as he can sense your fourth orgasm about to land, you surprise him by whispering directly into his ear and raking your nails down his back as hard as you can.

“Only for you, Yoongi.”

His thrusts stutter.

“Fuck!”

He’s coming.

He’s coming hard. With you, with your name on his lips. It's violent and visceral and vicious and vibrant. It’s beautiful. You’re combined divine deliverance.

It’s the first time he’s said your name.

And it’s something he’s going to keep locked away in his memory for millenia to come as he covers your inner walls in the most sickeningly sweet shade of white.

You’re relentless, milking him over and over and over for all he’s worth, not letting up until your body is ready too, ruthless in your quest for ultimate euphoria and he takes it.

Whatever you want. Whatever you need.

It’s yours.

He’ll make it so.

At whatever cost to him, you'll get it. There isn't a doubt in his mind as you finally come down, body lighter, eyes glazed over, devastating smile on your lips.

He’s the first to move, going to the bathroom and grabbing a warm, wet cloth to clean you up. You’re blissfully spent, unable to get up even if you wanted to, limbs like jelly, still in a brain fogged haze.

You got exactly what you wanted.

He cleans his release from your form, naked save for the pink stone he gave you around your neck. Then tosses the cloth in your hamper and lies back down, covering you both with sheets. You cuddle up to him, tossing a leg around his torso, and lying your head on his chest. Contented.

And he’s silent until he can’t stand it any longer. He has to know.

“What changed?”

“Hmm?”

“What about tonight made you change your mind?”

You take a deep breath through your nose. “I…stopped fighting it. The feeling like we would never work, the feeling that I would never be good enough, that we were too different,” he listens intently as your fingers trace patterns on his chest, explaining. “And I was sick of denying myself. It’s my birthday. Shouldn't I get whatever I want on my birthday?”

That seductive smirk makes an appearance.

“Yes.”

“Plus you looked to damn fine in that outfit. A girl only has so much willpower, you know? It’s easier at work when there’s a bar and my job between us, but there was none of that tonight. Just the shots in my system and my unwavering desire to ride your face.”

Yoongi laughs, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen something as beautiful as his smile before.

“Next time,” he says. A promise.

You fall back into a comfortable silence that has you thinking.

“What about you?” you ask.

“What about me?”

“Why am I the only one you like? The only one you put up with.”

He ponders for a moment, thinking about how to phrase what he wants to say.

“I think about the time we met often. There was something about you that was different that day, and I’ve never been able to pinpoint exactly what, but when I saw you I knew I would never think of you the same way I do everyone else. There was something special about your gaze in mine, your company, your soul.”

“My soul?”

“Mhm.”

“You’ve never asked for mine before.”

“Never needed it.”

At that, you joke, “Is there something you’d sell your soul for?”

“You.”

Before you can say all the nothing in your head at his answer, he takes a deep breath that has you rising and falling with it. Something about what he’s going to say next is going to have heavy importance to him.

You just know it.

“You… made me—make me…want to be better. Do better.”

You’re speechless. Not the kind you were moments before. No, you’re truly and genuinely speechless.

You never expected anything like that.

You knew your presence in his life carried a different weight than others, a different air. It’s why you could speak so casually, insult him, and exist near him without fearing for your life. It was something no one had seen from him in thousands of years.

Kindness. Patience.

The man who’s job it is to run the universes torture capital, punishing those who deserve it without an ounce of mercy for eternity and killing those who looked at him the wrong way. The physical entity of the word evil, wanted to be better.

Because of you.

“I don't know what to say.”

“You don't need to say anything,” he kisses the top of your head, tender. “Having you with me is more than enough.”

You can do that.

“Okay,” you say, craning your neck to kiss him. It’s long, languid, and full of emotions you don't want to acknowledge right now, there’s too many of them to sort through in your post four orgasms brain to be able to process properly.

Tomorrow you can start. Right now you just want to bask in the afterglow of the most amazing birthday you've ever had.

“So this wasn’t a one time thing?” Yoongi clarifies.

“It definitely wasn't a one time thing,” not a chance in Hell.

He was yours now.

The Devil was yours.

King of the Underworld, god among men, catastrophe breathing evil was yours. And it brings the biggest smile to your face.

“Oh thank fuck.”

“Not thank God?” you tease.

Yoongi groans. “Do not bring my father into this.”

A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3

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deadtired-highkeyenergetic · 1 month

Note

Hello! May I please request #5 “Flowers” from the prompt list? Thank you! :D

Ayyyyyyy one of my fave prompts from the list! Glad you requested it!!

Summary: You give Astarion a personally handmade flower crown

Each flower has its own unique meaning, though some meanings have been lost to time. Your mother’s voice teaching you the meaning of some flowers has long faded from your memory, a loss you mourn as you scour the markets for books on flowers and their meanings.

You know Astarion isn’t one for receiving flowers, but its not the flower you want him to hold dear to his heart, no, it’s the meaning of the flower that you want to imprint into his mind for all eternity.

By a stroke of luck, you find a book detailing the meaning and uses of certain flowers in Faerun hidden away in the corners of a merchant’s store. A quick purchase later and its now permanently in your hands, ready for perusing.

Astarion raises an eyebrow when he sees you sitting in your tent, engrossed in a book instead of sitting with the others around the campfire, unwinding after a long day of adventuring. The others don’t seem to mind the missing company, but this is most unusual behaviour from you so Astarion takes it upon himself to investigate this change.

“Hello darling, not in the mood for mingling tonight?” He smiles, closing the distance between the two of you. You shift over wordlessly, making space for him and he happily sits down, taking a look at the book you’re reading.

“I had no idea you were into flowers, I thought you were more into…clothes.”

“You thought wrong, then.” His favourite smile of yours graces your lips as amusement flashes across your face. “If however it were a book about clothes…I could be persuaded to be into clothes.”

Astarion can’t help but laugh at your attempt at a sly look and leans in to press a quick peck to your lips. “Leave that kind of talk to me, darling. You’re positively terrible at it.”

“At least I’m not negatively terrible at it.” You shoot back.

Astarion rolls his eyes, half immune to your type of jokes at this point and swipes the book from your lap, curious. You’re left hugging him from behind as he holds the book out of your reach, reading the page you’re on.

“Aren’t night orchids our resident cleric’s favourite flower?”

“Yes, they are.” You rest your chin on his shoulder, still clinging onto him.

“Night orchids are known to symbolise rarity, uniqueness, beauty and spirituality. Who knew her favourite flower represented her so well?” He remarks.

“They also represent someone else very well.” You mumble into his back sheepishly. Astarion hums in response, closing the book after placing a bookmark in it for you and turns to face you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Yes, Star?” You ask.

Astarion buries his face into your hair, letting out a soft breath that ruffles the strands on the top of your head, causing you to smile softly and reach upwards to run your fingers through his hair. A quiet purr rumbles in his throat as he leans into your touch, enjoying the attention you’re lavishing upon him instead of the book. You indulge him, knowing nights like this where you’re not needed by anyone else are few and far between. Astarion curls his fingers around yours, enjoying the way your hand neatly slots into his as if they were made for each other. Maybe they were, maybe you were always meant for him and vice versa. He quite likes that thought.

You play with a few strands of his silver hair, twirling them around a finger. “A flower wreath would look really nice on you.”

“Would it now?” Astarion would really rather you remain here until dawn breaks instead of going out to pick flowers, even if they are for him.

“It would. You will look really pretty with one sitting on your head like a crown.” You draw a ghostly circle around his head, mirroring where the flower wreath would sit before clapping your hands together. “That settles it! I’ll make you one!”

Astarion quickly moves to grab your arm, eyes wide as his mouth moves to convince you to stay, to not leave him yet. He’s ready to beg you to remain by his side for what remains of the night, afraid that someone might steal you away from him but you haven’t moved an inch from your spot.

“I still don’t know what flower to use,” you chuckle. “Guess I’ll have to stay here for the rest of the night, hope you don’t mind.”

“No, of course not, darling.” He swallows, shoving his embarrassment to the back of his mind. You lean against his chest, book tossed aside in favour of your lover and inhale his scent, blissfully snuggling against him. He holds you close, tracing patterns on your exposed skin until you fall asleep and he tucks you into your bedroll, pressing a kiss to your forehead and sneaks out of your tent, but not before wishing you a quiet goodnight that you’re far too deep in sleep to hear.

The matter of the flower crown gets pushed to the back of your mind and out of Astarion’s head in favour of more pressing matters as your party journeys on until you stumble upon the cave Shadowheart once lived in deep in the underground Sharran temple.

While the others search the cave for loot or lost childhood memories, a certain plant catches your eye — night orchids. You go about picking them, counting how many you would need for a flower crown that would fit Astarion’s head and are relieved to find there are sufficient night orchids in the cave for your endeavour. Stashing them safely in your pouch, you turn to gather the others and head off to the Sharran dorms for some much needed rest whilst letting Shadowheart take back as much of her lost memories as possible. She deserved that, at least, for all she’d been through.

You claim the bed closest to the back corner of the room and begin work, praying that you remember how to make a flower crown and fortunately, muscle memory saves the day as your fingers weave flower after flower into a circular shape. It’s not the best looking flower crown you’ve ever made, being out of practice, but it’s certainly passable. You turn the delicate object in your hands, checking it over before glancing upwards. Astarion was arguing with Wyll about the bottle of wine he definitely stole despite his claims of innocence and the others were enjoying the show, save for Gale who was cooking tonight’s dinner.

Slipping out of your bed, you sneak over to Astarion’s bed to deliver the goods before walking up to the group as if nothing happened, breaking up the fight that was escalating with the announcement of food.

When Astarion throws back the covers to lie down, he finds a flower crown sitting atop a book he remembers seeing you read before and stares at them, resisting the urge to throw the covers up again to remove the illusion. Surely he was hallucinating or something, no one would deign to personally handcraft something so beautiful and delicate just for him. Or maybe the giver had placed them on the wrong bed, any of the others maybe except for Lae’zel would appreciate such a gift.

“Do you like it?” Your voice sounds behind him. He turns around, nearly dropping the blanket on the flower crown.

“It’s for me?” He asks, confused.

“Yeah. It’s on your bed, is it not? Did I make a mistake?” You frown.

“No, you placed it on my bed.” Had you made the flower crown for him? Why did you spend such precious time and effort on him? The thing of beauty was wasted on someone like him, it would have been better off in the hands of anyone else, even Karlach despite her probably reducing it to cinders before it could properly rest on her head.

“That’s a relief. I thought I had the wrong bed for a moment,” you smile. “Well, goodnight then, Astarion.”

Before he can say anything, you’ve headed off to your bed, leaving him alone with his swirling thoughts. He gingerly picks the crown up, checking to see if anyone is paying him any mind before slipping out of the dorm and putting it on when he deems it safe enough to do so. His gaze falls upon a nearby mirror and sadness clouds his eyes when he realises he won’t be able to see how he looks like with the flower crown. His reflection will forever evade him, not even the tadpole could keep it from running away.

“You really do look pretty wearing it.”

“Why, thank you, darling.” Astarion smiles, taking a little bow. The action causes the flower crown to slip and when he straightens, it’s lopsided.

“Concentrate on the tadpole. I want to show you how you look with the flower crown on.”

Astarion blinks.

“Oh come on, don’t look at me like that. I hadn’t thought about using our tadpoles like this before until Gale pointed it out,” you huff. “I bet you haven’t thought about it either.”

“I —”

“Concentrate already.”

“As you wish, dearest.”

Astarion closes his eyes, concentrating on his tadpole’s connection with yours and when he opens his eyes, a pale silver haired elf stands before him, ruby red eyes piercing into his very soul. He really is pretty with the flower crown on, like you said. The dark blue colour of the night orchids stands in stark contrast against the silver of his hair, creating a halo of blue around his head.

When he next opens his eyes, he’s back in his own body, tears threatening to spill over.

“Thank you,” he manages to whisper, throat clogging up.

“You’re welcome,” you smile softly, reaching over to cup his cheeks. He closes the gap without hesitation, lips meeting yours in a dance of bliss and affection. The night lasts longer than usual, or maybe it was longer than a night but neither of you can tell from underground.

When Astarion heads back to his bed, he remembers the book that is still lying underneath its sheets — a book about flowers and their various meanings with a rather familiar bookmark sticking out of it. He flips to the marked page and the section is titled ‘Night Orchids’. At the end of the passage letters come together, forming a sentence that causes tears to cascade down his face.

