#(but seriously man - 'too many trees' was an A+ line)

[therhythmafterthesummer]

In the Labyrinth (M) ~Changbin

Pairing: Minotaur!Changbin x AFAB.Reader Themes: Mythical AU | Angst | Smut | Fluff Word Count: ~14k | AO3 Synopsis: The Labyrinth was an enigma for most people. Its existence was known, but what exactly happened within it was a complete mystery. When you entered the Labyrinth, you weren’t really sure what you’d have to come face to face with… Not even in a million years would you have guessed just exactly what you’d find in here. Warnings: descriptors of the reader such as: having long hair · mentions of murder · mentions of assault · depictions of anxiety · violence (in many different forms) · Changbin is 300cm tall (feels like that warrants a warning) · graphic depictions of outercourse (smut warnings under the cut). - feel free to let me know if i missed any.

Author’s Note: shout out to the anon that sent this ask back in august and ingrained the mental image of minotaur!changbin in my brain. more notes at the end.

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Smut Warnings: size kink · literal monster cock (he’s a giant… and a half-bull, half-man one at that…) · nipple play · mutual masturbation · non-penetrative sex.

Disclaimer: the story presented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

The sound of your footsteps bounced off of the walls. The corridors were more than spacious, well over twenty metres wide, with the ceiling probably twice as high, but even if it wasn’t crowded in here, it still made you a bit claustrophobic.

You supposed that the few holes in the ceiling did help ease that feeling a little bit. Emphasis on a little bit.

Even if you weren’t particularly thrilled about being down here, you still walked, because there was simply nothing else to do.

You could’ve sat down and awaited your death exactly where you had landed when they threw you in here, but you were never one to remain still for too long. 

So, after having a good crying session, and after hours had passed since you’d been given your death sentence, you had finally stood up and started to walk.

You knew what this place was, although you’d never really seen it. You hadn’t even known it was here in this exact area. 

The Labyrinth.

It was said that the place was humongous, practically never-ending, built by a king in ancient times as an offering to the Gods. Presumably, it’d ended up buried in the earth as time passed, and it stretched over kilometres and kilometres of land, but no one had really seen it and lived to tell the tale. At least, no one you knew of.

Law enforcement clearly knew the place, but you weren’t really sure if you could call them people. After all, they had never taken you seriously when you’d sought out their help. In a way, you felt like it was their fault you’d ended up here in the first place…

Although you’d heard of this place, you never really imagined it’d look like this inside. The brick walls were looking a bit worn down, but still structurally sound. They were lined with torches lit with eternal fire, just like the tales said. The floor would alternate between dirt, gravel, actual flooring, and mud. 

As you walked, you saw some ponds, some that even had fish inside. You figured that could be a potential way out, but you weren’t sure how deep you’d have to swim or if that’d be viable at all, so you scrapped the thought altogether. 

Sometimes, you’d see trees. Especially in those areas where there were holes on the ceiling. 

Some of those holes were partially blocked by metal rods, like law enforcement realised they were there and did the minimum required to keep a person or an animal from falling inside. Others were fully open, they varied in sizes, but they were honestly too high up for a person to reach them.

The trees, the mismatched flooring, and the occasional patch of grass weren’t that odd, though. They fit in well, and their presence made sense. What did feel out of place were the drawings on the walls. 

They weren’t on every wall, but there were so many of them it was hard not to notice they were there. Some looked like they’d been there for a long time, the colours were a bit washed out and some of the pigment had probably been absorbed by the brick overtime. Others looked like they could’ve been made a few weeks ago.

Birds, trees, deer, the sun, the moon… They were mostly nature themed, and, in any other context, you might’ve been inspired by the artistry. Even if they intrigued you, it was hard to appreciate them when you felt so hopeless, when you felt so… empty.

As soon as you had stopped crying earlier, you had accepted your fate–how long had it been since then? How long have you been walking for? Hours? How many? It was hard to tell down here… 

You realised just how much time had passed once you noticed another hole in the ceiling. You might’ve missed a few before, since it was clearly now well into the night and there was no light to highlight their presence. 

The faint stars you could see out of that hole made a knot form in your throat and tears well in your eyes. 

This was unfair.

You shouldn’t be the one in here. 

If anything, it should’ve been him.

If anyone had paid attention to you, it would’ve been him.

But instead, here you were.