Gift this sweet bloom to someone you believe is beautiful in their unique and special way.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion bg3 #astarion x durge #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #astarion romance #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion ancunin #tavstarion #durgestarion #bg3 fluff #bg3 fic

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dwindlinghaze · 6 months

Text

a flight to paris

(remus lupin x reader)

summary: you and remus have been in an established relationship for years but one day you received an unexpected break up call from him.

contents: she/her pronouns, modern!au, angst (?), break up, inspired by a barbie movie, my horrible english, i wrote this out of boredom, oh and this is a multipart :)

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

on most days you enjoy your summer holiday. you have a part time job in which you worked for a magazine, having your own personal workspace in the office headquarters and all.

your days are mostly surrounded by the latest style, magazine covers, hollywood gossip, and beautiful photoshoots of women. it was fun, really. that is if mr. wellins wasn't your boss.

he's a walking patriarchal figure. hate is not enough to describe your feelings towards that man.

"i don't think that's a good idea to put in there," you spoke during one of the meetings.

"what do you mean? it's a good one, everybody will be intrigued!" he scoffed.

you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, glancing at the others but they just gave you a warning look. no one dared to go against mr. wellins. "it just doesn't feel right y'know- to put that in there considering it's just an allegation and not confirmed?"

"but we focus on marketing here! who will pay your wage if it weren't for these nosy people who read and buy our magazines? we have to find a way to get our sales higher!" he said sternly, glaring at you with cold eyes.

"look here, if you put that article, surely our reputation will be stained. you don't want that to happen do you? we just need to find something else- something more positive and harmless but still eye catching. like the new box office movie that everyone has been talking about lately. it doesn't harm anyone, in fact it's supporting them. what do you think?"

every one of your co-workers nodded in agreement, waiting for the boss to reply.

he looked bored. "you know that flapping thing you just did with your mouth?"

"you mean- expressing my opinion on what's better for the sake of your company?"

"yeah that," he rolled his eyes. "stop doing that."

"i think y/n's right, makes me wish she were the boss," one of your co-workers mumbled under her breath.

he looked sharply at the girl, "i can easily fire you."

"oh no no, i feel like we just- need to discuss about this more you know?" you defended.

"oh get off this place. end of discussion!"

"we can talk like in the coffee shop, or the commissary-"

"not me getting off, you getting off. get out you're fired!" he slammed his fist.

"wha- what? fired?" you said breathlessly, eyes widen in shock.

you got to your car, speeding to get home and just curl up in the arms of your boyfriend- remus lupin. you needed him. his constant whispering of sweet nothings, his warm embrace, his smile that can rip away all negativity.

just like magic, your phone started ringing with remus in the other line. screen lighting up, his pretty face on the screen. you smiled, so big and decided to stop at one of the parking lots nearby.

"hello?" you heard the sweet voice of remus lupin.

"oh rem! i'm so glad you called!" you exclaimed, heart warming at his comforting voice.

"things aren't right with us and you know it. they haven't been for a while," he said. his ever-lovely voice that makes you feel safe was nowhere to be heard. your heart dropped, chest hurting all of a sudden.

"what?" you choked on the verge of sobbing. "remus come on."

"i'm breaking up with you... right now." he said it like you don't matter to him at all. you clenched your phone, eyes already hurting from the incoming tears.

"you're not... are you serious? what are you saying?" you thought your day couldn't get worse, but the universe said otherwise.

"it's over. and if you're smart, you'll forget i exist."

and just like that, the line disconnected. you couldn't stop the tears from falling out of your eyes. not only have you lost your job, you also have lost your remus.

you never thought he would ever break up with you. especially since you both were in a strong relationship of four years. no matter what problems appeared on the surface, they always got resolved.

wiping your tears away, you tried to drive safely to lily's house. your best friend. you needed someone to talk to. someone to pour your heart out.

"i lost my job and he broke up with me," you said in shame when she opened the door to see you with red rimmed eyes.

"he broke up with you because you lost your job?" lily gasped.

"no... separately," you sobbed. then you told her the whole story of how you've had lost your job and how he broke up with you on the phone in your car just then.

"what kind of guy does that!" lily said in disbelief. it's so not remus to break up with you like that. knowing how much he loves you since forever ago. you two are perfect for each other. nothing could ever compare to the bond you both had.

"i guess a guy with no real emotions," you huffed, reaching for lily's tissue.

lily suggested for you to call remus again, 'cause no way is someone like him said something like that to you. there was no response though, he's not answering.

"maybe you misunderstood. what did he actually say?" lily asked once more.

"he said that it was over, and if i were smart i'd forget he ever existed," his words ringing in your ears.

"does he speak another language where it means 'i love you'," lily tried, you shook your head.

"that's it," she picked up your phone. "i'm blocking him from your cell, e-mail, everything! you do not break up with anyone like that! when i'm done, we're gonna go somewhere that you love. a place where you feel happy and good about yourself."

"i wanna go far away," you mumbled.

"that's right, you should go far away and clear your head! forget about them. men are getting harder to like these days," lily agreed, snapping her fingers.

"i'll go far away... like aunt milicent's!" you said.

"aunt millicents?" lily asked.

"yeah she's a designer in paris. has a fashion house and everything. i always loved being there. tons of people, energy, fabrics, and dresses... and my aunt in the middle of it all! oh how i want to be like her when i grow up. that's it i'm going there!"

"super fun!" lily exclaimed, truly happy for you. "when are you going?"

"right now! i can spend the last weeks of summer vacation with her," you managed to crack a smile, "i don't need remus. what i need is to book a flight to paris."

"remmy, you can't help me with our summer project if you're on the phone all the time," jessica said, snatching remus' phone out of his hand.

"i just don't get it, i can't get through y/n at all!" remus said in exasperation, brows furrowing in confusion and worry clouding up his head.

"i'm sure she's fine," jessica said, fluttering her lashes.

remus was unconvinced, he couldn't focus the whole time. "it has been since yesterday."

"y/n is a busy person. she'll call when she gets the chance... in the meantime...," she jerked her head towards the script.

"do we have to tape that again... i'm not an actor, i probably sounded stupid," remus scoffed.

"you sounded beautiful," she said, smiling flirtatiously at him.

remus was too fogged up on the thought of you to notice her behaviour. you never ignore him like this. no matter how busy your lives were, you two always made time for each other.

"lils look!" marlene gasped, pointing at remus and jessica sitting together on the table across the room.

"oh no. don't tell me that boy dumped y/n for jessica," lily said in annoyance and disbelief.

the two of them walked over, crossing their arms. "are you kidding?" lily said coldly, shooting daggers at remus.

"lily, marlene! where's y/n?" remus asked, sitting up from his chair. he didn't know why they looked upset.

"why do you want to know?" marlene questioned.

"i can't reach her! i've called, i've texted, i've emailed. nothing worked. is she okay?" remus said desperately.

"y/n's fine. she wants nothing to do with the twat who dumped her over the phone!" lily scolded.

"wha- huh- dumped her?" remus asked in shock. he would never dump you. you're everything to him. "i would never do that, c'mon you guys know how much she means to me!"

"you know what uhh i actually need to run, see you," jessica said, slipping away from the table. nobody paid attention to her though.

"don't play dumb! she told us what you said 'it's over and if you're smart you'll forget i exist'."

"wait what?" remus exclaimed, eyes travelling towards jessica who was chuckling guiltily. "that line... a part of the script i read yesterday. don't say you recorded it and play it back to y/n," he said, eyes closing painfully.

"i'd be happy to tell you that," jessica said, batting her lashes. oh what a nerve. "it was a joke. i never thought she'd actually believed it. she must have serious doubts about the relationship."

remus ignored her, turning towards lily and marlene. "where's y/n? i need to see her now," he said, heart racing at the thought of you.

"uh- she's kind of..." lily slowly replied, eyeing marlene, urging her to finish the sentence.

"in paris."

"paris? paris, france? since when was she going to paris?" remus was panicking. he knew he messed up and he's willing to make it right again.

"uh a long story..."

"what should i do? i need to talk to her as soon as possible," he scrunched his hair, brows knitting.

"y/n went through a lot yesterday... you know what you can do to make her feel better? a grand romantic gesture! don't just call her. go book yourself a flight to paris, show up to her aunt milicent's doorstep, and prove how much you love her!" lily said.

"she'll love it!" marlene agreed.

"i'm on it," he opened his phone to search for a plane ticket. "i'll book the next flight out of london."

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin x reader fluff #remus lupin fic #remus x reader

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ktempestbradford · 8 days

Text

Lactation Influencers... Are Y'all Okay?

I dislike clickbait headlines as much as the next Gen Xer, but that does not make me immune to them. Thus, when I saw this headline...

Cookbook author speaks out following controversy over lactation cookies ad

...I had so many questions that demanded answers. I had to click.

Friends, I was not prepared for the journey I was about to embark on.

Before I even got to the first line of the article, this assaulted my eyes:

Whatever I was expecting, it wasn't that.

From the article:

Molly Baz is speaking out following controversy over a Times Square billboard featuring the pregnant cookbook author promoting lactation cookies. ... Brex, the company that sponsored Swehl's billboard, told ABC News the ad was removed following a message from Clear Channel, which owns the digital billboard. According to Brex, Clear Channel said the image depicted was "flagged for review."

Okay, but... lactation cookies?

According to Baz, the concept was meant to "empower" pregnant women and the cookies in the ad are marketed to help postpartum moms produce nutrient-dense breast milk.

*looks it up*

Y'all. They're called "BIG TITTY COOKIES"

I'll give you a minute to breathe through it.

Eye-rolling aside, this isn't the worst product I've ever heard of and, hey, maybe the cookies are good.

So why did Clear Channel want the ad gone? The answer to that isn't straightforward for a couple of reasons.

They did not remove the ad or even ask it to be removed from their billboard.

Molly Baz decided to use this opportunity tragedy to raise her profile as a lactation influencer the alarm about how men are misogynist (????).

"It's super disheartening and infuriating to me that my, kind of, first public foray into being a public mother was one that was deemed inappropriate," Baz said. Said Baz, "From my perspective, the imagery that we put together was no different from any of the other ads that are in Times Square." "[T]ake one look at the landscape of other billboards in times square and i think you'll see the irony. bring on the lingerie so long as it satiates the male gaze," Baz wrote...

I feel I can confidently say that I'm not being sex negative when I retort: MA'AM, what?

"There's a bit of a history of, I will say, a double standard that when bodies, specifically breasts are shown when it comes to selling lingerie, let's say, that's more acceptable but when it's something having to do with prenatal wellness or postnatal care, nursing, that tends to get flagged and we see a little bit of backlash," [Zoe Ruderman, a chief content officer for Adweek], added.

I know this is true in general, but in this case, is that what's really going on? After all, Clear Channel didn't even take the ad down permanently, and the marketing company provided an alternate ad without even being asked. One has to wonder if this is a manufactured controversy.

I say that even though I know full well that there is a double standard when it comes to women's bodies and whose gaze is being catered to and when it comes to lactating mothers, lactation, and women's health. That said, there's no way this image wasn't chosen for its Male Gaze Worthiness.

It's not the amount of exposed flesh, which isn't any worse than any lingerie or bikini ad. It is that this woman is holding cookies up to her breasts next to text that says "Just add milk" and the name of a website/company that is probably well-known to people who are or want to be pregnant and little known outside of that. If I were in Times Square, looked up, and saw that? I'd assume it's an ad for a sex fetish bakery.

In all honesty, the thing I assumed was controversial (before clicking) was that someone had posted an ad for cookies made using human breast milk. That would have made somewhat more sense as a controversy.

There's no way everyone involved in "concepting" this campaign (yes, they used concept as a verb in their official statement) didn't know this was a possible reaction or outcome. They appear to have expected it. Which is why they immediately had another ad to replace it and some very RAH RAH WOMEN! Down with the Patriarchy! social media posts likely on deck. That's real feminist of you, becky.

The disingenuousness of it all bothers me the most. Just because the social justice issue they're highlighting is real doesn't mean they are somehow champions of the cause because they dared to show a pregnant belly on a billboard. If anyone complained, I doubt their complaint was based on a prejudice against lactating mothers or that lactation was hinted at.

#manufactured outrage #lactation influencer #long post #long reads #just add milk

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kanmom51 · 8 months

Text

JK Radio Stationhead 1 October 2023

And a little more as well...

cr./and huge thanks to the translation accounts I used in this post.

I think this was the most interesting Stationhead we've had so far with JK. JK was chatty, informative (well, to an extent), I would maybe even say combative? Maybe that's a little too strong a term to use, but I do think he came to show that he is unbothered by the shitstorm going on and clap back just a little bit. And he knows about that shitstorm, make no mistake.

I see Jikookers falling for this hateful campaign against JK. Not only are they perpetuating it, but they are also adding to it, embellishing it, and spreading it.

By now JK has had several girlfriends named, he's a baby daddy (she was pregnant in Feb, so...), he's going on double dates with his mate Tae, trucking (censorship issues had me change that - you know exactly what it's meant to be) her with the windows and curtains open for all to see (after telling us he's aware he's being followed around including home). All this he managed to get done before he sat down and did hours on end of JM dedicated lives, calling him his fan, flirting with him online while in bed for all of us to see, and going on a 4 day private trip with him.

A very wise blogger once said: (@ourwinterspring, hope you don't mind me quoting your wise words):

Rumors are created by haters accepted by fools and spread by idiots

That. Just that!!!

People that called themselves Jikook supporters (I'm not talking about shippers, they are in this for their own self gratification, while supporters are supposed to be looking out for JM and JK and supporting them both individually and their relationship, which btw is still considered tabooed in their own country), they are rushing to conclusions, and aiding in the spread of these lies.

K-army laughed them off.

Chinese army are fighting them off.

And I army are just spreading them like wildfire.

Why this long winded introduction?

Because Jikook are in an impossible position really. They are a closeted queer couple in a country and industry that would not accept their relationship if it would become publicly known. As long as the door is open for deniability they are ok. Taking that step through that door and out of the closet, that is one hell of a step with many consequences, to them and to those who surround them.

JK is about to release his 1st solo album, and he's in the midst of trying to infiltrate the American and Western music market. To do so they are selling a very certain image, and being queer is not part of it.

They are also both before enlistment to the military.

Them going: "hey bitches, the stories are untrue, we're in a long term loving relationship", is not a realistic expectation. And no matter what JK would say otherwise, the rumours they are just gonna keep coming, cause this train, this coordinated smear attack, it's not finished. And if and when that would be done, we'd be back to Yubi and Rose and Lisa (oh, oops, she's with Freddie), and Miju. Ehm, she's married. But wait, since when has that stopped anyone, eh? It didn't stop the Nicole stories, which, btw, are still rampant, including among some Jikookers (?) - what the actual truck is wrong with people???

So, no Jikook announcement.

A company one? Kind of feel that one won't come either. Again, JK 3D promotions and upcoming album in mind. Not to mention, and this my friends is me being super cynical right now, other than the harassment claims, the company doesn't have a problem with these rumours, given it solidifies his bad boy, truckboy, heterosexual image they are selling right now. There, I said it.

But Jikook, JM and JK, they aren't happy with this. They can't be happy with this. As much as this image is a price to pay, on the way JK is sending us constant hints that it ain't all that you see. That he's a complex being. That he might appear one way in 3D, but another in Seven and another in his CK and Vogue photoshoots (the latter with him being the artistic designer and bringing along some outfits and/or accessories that he wanted himself), not to mention someone else all together in his long lives with us. He tells us this is him. Who we see. But those that only see that image in 3D are just not looking at the full picture he's painting.

This is him:

But also this:

And this:

They are all pieces of the puzzle that is one Mr. Jeon Jungkook. And I'm sure there are pieces we have yet to see.

It's funny that JK is singing 3D (basically having phone sex and wishing for more) but at the same time he's telling us "this is me in 3D". Not one dimensional. A complex grown up human being.

Btw, I kind of feel like I need to link this post again, seeing that so many are still thinking that having muscles, tattoos and piercings makes you heterosexual or at least bi. Cause, I mean, you must be sexually attracted to women if you are super masculine, and get tattoos or pierce your body, right?

Oh boy, this is a long one. I haven't even started with Stationhead, lol.

So, JK is trying to show us he's a complex human being. This is him. Not one MV or song he chose to sing. The full picture. The shoots he chooses, the concepts for his songs (do I have to remind of his Seven concept shoot?), his lives, what he shared with us (as in past tense cause Idk how much more he will with everything that's going on).

And in the midst of this, knowing you are in a committed relationship, having your integrity, your good name smeared, being with the person you love and knowing that the world not only doesn't see how dear you are to each other but also thinks you're being sexually intimate with multiple others. Not to mention, having to deal at this young age with the knowledge that there are people out there that hate you enough to want to hurt you on such a level, to ruin your good name, your career. It can be paralyzing. And they put on a brave face. JK says he knows people hate him and good for them, he'll continue to live his life. But it's hard, it's hurtful, and these two, they are the kindest sweetest people out there, they don't deserve this.

OMG, when will I finally get to the point?

I think about now would be a good time.

So, no speaking up. No announcement. But at the same time they don't want to just sit there and take it.

Phew, here we go?

JK came today, 1st October (or more so 1st Jimtober) to Stationhead after his 3D dance practice video landed (same day).

And by some strange coincidence (no coincidence at all), JM released his second #ThisisJimin dance clip to Dominic Fike's Phone Numbers with these lyrics, coincidentally:

Woah, Kenny! Why you not here with me? Can you break bread with me? Why you switch phone numbers like clothes? Why you can't answer me? (Yeah) 'Cause I got more coming

(Not a love song)

Using a prop. Wait for it...

Oh, and the outfits that happen to be kind of similar and sticking to the black and white.

I feel like I'm repeating myself here, but you know, sometimes you need to in order to hammer the message in.

And JK, well he also posted a selfie on Weverse (while on Stationhead).

1st Jimtober with his fave Jack Skellington.

So yeah. The little things. Those little codes that say "we are here, we are ok, all is well, this will definitely not break us."

Yes. I get all of that from those little things, lol.

But, it didn't end with that.

And here we are.

Finally at the precipice.

Well, not precipice per say. That's being a little dramatic. But I am finally going to get to JK on Stationhead, as in what we got from him during the show.

I guess with this long introduction I should start with the Jikook related, right?

Let's start with JK repeating the endearment JM used in his IG post for 3D.

And then JK basically confirmed that he and JM were together when drawing the cloud whale drawing JM shared with us on IG telling us JK drew it.

Making sure we know that they drew the whale together.

You don't have to understand Korean to hear the amusement in his voice. We don't know when this was taken (CT or perhaps more recently... although my initial thought was CT I'm kind of leaning to it being more recent, like very recent), but we know they were together. We thought so and now JK confirmed it.

Enjoyed confirming it.

He also brought up JM's birthday being this month. Yes, he could be reacting to comments, but we've discussed this multiple times in the past. You know. Choices. And in this case, his choice which ones to answer, right?

Once again, it's all in the way it's all being said. The "I know something you don't" tone of voice. The "a-ha, yeah, Uhah" while supposedly looking up if he's doing something on the day. The "I'm going to be busy...I see I have a schedule..?" ending with a question mark? As in "do I really?" Lol.

The way he was talking, the man has something planned. I really don't want to have any expectations here. But man, he's making it hard for me not to have them. Lmao.

And another JM related comment he chooses to answer:

This time you don't get the sassiness or teasing in his voice like we did with the JM birthday answer. Idk why they aren't doing each other's challenges. It's for them to know. We know JK was showing/teaching JM Seven moves. We know that JK knew SMF pt. 2 moves. I guess it's something they just decided between them. Or perhaps schedules didn't and aren't aligning. Who knows. And who knows, we might just get a surprise. Next phone song JM does could be 3D, lol.

Ok, so he saw his parents. He goes on to also talk about his mother's cooking (oh, that man is so in trouble with his mom calling her cooking bland, lmao). Kind of gathering from it all that JK was in Busan for the holiday. Could that photo JM shared, you know, the one JK made sure we know they both drew the whale on, have been taken when they were both down in Busan for the holiday? I wonder...

This here is, I feel, JK clapping back a little at the haters. But also telling us, once again, that he's an adult and does adult things. Knows how to work hard when needed, and when to "play hard", as in relax and have a good time, when allowed.

This one isn't about Jikook (well in a sense maybe it is, as it's about shooting down TKKs hopes and prayers, lol). JK clarifying Tae's story about him recording a song at JK's place and JK directing him.

So, no pre-planning, JK's reply "and I was like "suddenly"? And also letting us know Tae didn't record the final at his place. Burn, lol. Also answers (again - like in the Inkigayo live) a question about karaoke with Tae. More or less same answer. More or less "that's a no"?

And this I already shared with you guys:

This is basically JK. Again, when he says I'm showing you my true self. It's not the image of the hunky guy with the sexy expressions doing that sexy choreography with the female dancers hands on him. Well not only. It's the shy introvert that feels awkward when these women are touching him. And just to be clear here. This isn't me saying anything about his sexuality. But it's definitley me saying he is not this careless truckboy people are so badly wanting him to be. Being an adult and having sex (let's call it rex from now on), a lot of it, enjoying it, doesn't make it the core of who you are as a person, doesn't mean you are having rex with multiple people for the only pursual of physical gratification nor does it mean that the rex you are having is necessarily with a female even if you are singing a song saying girl in it, to which the lyrics were not written by yourself. JK also sang a song about having rex 7 days a week, but with that one person, in his words, wanting to be all the time with "the love of my life". See, that was a little slip of the tongue by him, lol. But very revealing. Thank you ever so much for that one JK.

Do you understand the difference here?

One being lyrics to a song he's performing, him being a singer. Lyrics he didn't write himself.

The other is his explanation, his take on the meaning of the song he is singing (also not written by him). Inserting that little very personal touch.

Do we get it? JK isn't the lyrics, the lyrics aren't JK.

Oh, and by the by, JK's lyrics aren't referencing multiple partners. If we are being all about "but he's singing it, so it must be who he is". The multiple partners, the truckboy image, that's Jack Harlow's bit. JK is still talking to one person.

But again, I stress, the song doesn't represent JK as a person or his character. And those that are making that leap are simply...

Moving on.

JK's asked which he prefers more? 7 or 3D. Very diplomatically makes sure we know that at the time he liked Seven and now it's leaning more towards 3D. Well duh, this is him promoting it. Then he combines the two to 7D.

"What's your favourite part of 3D?" Him asking the listeners.

JK talked about eating chicken, being busy practicing all the time (I am curious to know what for), finishing up and going home to workout, shower and sleep.

He also talked about GCF and his appreciation for Army.

Asked about music or variety show, and the answer is probably not, it's hard for him (this is where the shy introvert part of him wins, I guess). It's easier to be alone on a stage in front of thousands performing than have to interact one on one with people that you aren't as familiar or comfortable with. On stage you go after much practice. Small talk and interviews and socializing means having to be focused (neuro divergent prince here) and it's so so hard for a shy introvert to deal with. Key word ALONE.

Although he's asked about further plans he's adamant not to give spoilers (well, more so afraid he'll be told off by the company, lol).

He misses the old days I guess. Of Kakao Fancafe. The intimacy of it. The safety of it perhaps.

He also wants to cook for army.

I feel like him telling us he is pulling back on the lives, allowing for the mystery, well he's also missing those lives. He needs that connection with his fans. Maybe even more so with this path he's going down, disconnecting from the idol and becoming the mega star. He needs that emotional connection with his fans. But at the same time, a more intimate setting, where he can really connect with them, is something he prefers.

And again, the connection with Army.

About the members:

F u c k , this is getting way too long. I can't talk about it all. I will add a couple more things and leave it at that. My apologies.

So, this is another clap back from JK:

Oh, and this was curious.

Ooh, one last thing.

He finally tells us where he got the scar on his shoulder from. Well, not too glamorous, lol. He slipped and fell while running in the car park shooting the CK ad. Hurt his finger as well, but that has healed already by now.

JK ending with:

Funny how the little things just added up. All very little perhaps inconsequential actions as of themselves, but add them together and you get a message.

One you will see if only you wish to.

Oh, and end comment. This is utterly disgusting and childish and I'm at a total loss for words here.

We have 2 more of these coming, if I'm not mistaken. Will be interesting to see what we get next.

#Jungkook #JK #JK 3D #JK stationhead #Jikook #Kookmin #Minkook #Jimin #JM

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stayevildarling · 1 month

Text

Wilhemina Venable x Cordelia Goode x Reader- I miss you, I'm sorry

A/N: I got inspired by listening to the song ,,I miss you, I'm sorry'' by Gracie Abrams and this is the result 🤷‍♀️

word count: 7k

tw: sad, breakup, happy ending

taglist: @lunaticwhittaker, @billiebeanhoward @lanawinters-ily, @kenzbro, @minaslittleone, @httpfiftyshadesofgay @whitelotus00, @ninaahs , @vintagepaulson , @isle-of-earle, @paulsonsratched, @stepintomyworld, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @lucyintheskywithxanax, @fanfics4world, @mymiraclewitch, @hazard-to-myself, @awritersometime, @ohrwurm26, @wastdstime

It was simple really, so simple, yet today had tested you in ways you hadn't been tested before. Finally deciding to do something useful with your weekend off, you decided to head to the markets, maybe even strolling through some shops. Despite wanting to mope and bury yourself inside your apartment, not doing much other than staring at the ceiling or maybe doing some reading. A lilac candle, that's all it took, that same shade of lilac bringing you back to everything you know, bringing you back to them.