You found a patch of grass under that hole you saw, so you just laid down and curled in on yourself and called it a night.

As the tears started to fall again, you reminded yourself that you had accepted your fate.

There was no going back now.

It was hard to tell how long you’d been inside the Labyrinth for. 

The first couple of days, you kept count diligently, but at some point you realised it was absolutely pointless. Why would you even want to know that information, if you weren’t going to be able to leave?

You were on your own here. 

You’d seen items that clearly belonged to someone at some point scattered around the many corridors of the Labyrinth, but you hadn’t seen a single soul. Only the fish you’d caught from the occasional pond you found that helped keep your stomach full, or the odd magpie that would come from one of the ceiling’s holes and jump around for a bit before taking off and leaving you alone once again.

You were on your own here… That was, as long as the stories weren’t true.

At first, you thought that the death sentence meant you’d be locked here to starve to death, but that logic started to crumble when you saw just how many sources of sustenance were available. Fresh water, fruit, fish, birds–if one was skilled enough to be able to hunt one of those, or at least have the will to…

You wondered if law enforcement knew this place was like this… Whether they knew or not, you figured it probably didn’t matter. The longer you spent here, the more it made sense to you that the stories were true.

It was said that a beast lived inside the Labyrinth. 

A beast that would make the strongest, bravest man cower in fear.

Some people said it had multiple sets of arms, or that it was as big as the royal library building, bigger than any temple anyone had seen. Others said it was such a deformed being that just the sight of it would kill you, and if that didn’t, it would make sure to do so by eating its victims piece by piece.

You knew these were nothing but stories to garner attention, for people to cause unnecessary chaos just because they could. If these people had actually seen this alleged beast, you supposed they wouldn’t even be alive to share their experience with the world.

You had never believed such a thing existed, but as nights and days went by, there was a small–and very scared–part of you that believed it might be true. Maybe this beast was very real, and was roaming the corridors of the Labyrinth.

Even if you’d been lucky to have found a few ponds that were large enough for you to bathe in, you still had pretty much only what you’d been wearing since you were thrown in here. You had used those ponds to wash your peplos a few times, but, unfortunately, it wasn’t even in good shape to begin with, and rinsing it in water seemed to hardly help its condition.

Your feet ached, your sandals were certainly not meant to be used to walk these distances, and the feeling of your dirty garments, combined with the lack of human contact, were steadily driving you crazy with every day that passed. Maybe this was the punishment. To be driven to insanity by what would usually be a minor inconvenience, by the amount of nothing that was happening around you.

The fact that you kept seeing his face in your dreams didn’t help it one bit.

Sometimes, you’d see it even when you were awake. You just needed to close your eyes, and you immediately got flashes of red and the feeling of pure hatred and anger… 

You always felt like washing your hands after, like jumping into any pond or puddle you could find. And whenever you could, you did.

Unfortunately, no amount of hand-washing and bathing would make the feeling go away.

You figured you’d have to learn to live with it.

As you furiously scrubbed your palms for the millionth time that day, you started to hear something.

Your movements stopped, but your hands remained submerged in the pond. It was usually quiet inside the Labyrinth, save for the few birds that’d sometimes fly and sing above you, or the occasional splashing fish inside the numerous bodies of water. 

But, right now, you could definitely hear something… Not only that, but you could feel something.

You could barely notice while you still had your hands under the water, but the rippling on the surface of it couldn’t have been made by you. Not when the little pebbles on the ground were shaking, too.

Thump…

Thump…

Thump…

Thump…

The sound seemed to be coming from the corridor on your right. It was growing closer, but your body wouldn’t move. You couldn’t move. You were just kneeling there, looking at the flickering torches lining the walls, with your hands still inside the pond, completely paralysed.

It wasn’t until you saw the shadow of something popping from around the corner that you actually came to your senses.

You had to run.

And you had to run now.

You stood up from the ground faster than you could even blink. Taking the lower part of your peplos with tight, wet fists, you just started to run as fast as you could. 

You could practically feel your heart in your throat as anxiety started to kick in. You had convinced yourself that this beast didn’t exist, you had thought that since you hadn’t seen it in your time here, it must’ve not existed at all.

But the deep bellow that resonated within the corridor was proof enough that you had been severely mistaken.

It was so loud that the sound seemed to penetrate into your skin and rattle your bones from deep within. A ringing broke free in your ears, accompanying your agitated heartbeat.

Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… 

The whole ground shook with each heavy step the beast took, so much so, you tripped and fell into a path of rough gravel, ripping your clothing and scraping your knees in the process.

You couldn’t stop, though. There was no pain, no moment to think twice, you just stood up and kept running. You ran and ran and ran, turning the many corners of the Labyrinth as you went… 

There was a little voice in the back of your mind telling you it was useless, but you didn’t want to hear it. You refused to hear it.

At least, until you turned and found yourself in a dead end. 

Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… 

Whatever it was, it drew closer and closer, shaking the ceiling and the walls as it tried to catch up with you.

Maybe you could still escape it somehow. Maybe, you’d be able to run past it and lose it in the many corridors of the Labyrinth.

When you turned around, you realised just how foolish that thought had been.

The air escaped your lungs when your back hit the wall. Your feet weren’t touching the ground, and you could feel pressure on your sides from where you were being held against the wall.

Your vision was blurry from the lack of oxygen, you could barely make out the shape in front of you. Horns, fur, and… and a face.

You’d accepted your fate…

Or so you had thought.

“Please…” Your voice was barely above a whisper, not only due to how breathless you were after running for so long and after being pushed so forcibly against the wall, but also because the knot in your throat was just too big. “Don’t–Don’t hurt me”.

The first tear fell down your cheek, and many more followed soon after. You couldn’t see properly. Whatever was in front of you, was big enough to shield all light from hitting whichever parts you could’ve potentially seen.

The creature huffed, and you closed your eyes tightly as its face moved closer to yours.

Its breath was warm against your face. You almost flinched, expecting the smell of rotten flesh to envelop you, but, instead, all you could smell was laurel.

You could feel yourself tremble in its hold as sobs kept escaping your throat. The creature sniffed you, first your face, then your neck. It got so close in its exploration that you could feel the tip of a textured, moist nose against your skin. You braced yourself for what was to come. You were sure it was getting ready to eat you whole, hopefully in one single chomp, so you wouldn’t have to suffer too much…

The thing pulled away from your neck, and just when you thought it was going to go for it, you were moving. 

It was so unexpected you barely registered it.

One second you were pressed against the bricks, and the next your stomach was pressing against firm muscle, and your arms were dangling over the creature’s back. Almost like it… like it had thrown you over its shoulder. And, after a few seconds of shock, you realised it had.

The beast had a strong hold on your back as it started to walk, presumably taking you somewhere.

You tried to blink the remaining tears away, at least enough so you could properly see something, anything.

You caught sight of the ground. You were definitely moving, and, for a moment, you thought you were imagining things. 

You could see smooth skin, you could feel it against your arms and hands whenever they hit it as they moved with each of the creature’s steps. Its back was very human-like… However, that smooth skin transitioned into dark fur towards the lower part of its body.

The tail of the creature swishing from side to side was the last thing you saw before you lost grasp of your surroundings.

Warmth.

You felt warm, but it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. It was more like… a cosy feeling.

There was soft fabric under your hands, you could feel it dragging against your skin as your consciousness woke up.

Laurel… The smell of it filled your senses with that first intake of breath. 

Laurel… like the beast’s breath.

Your eyes snapped open. They immediately landed on the patch of night sky that could be seen from the hole in the ceiling, right on top of you. You blinked slowly, taking in the sight of the twinkling stars above you. 

Faint chewing sounds brought you back into the room, they made you remember what had happened before you lost consciousness. With quick movements, you sat up, and your breath hitched in your throat when your eyes locked onto the beast sitting a few metres in front of you.

Its eyes bore into yours as it chewed leisurely, on what you assumed to be a deer leg based on the shape of it. It didn’t make any movements, nor did it make any sounds–other than the occasional grunt when the meat was too stuck to the bone.

You were, quite honestly, speechless.

You had heard of the beast, but none of the descriptions truly matched what you were seeing right now.

A big, big creature. Inhumanly tall. Its torso was that of a man. Well defined, smooth, tanned skin, strong–very strong…–pecs, nipples adorned with silver jewellery, even stronger looking arms, and, although bigger than you had ever seen them, very human-looking hands. 

That torso transitioned into bovine-like lower limbs–covered in thick, dark fur, strong thighs and calves, ending in hooves. But, most impactful, was its head. Human-looking as well, save for the pair of horns that protruded from its skull and a cattle-like nose. The horns were decorated with thick silver rings that glistened with the very few torches lit around the room.