Them- you aren't sure how you would describe them to someone, maybe the sun and the moon? maybe soft glances shared, eyes locking and a steady but safe hand on your thigh at all times. Maybe yellow and purple? you aren't sure. And despite it having been so long now, you still remember everything, the way their touches felt on your skin, the way their voices sounded, the way their lips would feel on your own. Cordelia and Mina. Supreme to the academy, HR to a very important company. Your former girlfriends.

It's like everywhere you go it brings you back to them, a building looking a little too familiar to the coven, a colour reminding you a little too much of them. And today a simple lilac candle was enough, strolling through the markets, trying to have a good time and do some forgetting, instead you are pulled back into the past. With trembling hands and tear stained eyes, you make your way back to the nearest bus stop, cutting some corners to get there quicker as the last thing you currently want is embarassing yourself in public like this, despite not a lot of people caring either way, too busy with their own lives.

And then just like that, faith decides to have different plans for you, bumping into a stranger and landing on the floor as a result, quickly blinking some tears away as you open your eyes. However, the person in front of you was definitely no stranger. As soon as your eyes land on their legs, exposing the long flowy pants and those all too familiar shoes, you know exactly who is standing in front of you. Cordelia. You find her brown eyes locking with your own, staring at you, both in shock, sadness, concern and at last love. ,,Y/N'' she surprisingly gasps, blinking away the shock. ,,Here let me help'' she tries, holding out her hand to you. For a second you have no desire of taking it, but the temptation for even the smallest chance to feel her soft hand again too strong.

Quickly you compose yourself, clearing your throat and trying very hard to ignore the lump in your throat and the way your eyes were about to betray you. You can't help it, taking in her all to familiar features, the soft blonde slightly curled hair, that sweater you adore with the flowers on. However she looks tired, your Delia often looked tired, especially on the weekends after a busy week in the academy, looking after her girls and all the responsibilities on her shoulders. There was something else about the little bags under her eyes and the absence of that sparkle in her brown orbs. ,,I'm so sorry'' you practically blurt out, her eyebrows knitting in confusion at your statement.

,,For um- bumping into you'' you quickly compose yourself. She nods then, her lip doing that little thinking thing she would always do. There is a painful silence, not an awkward one, painful, neither of you being able to find the right words. ,,So - how have you been sweetheart?'' she asks, her eyes searching yours and that's enough. The simple pet name sending waves of heartache and pain all over you, making your heart physically hurt at the damage she just caused. ,,Fine, how about you?'' you quickly reply, wanting to escape this situation as soon as possible. She pauses then for a moment, thinking back to the last year without you. ,,It's been hard'' she truthfully tells you and it takes you by surprise, thinking she wouldn't be honest in this moment.

,,I'm sorry to hear that'' you quickly announce, glancing towards the bus stop to check the time table and hoping it would show up any moment so you could leave. But there is no bus in sight, the timetable too far away for your eyes to be able to read it. ,,How's.. how's Mina?'' you ask, absentmindedly almost. And that's when it hits Cordelia, that same heartache and pain crashing over her features. The way you said her name with such ease, sending moments through her head, little flashbacks of when you used to call your other girlfriend just that. ,,She-'' Cordelia pauses then, unsure what to say, the last year having been a lot of things but easy. ,,She's fine'' the supreme eventually explains, unsure how to explain a year worth of events to you just like that. You simply nod, that being all the confirmation you needed.

,,Y/N I-'' she begins and by the way her voice shakes you know exactly what she is about to do. ,,Delia please don't'' you try, tilting your head a little as you search her eyes. You don't want her to say those words, as she or rather they had said them before. You don't want to go back to that place of heartbreak. ,,I really need to get going, my bus is about to get here'' you compose yourself, tensing your shoulders a little to make your statement any more believable. ,,Y/N I- We miss you, I'm sorry'' she almost whispers the words and your eyes close then, having to force them close in order not to cry in front of her in the middle of the busy streets.

She notices, of course she does, Cordelia always noticed absolutely everything, and she frowns then, feeling bad but she couldn't stop herself, having not seen you in so long and undeniably missing you. It had been hard on all of them, the witches at the coven- who eventually became your friends and family. Wilhemina- the thought of her little one not being around killing her. And so you stand there, surrounded by the busy streets, cars zooming past you, your bus long having left, the sun slowly setting, tears streaming down your eyes, your breath hitching and chin wobbling. The blonde watches in silence, in pain, feeling terrible to open up those wounds again, a part of her wishing she never said those words.

There had always been something about your connection to Cordelia, the quiet love, the silent one where neither of you needed to have big conversations in order to bring your feelings across. And despite it being a year, there is something so painful about seeing her like this. You had often thought about it, maybe bumping into them again, maybe in the summer both of them strolling around the markets, maybe in December, running the annual errands for Christmas at the coven. And each time those thoughts crossed your mind, you saw them happy, healthy almost glowing as they walked beside each other hand in hand. But seeing her so tired and vulnerable and honest caused all that strength and stubbornness about showing your feelings in front of her to fade.

,,Y/N I'm so sorry'' she tries, reaching out to wipe your tears but she stops herself just in time, knowing she has no right to do that anymore, often ridding you of your tears in the past. ,,It's fine Cordelia'' you finally manage to muster up, angrily wiping your tears and stopping your pathetic cries. You take a step back, putting a distance between you two, wanting to go so badly, knowing you had been right here before.

,,I should really get going now'' you announce, averting her gaze and glancing towards the bus stop, sighing in frustration as you notice the last one had left. Of course Cordelia knew, being the supreme and all and so her eyes draw you back towards her. ,,Can I take you home please?'' she almost whispers, biting her lip to hide her own anxiety, despite her voice betraying her. Instinctively, you take another step back, shaking your head no. ,,I don't want you to be stranded here in the dark'' she argues back, her voice soft despite the circumstances. And then it dawns on you, how long the two of you had actually been standing there, despite not a lot of words being exchanged, how you left for the market in the afternoon and it being incredibly late now. You could easily walk, despite that taking about an hour for sure, possibly even calling an uber despite that being expensive and you not being the richest.

The exhaustion from seeing her again, crashes down on you like a tidal wave, drowning you in fatigue and sleepiness. Fighting back a yawn, you meet her eyes, blinking away the exhaustion. ,,Come on, I'm just parked around here'' she tries again and sometimes you hated her stubbornness but you could never say no to her- not your Delia and so without having much of a say, your legs take over and follow the woman, catching a sense of the all too familiar perfume and scent of honey and vanilla- home. Sensing your exhaustion, she opens the door to her car for you, offering to buckle you in but you quickly refused, that definitely being too much and bringing too many memories and flashbacks back.

And so with no words exchanged, she begins driving aimlessly at first until you tell her the address. Her phone must have automatically connected to her car as the screen lights up and an all too familiar song begins playing softly in the background. ,,Landslide'' by Fleetwood Mac. And even that is enough to send aches towards your heart again. The car ride is silent and part of you can't believe you are back in that place. Back in that same car, the same little air freshener you had purchased for her almost two years ago. It's a Yankee candle one, vanilla as it reminded you of her and a part of you wonders in your tired state, why she had kept it as the smell had long given up, needing replacement.

But then just like by some magical force, fate again gives you the answers to your question as the screen lights up, Wilhemina's number on the screen, her name and the contact photo with you, Cordelia and Wilhemina. You remember that day well, the day after your birthday when Delia bought you a little polaroid camera with some films and how for that entire day you went around the academy, collecting glimpses of your favourite places and people, eventually snapping one of the three of you, despite Wilhemina's protests. And then it dawns on you, she hadn't forgotten about you, she hadn't even moved on to begin with. Her face meets yours, quickly declining the phone call, knowing this would be too much for you, hearing her voice again. She plays it cool, humming along to the song as if nothing happened. As if that call and the evidence of the photo didn't just betray her like that. And confirming her statement when she said things had been hard.

It takes about thirty seconds for the screen to light up again and given that you are still a good ten minutes from your apartment, you simply look at her and mutter ,,You can answer it''. She hesitates at first but knowing Wilhemina's impatience and the fact she had said she would only pop out for about an hour to get some things and it now being late and leaving Wilhemina with the academy and all the witches, she answers. ,,Hi honey'' she speaks softly as if nothing is happening as if their shared ex- you- isn't sitting in her car right now. And for some reason that angers you, realistically what do you expect her to say?

,,Is everything alright?'' her voice finally rings through the speaker. And for some reason that breaks you even more, you had missed Cordelia in every way you could miss a person over the last year but Wilhemina? her safe comforting presence? her sternness and the way she would look out for you? you had missed that equally as much. They said forever back then and you almost bought it, you even miss fighting in your old bedroom, breaking dishes when Mina was disappointed and then it dawns on you- you still love them.

,,Yes I'm fine darling, just taking care of something before heading home'' Delia announces, pulling you away from the heartache and back into the present. And for some reason you just wanna blurt into the speaker, ask Cordelia to take you home- truly your home and not the apartment you had been staying at for the past year as your home was them, the academy with your family. ,,Okay be safe'' her voice rings through the car again before the call disconnects. Neither of you speak, the remainder of the drive deadly silent as all you want to do is collapse on your bed and cry yourself to sleep, unsure whether sleep would even be an option tonight. And at the same time, you never want the drive to end, feeling an odd amount of content being with her again, despite it all.

,,It's just here'' you announce, pointing towards the building and as she stops the car, you sigh before collecting your bag and opening the door. ,,Th- Thank you'' you mutter out before exiting her car, not even looking back anymore before practically running inside, banging your apartment door shut and collapsing onto your bed. Her car remains outside of your building for a while, wanting nothing more than to run after you but she needed to get home, despite home not feeling very much like it without you.

The pain is unbearable as you sob heavily into your pillow, her scent somehow still lingering in the air, her voice and words repeating over and over again in your head. You are still confused and you had been for a year, about what had actually happened and you try very hard to convince yourself that this was better, that you are better without them. But the but's are too loud in your mind right now, reminding you of all the reasons you love them, of all the reasons you should go back to them.

Your relationship with Wilhemina and Cordelia started almost fairytale like, you had known both women from the academy, living there for several years after figuring out something about you had always been a little odd and stumbling over the academy in your mid twenties. You had always known Cordelia as the supreme and headmistress, before eventually Wilhemina joined as the supremes helper and secretary, you believed at first. However, it quickly dawned on you that they shared more than that. And you were almost disappointed then, always thinking you and the blonde had some sort of connection. But quickly you learnt their shared interest towards you, Wilhemina chatting unusual much with you and wanting to learn about things from your life. Cordelia unusually interested in helping you with your witch craft, despite having the hang of it by then.

And then slowly it turned into a little more, their eyes following your every move, their hands often lingering on yours, the pet names, the invitations just to have dinner with them rather than everyone else, the walks in the garden with Cordelia, the evening tea dates by the fireplace with Wilhemina. And so slowly they opened their private and sacred little life to you, welcoming you in it without question, never questioning the age gap, never questioning the fact it's one more person than most people allow in a relationship. The matching piece as if you had always been there. But somewhere along the lines, throughout the months slowly turning into years, something wasn't working. In the end they had changed, Wilhemina often very agitated, always having a sterner and colder side but taking it out on you more, almost becoming a little physical with you as the last argument involved her throwing around some dishes in frustration.

Cordelia had surprisingly changed too, the academy always being a priority to her but in that time, she never left her office, often you and Mina tried to coax her out of it but she wouldn't leave, often just spending the nights in her office, leaving the loneliness with you and Wilhemina and also the arguments. You felt like you invaded their perfect life and after some more arguments and harsh words you decided to leave, not wanting to intrude on them anymore, not wanting to be intimidated by their love they have for each other anymore. You doubted your decision so many times, from being so happy with them, your life perfect and having all you ever wanted, to being continuously sick to your stomach with heartache and misery.

As the pain and memories continue to drown you in it's intensity, the supreme had made her way to the academy, finding a worried Mina, noticing her change of demeanour and how tired her shoulder looked as she finally made it back to their bedroom. ,,Honey?'' the redhead tried and then it equally poured out of the blonde, telling her about the encounter with you, causing you to cry, how much she misses you and how bad she feels for driving you away. Wilhemina watches in pain as Cordelia sobs into her shoulder, the mere mention of you, causing that same pained expression on Wilhemina's face it had for a year. And so in full circle the night comes to an end, taking the three of you back to the only thing you know- your relationship.

As Cordelia awakens the next morning, confusion washes over her features finding the usual occupied spot next to her empty, shuffling a little before she feels a pounding headache, causing her to fall back on her pillow, probably due to the crying the night prior. Meanwhile Wilhemina has been up early, not being able to sleep a wink, the memories of you keeping her awake during the night. And then when the morning sun finally filtered through the bedroom, she had decided to take matters into her own hands. And with now trembling hands, she finds herself outside of your apartment. Despite not being a witch, the redhead had her ways of finding out things, never having been at your new adress before and if Cordelia knew the lengths her girlfriend went through to find you, she would be left crying again, instead of the headache causing her to fall back to sleep.

The knocking slowly brings your consciousness back, away from sleep that eventually came, despite being broken. At first you thought it was a dream but as the knocking continues, you slowly rise from bed, almost stumbling and falling over your own feet, before making it to your door and opening it, your mind still asleep almost. As you suddenly take in the glimpse of her, you feel like dreaming, not having seen her for an entire year. And just like Cordelia, she looked tired, the little bags under her eyes all the evidence and by her posture and grip on her cane, you can tell she was nervous. You don't say anything, simply taking in her features, your mind convinced this was just a dream and some trick your mind was playing on you. But you enjoyed it nevertheless, taking in the outfit plastered in lilac, her brown eyes piercing right through you and her mere presence causing for your heart to ache.

,,Mi-na'' you whisper, not even aware of how long you had been standing there or that your eyes are again pouring with tears. ,,Y/N'' she speaks softly, her hand twitching as all she wants to do is wipe your tears, wipe your pain and take you into her arms. ,,May I speak with you?'' she tries softly and as if you are suddenly awaken, you welcome her inside, very grateful that your place was spotless. As you walk towards your living room, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the little mirror in your hallway, quickly adjusting your hair that was still messy from sleep and angrily wiping your tears. And then as she takes a seat across from you, it suddenly dawns on you this was no dream, the same perfume and sense of lavender lingering in the air. ,,Would you like some water? or tea?'' you ask politely but she is quick to decline with a head shake.

Silence follows and while the redhead internally scolds herself for not thinking this through properly and trying to find the right words for while she is actually there, sitting in your apartment, you are drowned in flashbacks. The painful ones, the last ones with them. It had been some hard weeks, the coven under the careful inspection of the council due to some incidents with some younger witches, Wilhemina in especially bad pains due to her back. They didn't appreciate you at the time, simply acting as if you are another witch at the academy, not realising how much you actually made their lives better. And then one thing led to another and the three of you drifted apart, every day ending up in arguments, fights, the worst one when Wilhemina on an especially bad day lost her temper in a bad way with you, the two of you in the kitchen, you pushing her a little too much about her pains and how maybe she needed to see a doctor. Her really not in the mindset to even think or talk about it and eventually taking her anger out on you and the dishes in the kitchen. And when Cordelia practically ran downstairs, it was too late, tears filled in your vision, that face that they both never forgot. That face when you gave up, all the good memories of meeting them, of belonging with them, replaced with bad ones. And despite their efforts, it all fell down and you slipped their grasp.

,,Cordelia mentioned seeing you yesterday'' she finally speaks as she clears her throat. Bringing you right back into the present, the flashbacks slowly fading from your mind.

And you knew how much how she hated this. How Wilhemina really wasn't one to have these kind of conversations and you can't help but wanting to make it easier for her. ,,Is she okay?'' you question, concern lingering on your features, wondering why Mina showed up so early on your doorstep as you catch a glimpse of the clock on your living room wall.

,,She-'' the redhead hesitates then, averting your gaze and glancing out the window.

,,She- We miss you'' she confesses, her statement taking you by surprise.

,,I miss you too Mina'' you confess, a small but painful smile creeping it's way onto your features.

That was enough for her, the simply nickname causing for her heart to ache, eyes to close as she holds back the pain. ,,I'm sorry'' you whisper, tears swelling up in your eyes again as suddenly a wave of regret washes over you. Regret for leaving, for not trying again, for never going back.

,,Would you come back to the academy with me?'' she suddenly asks, again taking you by surprise. ,,We would like to talk to you'' she carries on, noticing your hesitation at first and wanting to confirm her intentions.

And the redhead is unaware that you would have said yes already, despite unsure what she was implying. After seeing them again, all you want to do is lay in their arms. All you want to do is forget about everything and move on with them but you also know it wasn't that easy. And so in response, you simply stare at her, unable to actually bring any words out as your heart simply aches. Your silence worries the redhead, unsure if she made a mistake coming here, opening the old wounds again. However Wilhemina never let you go like that, she had observed quietly from a distance, keeping in touch with some girls from the academy on how you had been doing, where you had moved and what you had been doing in the past year. Wilhemina was stubborn but the true reason for letting you go was she felt like you deserved better, better than her outbursts, better than either of them too busy or stressed to appreciate you. But after hearing Cordelia's words and seeing your state, she doubts whether that was a good idea and whether maybe just maybe she, they, would be better for you.

And as silence continues, she sits there, unsure whether to just leave you alone, whether to just take you into her arms. Her brown eyes meet yours again as your gaze is focused somewhere on a wall, staring into nothingness. ,,I'm sorry Y/N'' is all she whispers before balancing on her cane and walking towards the door, misreading your silence. And then within seconds the door closes and you let her slip away, not running after her, not begging for her forgiveness, not saying yes and and coming back with her. You simply sit in silence, before darkness consumes you and a mixture of sleep and a breakdown washes over you, drowning you.

By the time you wake up, Wilhemina had long ago made her way back to the academy, of course not mentioning any of this to Cordelia. The redhead had a hard time coping with rejection and she couldn't tell her blonde girlfriend how she had gone to see you, not wanting to get her hopes up. The rest of the day Wilhemina spends in silence, sitting at her desk, staring at the little photo frame of the three of you that you had purchased for her for one of her birthdays and she never took it down, occasionally shoving it into her desk drawer when Cordelia would ask about it a little too many times. And as dawn begins breaking over the city, the sky filled with little stars, you suddenly find yourself outside those very familiar black iron gates and an all too familiar white building.

Somehow you woke from your state and your feet took you straight there, without even changing your clothes, without taking anything with you. You had ran, for hours, aimlessly through the rain, through the city until your heart guided you to where you wanted to be. And so, half drenched and out of breath, you stand in front of the front door, contemplating whether to actually knock, your confidence suddenly knocked from you, similar to the breath knocked from your lungs as you gasp for breaths. What if they are busy? What if they aren't even in? What if they didn't want to see you? However your thoughts are drawn out, when Cordelia noticed a presence by the door, just having finished cleaning the kitchen after dinner and her supreme senses alerting her of a presence.

Without a care in the world, she opens the door, exposing you there, your eyes staring at her as you still struggle to catch your breath, your hair and clothes dripping from the pouring rain. ,,Y/N?'' she almost gasps, expecting anyone but you. She had longed for this so long, for you to finally come back to them, after the countless attempts of her calling, texting you, even trying to find your location through her magic within the past year, eventually giving up, thinking they had driven you away. ,,Are you okay sweetheart?'' she questions, her head tiling to the side a little, as she frowns at your state.

,,May I come in?'' you begin, finally having the ability to breathe properly again. ,,That's if- um- you aren't busy'' you ramble on before your own anxiety betrays you ,,I guess- you know- I can come back another time'' you hastily stumble over your words, heart beating loudly against your chest as you think over your decision of coming here. As if your heart had somehow led you there and only now your brain kicking in and telling you this was a mistake and to run.

,,No- please sweetheart, come on in'' she invites, with a gentle warm smile, making all the worries melt away.

And so you step inside, following her as she leads you through the white hallway, past the kitchen and dining room, reminding you of all the times you had cooked together, all the times you had shared meals together. Past the living room, where you catch a glimpse of the sofa and fireplace, your safe space where the three of you spent many evenings and weekends together, in the comfortable embrace of each other. Eventually, she leads you up the stairs, halting in front of Wilhemina's office before she turns back to you.

,,Did you come here to see us? or did you want to talk to me?'' she tries, still thinking Wilhemina and you hadn't seen each other since the year before and worrying what your reaction would be like seeing each other.

,,Both of you'' you quickly explain, a little confused as to why Wilhemina wouldn't have mentioned seeing you this morning. She nods, before gently knocking on the redheads office door, waiting for a faint reply.

,,Come in'' she announces and you stand awkwardly behind Cordelia as she opens the door.

,,Darling, Y/N is here to see us'' she explains, scanning the redheads features, unsure how Wilhemina would react. But to her surprise, Wilhemina's features soften, almost relief painting her face as she sees the frame of you behind the supreme.

Cordelia steps aside, allowing you to enter and so you enter, standing a little awkwardly in her office as a shiver runs down your spine. As soon as Wilhemina's eyes fall on you, you feel embarassed. Your cheeks coated in red, standing there soaked and still a little out of breath.

,,Please, take a seat sweetheart'' Cordelia invites you, pointing towards one of the chairs, opposite the redhead and you comply, grateful to get a chance to sit after wandering through the city aimlessly for hours.

Cordelia notices your shivering form and without a word, she walks to a corner before reaching for a blanket and handing it to you. Your eyes meet hers and you take it with shaky hands, averting your gaze as you wrap it around yourself. ,,How do you two feel about some tea?'' she asks and Wilhemina simply nods gratefully, you simply agreeing as well as the supreme leaves you both for a minute.

The room fills with silence as every corner of this house feels it's haunted, every piece of furniture, every room reminding you of your time at the academy, reminding you of your time with your former girlfriends and the memories you had made with them. And when Wilhemina clears her throat, you suddenly shiver in your chair, pulled back into the present. ,,I- I'm sorry to just show up like this'' you apologise, finding the courage to meet the redheads gaze on you.

,,Nonsense Y/N, you are always welcome here- this is your home'' she suddenly blurts out, her own confusion written over her features as if some invisible force took over and made her say the words, lingering on her mind.

Her statement both surprises you and shoots a pang of guilt straight towards your heart. Silence follows as you glance around her office, noticing that not a lot had changed, other than some new plants, that you assume Cordelia had gotten for her. And when your eyes linger on her desk, you recognise the picture frame, wondering whether the same picture was still in it or whether she had replaced it with one of just her and Cordelia. Thinking of the blonde, she enters the room with a little tray, pot of tea and three cups placed neatly on it. With a smile she begins pouring the three of you and handing you a warm mug, the steam forming patterns as you wrap your hands around it, soaking in the warmth.

After she takes a seat next to you, you somehow feel obligated to speak, explain what you are doing here but your words leave you as you struggle to explain. Cordelia ever perceptive, notices the way neither you or her girlfriend share that same painful first meeting after the breakup experience and she can't help but wonder when the two of you had met again, before it suddenly dawns on her, how Wilhemina had been gone this morning, mysteriously showing up again some time later and hiding in her office all day, not even showing up for dinner with the girls, despite the supreme's best efforts. And when the realisation hits of how Wilhemina had reached out to see you, after breaking down in her arms the night before, it almost brings tears to her eyes.

Cordelia and Wilhemina's eyes meet as they take in your quiet form, your eyes focused on the cup of tea, the two of them deciding without words who would speak first, knowing this must be hard on you and the redheads eyes practically begging the blonde to do this part. And with a nod, the supreme begins to speak ,,I'm- We are so glad you are here'' she reassures as she meets your gaze, your eyes locking with her brown ones. A small smile creeps its way onto your features, slowly giving you the confidence to speak.

,,I'm honestly not sure what I'm doing here'' you admit with a nervous chuckle before glancing at Wilhemina. ,,But after seeing you both again, I just ended up here somehow'' you admit.

,,I'm sorry for the way things went this morning'' you apologise to Wilhemina and then she meets her girlfriends gaze, silently apologising for not filling her in on the events but she is met with nothing but understanding from the blonde.

,,I shouldn't have come by unannounced like that'' the redhead admits, slowly taking a sip from her cup, before gently placing it on her desk. ,,I'm sorry little one'' she adds quietly.

And that's enough, enough to make you falter, pour your heart out in front of them, as the words pour from your mouth, tears equally pouring down your cheeks.

,,I haven't been able to think about anything else other than you two in this past year, I'm sorry for leaving, I'm sorry for not coming back home and I miss you both so much, I'm sorry'' you apologise over and over again.

Their hearts equally break at your statement, Cordelia having missed her little sunshine so much, Wilhemina having missed her little one equally as much, if not even more over the past year.

,,Everything I know brings me back to us, Everywhere I go it leads me back to you'' you admit, almost guiltily as you try and wipe your tears, despite them keep pouring.

,,Sweetheart'' Cordelia finally speaks ,,We have missed you so much'' she explains, Wilhemina's serious expression confirming the blondes statement, making it all the more believable.

And then her hands find yours as she gently places your cup on the desk, taking both of your hands into her own. ,,I owe you an apology'' she begins, tears already lingering in her brown orbs. ,,I didn't make enough time for you.. both'' she admits, glancing at Wilhemina as well.

,,I should have never let the academy get between us three'' she finishes, tears now flowing down her cheeks and for some reason you feel the urge to wipe them away but something holds you back.

,,I- I should have reached out to you more, tried to get you to come back to us but at the time I thought it was for the best but in these last few months I have missed you so much. This is your home, you belong here'' she explains, squeezing your hands a little tighter to underline the honesty in her statement.

Wilhemina watches in silence, waiting for Cordelia to finish her apology. She takes a deep breath, her hand gripping tighter around her cane before she speaks ,,I'm sorry too little one''. And that's all she can say for the time being, but you know it came from her heart as those words must have already taken a lot. And so in silence, the three of you sit, the only sound to be heard the silence of the academy and occassional shuffling from some witches downstairs. And with their questioning gazes, you know the question lingering on their minds, but somehow a sense of doubt washes over you, filled with some anxiety. Right now, you can't imagine simply going back to how things were and a part of you doubts that could ever happen again, you worry about your dynamics and how it might have changed even between them in the past year.

,,I don't know what you want sweetheart, but we will always be right here for you'' she reassures and with that statement she makes you doubt again, whether to just falter, forget about the past and move on with them.

And then some invisible force takes over again as exhaustion from the past two days suddenly hit you, causing you to go incredibly quiet and with knowing glances the two of them remember quite well what you are like, whenever you are tired. ,,Are you tired sweetie?'' Cordelia tries and you try and snap yourself out of the sleepiness, blinking some of it away, causing their heart to swell up with love as they see you so tired and adorable. ,,Um yeah'' you shily admit, before Cordelia gives you a little smile.

,,Why don't you stay the night?'' she offers but your heart instantly sinks at her offer. ,,Your old room is still free'' she admits and it swells your heart when you hear they kept it for all these years, despite eventually sharing Cordelia's bedroom with them. And in the blink of an eye, the blonde takes you to your old room, leaving you some warm and dry clothes on the bed, before bringing you some water and leaving you to rest. And after changing, you finally collapse on your bed, unable to think much more about the past or current events and sleep knocks you out gently, guiding you towards dreams softly.

After a while, the two of them settle into bed as well, Cordelia glancing at her girlfriend before whispering ,,What do you think?'' her own anxiety betraying her a little bit. ,,I'm just glad our little one is home where she belongs'' the redhead replies, before pressing a kiss to the supremes forehead and sleep equally greeting them.

It's the middle of the night when you finally wake up from sleep, confused at first at the familiar but unfamiliar surroundings at the same time. Slowly memories from the previous night fill your mind and after blinking the sleep away, you sit up in bed, wrapping the blanket a little closer around you as you notice the change of clothes and Cordelia's soft smell lingering on the clothes she had given you. Glancing around your old bedroom, you notice how empty it was, considering you took all of your belongings to their bedroom in the end, however you notice a stack of something on the desk in the corner and your curiosity gets a hold of you. With slow and gentle steps you walk towards it, the little lamp in the corner that Cordelia had kept on for you, providing you with some light. On the desk you find a stack of letters, neatly wrapped in a purple ribbon and you can't help but take a seat and slowly remove the ribbon before opening some letters.

And with the first one your eyes are already lingering with tears, recognising Wilhemina's handwriting.

,,Dear little one,

Today it's Christmas, our first one without you. As you probably know, I'm not big on these things but seeing Cordelia so sad today, made me miss you even more. I hope that wherever you are, you are happier now, celebrating Christmas with people that love and cherish you. Who are grateful for all the little things you do, who love the little things about you. Your adorable smile, how shy you can be at times but realising how big your heart truly is. It pained me, not being able to see your face light up today when everyone unwrapped their presents, missing how truly grateful you are for whatever you are given. It's almost been a year and not a day goes by where I don't miss you, where Cordelia doesn't cry, where I hate myself for driving you away. I miss you little one, I'm sorry.

Mina''

And with each letter, each confession, tears pour from your eyes, eventually turning into sobs, despite trying to contain them. You knew Wilhemina was never big on words but seeing her emotions so raw and honest touches you deeply. And suddenly you feel the urge to run to them, to hug them, to apologise and to love them again. You already loved them of course, you had never stopped but you needed to tell them, needed to forget about everything that happened and simply move on with them. And this time, nothing holds you back as you make your way past the hallway, not caring about the time as you find yourself outside of their bedroom. And again fate decides to help you out, as both of them had woken a while ago, Cordelia laying in silence as thoughts fill her mind, trying to figure out what to do and how to fix this, Wilhemina equally awake, finding it strange to have you so close, yet so far away. And they both heard shuffling, your door opening and slow but hushed steps walking towards their door before stopping.

At first Cordelia had thought, it may be one of the girls simply going to the bathroom but seeing a little shadow from underneath the door, she is quickly up on her feet, ready to investigate. Wilhemina equally behind her as she suddenly felt the urge to check on you. And so as the door opens, it all comes full circle, the light from the hallway exposing your crying form, a look filled with guilt, longing on your features. ,,Little one are you okay?'' Wilhemina questions quietly, standing behind the supreme but you don't say anything, simply lunging forward and taking the blonde into your arms, holding onto her for dear life as if she was going to slip away again at any moment. Wilhemina watches in silence as the two of you basically collapse into each other's arms, crying into each other and healing. But you feel the urge to pull away, standing in front of Wilhemina with tears in your eyes, your gaze meeting hers.

,,Mina I-'' you try but she is quick to shush you ,,Come here'' she ushers and you quickly comply, holding onto the redhead. And as the night continues, the three of you eventually find yourself truly where you belong, in their bed, you sitting in the middle, both of them next to you while you hold onto each other. Slowly admitting everything to each other, apologising and confessing all the mistakes and your love for each other.

,,We love you little one'' Wilhemina confesses as her lips slowly draw towards yours and capture you in a kiss. And as her lips softly land on your own, you taste tears, but not just your own, for one of the rare times, the redhead sharing her emotions, grateful to have you back with them. ,,We won't ever let you slip away again sweetie, I promise'' Cordelia reassures after the two of you pull away, needing oxygen, as she snuggles into your side. And eventually, everything goes back to normal, the three of you laying in each other's arms. And despite the future unknown a little, a lot of conversation still needing to be held, for now you all know that you have missed each other and you are sorry.

#sarah paulson #cordelia goode #wilhemina venable #ahs #american horror story #sarah paulson x reader #cordelia goode x reader #ahs coven #wilhemina venable x reader

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shankss-magnificent-ass · 1 year

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Imagine the beast pirates learning you are a criminal mastermind

Kaido: *going over a cargo manifest* we will sell these in Port Chugal, prepare them for shipment.

King: Port Chugal won't buy pirate goods anymore, the world government found out they've been trading with us, so they replaced the king there.

Kaido: That's the third distribution market I've had to change in the last month. First the Bourgeois Kingdom, then Ballywood, and now Port Chugal. How are they finding my warehouses?

Queen: we don't know at the moment, but we're working on it

You: *King's assistant* I would like to point out something that all three have in common.

King: Silence.

Kaido: let em talk, I want to hear what they have to say.

You: they were all common stops on Captain Rondow's transport route, who was captured almost three months ago by the world government.

Kaido: You think the poor bastard broke under torture?

You: It appears so, and from the other reports we're getting I'm guessing they have figured out how you conduct your exportation operation. *Hands King the reports*

King: *Skims them* we spent years building this system.

You: which means building another will be faster this time. I'm guessing how they're locating our goods is by the fact that while it's labeled under a company that doesn't have any paperwork officially filed in countries we claim it's from.

Kaido: what are we supposed to do, get a business permit?

You: yes, but actually no. Now any new businesses from any nations in your territory will come under scrutiny by the world government. So I think we should find any failing, but long-established companies, and bail them out in exchange for slipping our illicit cargo into their product distribution.

King: that... might actually work, but there's no way we can guarantee their loyalty.

You: that's why you give them a small percentage of the profits and gather blackmail material. Most rich people are sick fucks will have skeletons in their closet, you just have to look for it.

Kaido: I'll entrust the task to you, and in the meantime we'll have Yamato fill in for you with King.

King: what! No! Your son is... not great at paperwork.

Kaido: Sorry bud, but I'd like to see what they can do on their own, so I'm setting them loose.

Returns from setting up the new network seven months later

Kaido: I just got the finance report for the last quarter

You: *literally just got off the boat* Sir?

King: Your network is more efficient than what we had set up.

Kaido: you're getting promoted, so you can manage it from here.

You: But I was really looking forward to working with King again.

Kaido: then you'll work under him not me.

You: I'm keeping my desk in your office.

King: For someone who ruthlessly castrated a man to get him to do what they wanted, you are very clingy and sentimental.

You: I was well within my rights to revoke that man's dick privilege, you had no idea how man people he's assaulted. I did that town a fucking favor by pickling that man's junk

Kaido: you pickled it!

You: Yes I did, how else, so you think I got an entire town to look the other way about our ships coming into the harbor?

Kaido: I never would have thought of that... You know when I met you I never would have guessed you'd be an asset to my operations. You seemed too soft and naive, too kind.

You: *shrugs* Well thank you for thinking I'm kind, but I just so happen to hate you less than the world government, and you have more money than the revolutionary army. And Lin Lin and her family freaks me out.

King: don't forget Akagami and Whitebeard won't hire you since you've worked with us.

You: *clicks your tongue* and I regret it every day.

Coming Soon

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #beast pirates #animal kingdom pirates #kaido #kaidou #king the conflagration #king the conflagration x reader #king the wildfire x reader #from the depths of the dragons hoard #tma original #4/2/23 #no beta we die like men

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viablemess · 6 months

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I have a lot of feelings about the Durin Family, Fili in Particular

---Howdy folks it is that time of year again where i go absolutely feral for Fili Durin. He is underappreciated and tumblr has addressed that but i feel an URGE to add to the discourse so here I am. This post is not done, fyi. I will add more to it later.

It's 10pm/22:00. I just got home from class. I'm waiting for my ramen water to boil. There is a fireplace and some holiday lights. Let's have a (fireside)chat.

First of all, the constant tying of Fili and Kili together?? Like I get it. Merry and Pippin parallels. I love parallels (looking at you, George), but come on. Chill, just a tad. I know Tolkein didn't give you much to go by, but he didn't even write tauriel into the books or Bolg and yall ran with that anyways. Use your creative brains, pls, I'm actually begging you.

ANYWAYS. Have them develop separately even if only a little. Kili is the younger one, literally viewed younger bc he has the smallest itty bitty beard. He is not the heir, he is the spare, and could have some deep rooted personal insecurities about that as a result. He may feel that he deeply has to prove himself to Thorin bc he does not have a set role in the future like Fili does. Kili gets his romance with Tauriel, which--khgf;ushfw;e uneneccary, but I can appreciate the attempt to broaden the target market and appeal to a romance audience even if the previews did not hint at that happening at all so it would not have been a marketable trait per say but I digress. Again with the parallels of forbidden romance, poor Legolas still does not get any, we know, he was not even in the books really either, let's move on.

Kili is babied by the company, needs to prove himself, his mother made him promise to return to him so he is still deeply in the "coming of age" side of things (a lot of the company is, but that's a topic for another word vomit fireside chat). He begins to realize that he might like elves which goes against his family and he was already the spare, might as well go all in and fall in love with an elf. Fine. I can deal with that. But let's see more of Kili messing up, more so than just the trolls. Let's see him make silly goofy mistakes more. The company always tries to keep him out of the line of fire by making him an archer (heh) and keeping him off the front lines. They do everything to protect him, bc Dis is a terrifying woman, ansd if she made Kili promise to return to her, dammit, the company will return him to her if it is the last thing they do. Kili likely spends less time with Thorin and Dwalin than his brother, so here he is, questioning his own self worth and if he belongs in the party and his own abilities while coming of age and sticking out from his family even more, so why not rebel a little? why not be an archer which is not as glorified, why not consider shaving to meet cross cultural beauty standards, why not date the elf (dammit, I'm convincing myself for Tauriel's presence and I hate that). He's trying his best and messing up along the way, and is INNOCENT. Completely. He is aware of his ancestry and what happened, but he and Bilbo are the two being narrated to when telling of the Durin family history, and as a result, the differences in dwarven / hobbit culture could be explored further. Thorin has a little kiddo to watch out for, and maybe is softer around, because even Thorin knows Kili is young, maybe even too young to be here but if they didn't let him come he would have snuck after them, so we get to see a more forgiving, family-man Thorin who we do not see anywhere else (and yes we get that at the end of the movie but I'm getting to my critique of the (I almost called it a keldabe wrong fandom) forehead touch with a name I cannot recall later).

Onto his brother. Fili is the heir, okay. So, that means that he is likely raised very differently from Kili. Whereas Kili may have had some time to play and be a kid (as much as they could in the Blue Mountains as refugees, anyways), Fili likely was given no such privilege. He followed Thorin around like a lost puppy, watching his every move and trying to imitate it, because he knew he would have to do Thorin's job someday. Even if Thorin did get married / have a kid / etc there would likely still be a window where Fili was in charge before Thorin's kid came of age, and as the years went on, the chances of that happening diminished, and so Fili threw himself more and more into his crown-prince-studies. Maybe a little obsessively, just like his uncle, who had practically stepped into the role as father. Because Fili thought he had to be Thorin. Thorin, meanwhile, saw the King that Fili could be, and that King was so much better than him. Fili grew up humble as a result of them all being refugees, something Thorin did not have to learn until much later and even then he never fully got it. Fili was kind, because he saw the suffering of his people, and understood how large of a difference a small act could make. Fili also had the teachings of Thorin drilled into him, because Thorin's problem was that whenever he saw Fili, he also saw Frerin. Frerin was Thorin's younger brother, just as blond as Fili, and (I'm assuming) played a roll in Fili's name (both starting with F). Frerin died at the Battle of Azanulbizar, and Thorin remembers that battle, he remembers losing his little brother. He can understand the fear that Fili feels whenever the company encounters a fight because he has felt the same in the worst of ways. But, because Thorin understands, he pushes Fili to be better than him. Even if that pushing is too much, too hard, too fast, too young--Thorin knows that Fili can be better than him, and Thorin does not want Fili to suffer as he has suffered, so he does everything in his power to prepare Fili for what is to come, and because Thorin loves him, that is all he does. He pours that love out as motivation and pushes Fili to do more, do everything, and do it better than he did. Fili, being young, does not realize this. He just sees it as Thorin preparing him to be king, and quite brutally at that, but Thorin is the closest thing he has to a father, Fili is not going to question it, not for anything, except for his little brother. And that just hurts Thorin, because he knows that, had he had the chance, he would have died to save Frerin at Azanulbizar. He knows Fili would do the same for Kili, but they are both so, so young. Thorin fears he could lose them both in one go, if he is not careful. So he is harsh, he scares them, he is forceful, because they do not have time for care and coddling, that won't keep them safe.

Whereas the company sees Kili as carefree and fun, Fili is cold, like his uncle. He is stone, and observant, and polite. He has to be Thorin, AND everything that Thorin is not. It is an impossible task, but he has to try. That is what is expected of him, not just by his mother and uncle, but by the entire people that is behind him, waiting for him to ascend to be king. He does not get a choice. The only one who can pull him out of that rut is his brother, with whom he actually feels like he can be what he is -- barely older than a kid.

Im gonna let that sink in for a second. They're CHILDREN.

anyways.

So, Kili gets his romance plot. It's cute and it parallels. And I've established that Kili must prove himself, and Fili will bend over backwards to make Thorin happy, which likely also extends to Dis, his mother.

I imagine Dis gave Kili the river rock to come back home, and she told Fili "be safe, don't be stupid, etc etc" but HIGHLIGHTED "take care of your brother", and Thorin does the same in the movies.

So, when Kili galavants up the bridge to open the gate after the party does a little slip and slide down the river, Fili naturally goes with. He sees that Kili is about to get shot. And Fili, who knows above all else he has to be king and he has to take care of Kili, just does the normal heroric thing and jumps in front, and he gets shot.

He is chastized for it, for being stupid, but overall they both are thanked for getting them out of the mess, and there is no time to waste because the company has to leave, and Fili (like what Kili did albeit maybe with more conviction) will not let others help him, or show weakness. So Fili continues on, poisoned, and Kili has the guilt of knowing his brother took an arrow meant for him. Fili must suffer the consequences of being a hero, and Kili must suffer the consequences of being the youngest, and feeling guilty for not taking responsibility for his own actions.

This all boils over to a fight where Kili tells Fili that "I made the choice to go up there, I didn't ask you to intervene!" because dammit Kili wants to be treated like an adult and FIli just took that away from him, again.

Fili, naturally, retorts, "I just did what I had to, because you know what? mom didn't tell me to come home--all she told me, all everyone ever tells me--is to take care of you! So I don't matter, not to this family, not in the same way you do. You're a son. I'm a prince."

Which, ouch. Slap in the face to Kili, and maybe the company overhears. Kili feels slighted, but also maybe is starting to understand, he can be a kid, Fili cannot. And Fili, meanwhile, is about to break from the weight of expectations that feels heavier than the lonely mountain ever could.

So, Kili stays with Fili when they get to Bard's, because it is what Fili would have done for him. Thorin is pissed, but lets it go, because Kili isn't Fili, and ouch, again.

I imagine Bofur helps quite a bit, he has a kind soul and listens better than most, and while Fili is delirious with fever Bofur talks him through it. Kili gets to be more coherent with Tauriel, and we get to see if their relationship actually holds up outside of a "she saved my life I love her" style of interaction which bleh is cliche as all get out.

and PLEASE when the dwarves do get out of Bard's house, they get to actually help Bard deal with the dragon. I read a fic a long time ago (if I find it I'll link it and the author below) where Fili had to be Bard's arrow anchor instead of Bard's son and I just chef's kiss. The dwarves who are left get to help the humans, and they feel more sympathy for them. Maybe they witness more death, and so when the dwarves do turn their backs on the humans later, Fili, Kili, Bofur, Bifur & crew are like "wait wtf they have suffered enough" unlike their future indifference we see in the movie.

and THEN all the dwarves arrive at the mountain, and Fili and Kili actually get welcomed home like the family they ARE, but it's stunted, because something is wrong with Thorin. He is glad to see Kili and Fili, but barely spares them a glance. They've heard the rumors and stories, of gold sickness. They begin to wonder, and we get to see them talk (probably with Bilbo) about the concept in secret where everyone is looking for the arkenstone. We get to see Kili with his hero worship refuse to believe Thorin would fall under a gold thrall. We get to see Fili, who is afraid of becoming like Thorin, too scared to enter the treasury unless immensly pressured to do so, and even then someone is always with him, because he worries. He still holds the ruby Thorin threw at him, and he keeps it in his pocket. He holds it so tight the edges cut his palm, and the pain seems to distract him from the wealth that surrounds him. I always wondered if Thorin gave Fili that ruby because he was the heir, or the only dwarf with so much gold about their person, with his hair. It was what Thorin saw first, not because it was his nephew, but because he looked like the very thing that already clawed Thorin down into his own demise.

AND NOW the war starts. and this needs to be another post bc ffs I'm losing my shit this is much too long.

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gaslightgatekeepgirlbosscombat · 9 months

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Group A, Round 1, Poll 4:

Propaganda under the cut

Azula

Personal gain and because she was gaslit herself.

100% pure girlboss. So good at lying and manipulating that the magic human lie detector can’t figure her out. Gatekeeps her father’s “love” from her brother

Azula was considered a prodigy in firebending at a young age. And she manipulates and plots to get what she wants.

They (gas)lit stuff on fire, gatekeeped the avatar from the Fire Nation, and girlbossed all the way into insanity

Akane Kurashiki

Zero Escape spoilers! Akane Kurashiki is dead. Died in an incinerator as a child. But she's right here, isn't she? She's talking about mummies and the Titanic and I'm holding her in my arms. But also she's Zero, mastermind who trapped us here and threatened our lives. That guy literally just exploded. But Akane couldn't have done that, she's so sweet and she's so scared. Also she's dead? But wait, she's right here, and she has a fever again.

lied to a group of ppl including her childhood bestie so they'd enter a death game she planned, she's so funny. also later planned another death game to save the earth etc

GASLIGHT: - Lies to everyone and pretends to just be an innocent quirky girl when in reality, she is the mastermind behind the situation everyone has been put in. - Pretends to be sad and concerned when the bastard who almost killed her pretends to do a heroic sacrifice to get everyone's sympathy. - Pretends she's put bombs inside everyone's stomachs. Really, she only put bombs inside the people she wants revenge on. - Pretends that she and her brother aren't related. - Erases her fiancé's memories and makes him forget he proposed to her so she can go to the moon and stop the outbreak of an apocalyptic virus without him getting in the way. - Puts herself into a schrodinger's cat situation where she's both living and dead until you decide what door to walk through. - Manipulates her way into a Mars mission program. - Makes a guy think he is 45 years younger than he actually is. - Pretends she is going to stab two people to force them back in time. - Manipulates a child into participating in his father's research so he can act as a spare if necessary. GATEKEEP: - A psychic who gains near omniscience in some circumstances, but refuses to explain snything unless it suits her plans. - Says ""Only God decides who lives and dies!"" But she kills several people. Perhaps only God and Akane Kurahiki decide who lives and dies. Or maybe they're the same person? - Manipulates a woman into breaking up with a man so she can kidnap him and bring him to the moon. - Refuses to let her boyfriend meet her when it doesn't suit her plans. - Kidnaps two women and puts them into a coma for 45 years. GIRLBOSS: - Very willing to kill to achieve her goals or get revenge. - Queen of random trivia. Will info dump about her interests whenever it suits her (including when she is trapped in a freezer with two people). - If anyone touches a hair on her boyfriend's head she will not hesitate to cut them down with a chainsaw. - Stages not one but two mass kidnappings and killing games (that we know of). - Great at multitasking, she manged to save her own life and dispose of the people who almost killed her at the same time. - Uses her knowledge of the future to manipulate the stock market and become super rich. If that doesn't scream girlboss I don't know what does. - Starts her own organisation to fight cult leaders and save the world. - Has two nemeses, the CEO of a pharmaceutical company, whose life she completely destroys and a >100 year old cult leader. - Co-runs a moonbase where she has command of AIs and robots.

#group a #round 1 #atla #avatar the last Airbender #Azula #zero escape #999 #akane kurashiki #vlr #ztd

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venus-haze · 1 year

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Kick It Out (Queen Maeve x Reader)

Summary: Maeve doesn’t date, for her own good and that of anyone she might be interested in. Teaching you how to kickbox definitely isn’t dating, even if the two of you do flirt every time you’re alone.

Note: Female reader with some references to being plus size, but not enough for me to designate the fic as such. No other descriptors are used. This takes place slightly before Homelander outed Maeve, but she still does a lot of internal shittalking about him. Hopefully I did well with her characterization because I’m already planning a follow-up. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Some references to homophobia Maeve’s experienced. Homelander vaguely threatens the reader to Maeve. Semi-public fingering, Maeve's kinda rough. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

It was a coincidence, really, when Maeve walked by Vought’s employee gym during one of the yoga sessions that was part of HR’s company wellness initiative. She’d forgotten Vought even had that, not interacting much with the corporation's rank and file on a regular basis and using The Seven’s exclusive gym to train. The employee gym was spacious, clean, and at that moment filled with dozens of Vought employees in a rainbow of athleticwear. Maeve could remember the old Jane Fonda workout tapes her mom used to put on in the mornings, how pleased she was with little Maggie’s rapt attention at the videos. You always need to keep your body moving, Maggie. It’s so important.

Her eyes scanned the group lazily until they landed on you in the middle of a stretch that made Maeve feel like that little girl staring at Jane Fonda in spandex all over again. She licked her lips, giving you a quick once over before anyone could notice. You would become target number one the moment Homelander got a whiff she was remotely interested in you. Her fists clenched at the thought of how he–and her own complacency–ruined her relationship with Elena. She couldn’t do that to you, not that she even knew your name, and she wouldn’t learn it if she could help it. She wasn’t that selfish.

At least, that’s what she thought, until somehow she kept running into you. An interview here, a briefing there, she wasn’t even sure what you did at Vought exactly. It didn’t matter. You clearly hadn’t drunk the Kool-Aid, viewing your job as a way to pay the bills instead of the feverish devotion so many of its employees had. She started looking forward to seeing you, taking the opportunity to stand next to you when she could and exchange quips back and forth about how corny a promotion seemed or how weird the marketing team was.

Like clockwork, though, you’d be in the employee gym whenever the yoga classes were being held. She casually brought it up one day, asking if you were really that into yoga, or just taking advantage of the free classes.

You nodded. “Yoga’s nice, but I’d love to get into kickboxing or something. I’m kind of nervous to sign up for a class. I’ve never done anything like that before, and I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep up.”

“I can teach you,” Maeve said, the words coming out of her mouth before she could even think.

“Are you sure? That’d be great, but only if you have the time and everything.”

“Yeah, let me give you my number. It’ll be easier to plan that way.”

You handed your phone to her, and she quickly entered her personal number into your messages, texting a simple ‘Hey’ to herself. She hesitated a moment before giving you back your phone. Okay, this was for real. She was committing to it.

“I’ll text you later. I’m free most weeknights, so just let me know,” you said cheerfully.

A sour mix of excitement and regret clouded her mind until you left, and as she walked down the hall to the elevator, she thought she’d at least have a chance to at least convince herself that it wouldn’t be that bad. She was never that lucky.

“Uncharacteristically nice of you to offer to help out Y/N,” Homelander said, almost as if materializing out of nowhere.

Maeve balled her hands into fists at her side. Why did he always have to be lurking? Recently, he had been fucking off to god only knows where, sometimes for days at a time. Of course he had to be around when she finally made a move. “I’m just full of surprises.”

“Your heart’s beating like a racehorse, Maeve. You’re not that excited about just practicing some kickboxing moves, are you? I’d be a better partner than her, in that case. You and I are practically indestructible. Her on the other hand—it’s amazing how fragile humans are.”

Maeve remained silent, letting out a shaky breath as she refused to acknowledge his taunting.

“You think she knows her sports bra is a size too small? I mean, one downward dog and her tits are practically spilling out of—“

“Get a grip,” Maeve snapped.

“Hey, don’t be like that. It’s just locker room talk,” Homelander said, a menacing smile plastered across his face. “Speaking of surprises, I wonder what Y/N would think if she knew this was all a ploy for you to get into those tight yoga pants of hers. I guess I can’t blame you. Not exactly my type, but with the way you can see her panty line through them, she’s practically asking for it.”

“Asking for what?” she asked, standing taller as she looked him in the eye, daring him to make his threat.

“Hit a nerve there, huh, Maeve?”

“Mind your business, and I’ll mind mine.”

“Well, you sure know how to pick ‘em,” he said abruptly.

She knew him well enough that it meant someone was coming down the hall, and he didn’t want them hearing a word he said. Scoffing, she shook her head as she walked away, trying to keep a brave face as she made her way to the elevator.

Storming into her suite, she slammed the door behind her and threw the nearest breakable object at the wall before collapsing onto the couch, her head in her hands. Fuck. She’d been too obvious, too careless, and now you were going to be on the receiving end of it. Keeping her distance wouldn’t be fair to you, and it’d only put you in more danger when it came to Homelander. As much of a Girl Scout as Starlight could be sometimes, at least she was willing to risk it all for Hughie, even when he was lying through his teeth to her about Butcher and Compound V. At the very least, Maeve could do the same for you moving forward.

Still, she decided she was way too sober for her liking, and dug through her cabinets to find a half-drunk bottle of vodka, wanting to escape the gravity of the situation she found herself in for just a little while.

The next day, she woke up a few minutes past eleven, her head pounding as she checked her phone. A few missed calls and texts, including one from you: ‘Hey! Homelander said you were sick. Hope you feel better soon💐’

Between the thought of Homelander being near you and her raging hangover, Maeve leaned over the side of the bed, throwing up into the nearby trash can. She got another text from Ashley, asking if she’d still be able to do her designated crime fighting schedule that night since she was supposed to team up with A-Train. Staring at the text, she grinned, getting out of bed to choke down a few aspirin and make her way to crime analytics.

The department’s office was depressingly dark, and the girl who nervously pulled up the schedule for the next few weeks looked like she hadn’t slept in days. Opening the notes on her phone, she quickly typed what days and times Homelander would be away from the tower. It wasn’t perfect, but it’d do while she figured out how to take control of the situation.

Your kickboxing lessons with her began a little after seven on a Thursday evening. Maeve had asked you to keep everything under wraps, claiming she didn’t want everyone pestering her to train them. This was a one-off thing because you were friends. She was relieved at how your face lit up when she put it that way.

The whole arrangement made her realize how rusty she was at flirting with someone she was actually interested in, as opposed to the sleazy guys she’d bring up to the tower for one-night stands only to kick them out afterward. Training with you was great, you were eager to learn despite struggling to pick up some of the moves. She took the opportunity to stand close to you, putting her arms over yours and guiding your movements, her body framing yours. Sometimes her hands would linger over your skin, feeling how soft you were against her until she felt you shiver or heard your breath hitch. The physical, intimate closeness drove her crazy. In those moments, she wondered what your whole body felt like, your stomach and thighs surely plush beneath her fingertips.

Things came to a head during your fourth training session. Homelander hadn’t been at the tower for a day or so, and you were acting bolder. There was no way you didn’t catch her staring at the way you bounced around while Heart’s ‘Kick It Out’ blasted from the speakers you’d connected your phone to. She was sure you were doing it on purpose at that point.

“I think I’m almost as good as you,” you joked, beads of sweat rolling down your forehead.

She laughed. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got.”

“Bring it on!”

Wiping the sweat from your brow, you stood across from her on the training mat. Your stance wasn’t the best, but you were trying despite her dodging your blows with ease. Just because she liked you, it didn’t mean she was going to hand you a win. You were having fun, a smile on your face as she caught your lifted leg before you could really kick.

In any other scenario, she figured you could hold your own pretty well in a fight with a non-supe. You threw a punch which Maeve blocked without so much as blinking. One more time, you went for another kick, only for her to send you flat on your back with a thud.

She pinned you to the mat, the two of you silent except for your breathing. Maeve didn’t do anything but stare at your face, just mere inches from hers for a few moments. God, you were fucking pretty. Your eyes seemed to sparkle despite the harsh gym lighting, and your parted lips were almost calling to her.

“You win,” you said softly from beneath her.

“Do I get a prize?”

“Wanna get drinks after this? On me?”

She smiled, reluctantly getting up from on top of you. “Hope you have your credit card ready.”

You took her outstretched hand, almost surprised at how fluidly she pulled you up onto your feet, until you remembered she was the strongest woman in the world, after all. The fact that she was getting drinks with you was a plus.

“I know a few places in my neighborhood, if you don’t mind going out to Brooklyn,” you said. “They’re kind of dives, but they’re fun.”

“That honestly sounds perfect.”

“Okay. I’m gonna shower and change really quick.”

She nodded. “Take your time.”

As soon as you disappeared into the locker room, Maeve looked down at her costume, internally groaning. It was the furthest thing from inconspicuous. In all honesty, she missed having a secret identity, the small thing that separated her from the persona that Vought manufactured for her. Whether for sentimentality or foolish hope of a situation like this one, she’d kept some of her street clothes.

Glancing at the locker room again, she decided to rush up to her suite and throw on something that would afford the two of you some privacy. Tapping her foot impatiently, she waited for the elevator doors to open before slipping inside and pressing the button for her floor.

When she reached her suite, she frowned at the selection of clothing in her dresser. Touching one shirt, she felt a lump form in her throat. The somewhat coarse fabric sent memories rushing back, she’d worn it on one of her last dates with Elena, before she handed her whole life over to Vought and Homelander sunk his hooks into her. There was a slight stain on the sleeve, evidence of Elena’s wine glass that had tipped over when some asshole decided to make it clear that he didn’t approve of their date, so he had to make it the whole restaurant’s problem. When he started becoming aggressive, Maeve grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him over, knocking him into at least three other tables with the sheer force she used. That was the catalyst for her initially fake relationship with Homelander, as Vought’s marketing team decided it would improve her image after the incident.

She exhaled, shaking her head as she tried grounding herself. Things could be different with you. She’d take back control of her life—from Vought, from Homelander, from her own self-sabotage. Her outfit choice for the kind-of-but-not-really date was simple. She ran her fingers through her signature styled waves, messing her hair up a bit to make her less recognizable. Seeing herself in the mirror, she smiled. For the first time in months, she looked and felt like herself.

Her phone buzzed, and to her relief, it was a text from you.

‘Hey! Ready to go when you are🍻’

Biting her lip, she retyped her response to you three times before sending, ‘Great be down in a min😄’

She instantly regretted her choice of emoji, but it didn’t matter, something that simple wasn’t going to ruin her night. After all, she couldn’t remember the last time she was asked out by someone she actually liked. You hadn’t explicitly said it was a date, but the tension was there, and Maeve hoped to god she wasn’t reading too much into things.

You were waiting in the gym for her, now changed back into your work clothes of a blouse and skirt. In the meantime, you had pulled up the info for some of the bars that you and your friends frequented in your neighborhood. She looked over them quickly, settling on a 70s-themed one you recommended based on the decor and cheap burgers. Her mind raced while the two of you walked down the hall and to the elevator, deciding to leave through a service corridor rather than the building’s main floor.

As the elevator made its descent to the lower levels of the building, Maeve figured she at least owed it to you to let you know what you were getting yourself into. She’d already put you at risk with the amount of time she was spending with you. You looked at her in confusion when she pressed the emergency stop.

“You know this isn’t just drinks, right?”

You smiled a bit, “What is it then?”

“Y/N, I’m serious,” she said. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Maeve, can you just be real with me instead of the cryptic shit?”

“Fuck," she groaned. "Okay, look. I’m into you, but Homelander’s a jealous son of a bitch who won’t let me have a life, so the fact that we’ve been spending time together and going out for drinks means you’re in serious danger.”

You were quiet for a few moments. She took your silence as an understandable rejection, moving to press the emergency stop button to bring you back up until you spoke.

“I’ll take the risk.”

“Are you sure? Y/N, Homelander won’t hold back. I’ll do what I can to protect you, but–”

You looked at her, really looked at her, as she laid out the risks for you clear as day. It didn’t matter. You’d come to the conclusion pretty quickly that she was worth it. She was Queen fucking Maeve for Christ’s sake. Most importantly, though, you were into her too, and you’d never forgive yourself for passing up the opportunity to go out with her and see where things led.

As she was in the middle of listing ways Homelander could kill you, you interrupted her with a quick peck on the lips, enough to startle her out of her rant for a moment. That seemed to get the message through, because she kissed you, backing you into the elevator wall across from the closed doors.

You parted your lips for her, happy to let her take the lead as she cupped your cheek in her hand, her fingers pulling your face closer to her. Even though she’d just pinned you to the floor less than an hour earlier, you were taken aback by how strong she was. She bit gently on your bottom lip, her teeth tugging at it before kissing you again.

Groping one of your breasts through your blouse, she moved her hand further down your body until she reached your thighs, her fingers gently tracing undistinguishable patterns into your skin. You could feel her start to play with the hem of your skirt before sliding her hand beneath it.

You whispered a soft “yes” against her lips when her fingers brushed against the damp spot on your panties. Pressing her fingers against your core, she watched your face contort in pleasure as you whimpered for more.

It felt like eternity before she finally pushed her hand past the cotton material and began teasing your clit, ignoring your aching pussy. She pressed hot, open kisses against your skin before settling on the crook of your neck, biting into the tender skin so hard you almost thought it would break.

“Maeve, fuck,” you moaned.

“Too hard?”

You bit your lip, shaking your head. “Harder.”

Maeve grinned, slipping her index and middle fingers into your pussy, and you were almost embarrassed at how wet you were. She didn’t care, curling her fingers inside you, pumping them in and out until your breath caught in your throat. You gasped as you gripped her shoulders, trying to keep your legs from giving out from under you. Using her other hand, she held you up by your thigh, her fingers squeezing your soft flesh.

You leaned your head back against the wall, eyes fluttering shut as she began rubbing her thumb against your clit, bringing her attention back to it as your pussy clenched around her fingers. She brought her lips to your ear, her teeth grazing your earlobe before she whispered, “You gonna cum for me, baby?”

“I’m close,” you barely managed to say.

“Don’t hold back. I wanna feel you,” she said, her voice raspy as she squeezed your thigh for emphasis.

“Fuck–fuck, I’m–”

You came on her hand, fully relying on her strength to keep you up as she kept fingering you through your orgasm. Pressing her lips to yours, you were hardly able to kiss her back as you moaned into her mouth, your fingers clawing at the wall behind you as you tried getting a grip on something.

Finally, she pulled her hand from your pussy, and the one that had been holding you by your thigh wrapped around your waist to support you. She brought her hand to her mouth, licking your juices off of them so casually you wouldn’t have thought anything of it. You kissed her again, feeling lightheaded at the taste of yourself on her lips. Still, you figured someone must have noticed by then that the elevator wasn’t working. You didn’t even want to think about anyone finding you and Maeve like that, especially if Homelander ended up hearing about it through the grapevine.

“My roommate’s working the night shift,” you whispered, your voice noticeably hoarser than before. “I’ve got beer at my place.”

“Fuck the bar,” Maeve said, kissing you again.

You let out a yelp that dissolved into a fit of giggles as she literally swept you off your feet. She smiled, pressing the emergency stop button, sending the two of you back down to the service corridor you’d be slipping out into the night from.

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