Its face, though… Chubby cheeks, pouty lips, and a strong, but bull-looking nose, pierced with a thick silver hoop. Objectively, the face of a handsome man, all things considered…

You had truly never, ever seen anything like it.

The way it was looking at you felt purposeful, like it wasn’t doing it just for the sake of it, but more like it was aware of your presence in a conscious, coherent way. It wasn’t just the way an animal would look at another animal, more like a human would look at another human.

You swallowed, suddenly hyper aware of your body. Everything hurt. Your feet, your knees, your arms… you were sore all over. When you finally broke eye contact with the creature–man…?–in front of you, and looked at yourself instead, you were perplexed at the sight of your bandaged knees.

Your eyes snapped back up to meet the beast’s, who was eating the last few pieces of meat off the bone in his hand, but still looking at you. 

“Did you…” Your voice broke due to your sore throat. You cleared it before you tried to speak again. “Did you do this?”

You gestured to the bandages, and it nodded to your question.

The beast understood you. It understood you and was able to answer the question.

“…Why?”

It seemed to be thoughtful for a moment, suckling on the bone to leave it completely clean before it threw it on a pile of bones in a corner of the room. Ultimately it simply shrugged, rendering you speechless once again.

The beast stood up from the ground, and walked towards another corner of the room, where a pond was. It knelt on the edge of it, and dipped its hands into the water. After scooping some water into its palms, it brought them close to his face and drank from them. 

Was it… washing its hands? And its mouth?

You realised it was, in fact, washing its mouth when it–he…?–finally stood up and walked over to some trees, where he plucked some leaves to eat them–or, more accurately, to chew on them.

“What… What are you?” You couldn’t help the question from leaving your mouth. What you were seeing right now was so absurd you just needed to ask.

He shrugged once again, chewing leisurely as it finally started walking closer to you. 

You honestly didn’t even try to move away, you were too in awe of his entire existence for your body to properly send you into fight or flight response. 

He was so… big. Even when he finally crouched in front of the pile of fabric you’d been laying on, he just looked huge.

“Changbin”, he said all of a sudden.

Your jaw went slack for a moment. He could speak.

“Ch–Changbin?”

He nodded. “That’s what… my father calls me”.

Changbin spoke slowly, like he wasn’t used to speaking at all. You supposed it made sense, considering the stories surrounding the beast inside the Labyrinth.

But… father, he said? “You… you have a father?”

He nodded again, but didn’t say anything else. Changbin just looked at you, in complete silence.

You’d admit it was a bit… awkward.

“Do you… Is this what you do with the people that are thrown into the Labyrinth?”

Changbin shook his head, which further puzzled you.

“I usually kill them. Sometimes I eat them if there’s nothing else to eat… Other times, just use them as food for the plants and birds that live here”, he said simply, like it was nothing. You supposed to him it was nothing.

“Why haven’t you killed me?” You had to ask, because you just couldn’t comprehend how you could still be alive.

His eyes jumped from one of yours to the other repeatedly for a bit. Until he eventually shrugged. “Don’t want to”.

You didn’t really feel like asking ‘Why?’ again, so you just cleared your throat, and decided to introduce yourself instead.

Changbin remained quiet for a few moments, until he repeated your name a few times out loud, like he was trying to get used to the sound. 

After about ten minutes of prying, Changbin explained to you that this was his den. It was at the very centre of the Labyrinth. He knew this whole place like the back of his hand, every twist and turn, every pond and every tree, he knew where absolutely everything was. Apparently, he’d lived here a long, long time.

You wanted to inquire more, but before you could, his ears perked up, and he looked towards the one and only exit of this area.

“Someone’s entered the Labyrinth”, he mumbled, almost to himself. He stood up from the floor, and wiped his hands on his fur before he started walking. When he reached the entrance, he turned back to look at you. “Stay here. Will be back in a couple of days”.

You didn’t really think you had any other choice.

Coexisting with Changbin was… weird.

It wasn’t uncomfortable by any means, but it was certainly weird. 

He clearly didn’t understand human behaviour much. As in, he’d do things people typically didn’t do.

He’d stare at you a lot–very intensely, if you might add–he spoke in short sentences, or was too forward with what he said. For the most part, though, you didn’t mind. Considering the type of men you were used to, Changbin was far from bad.

Was he a huge half-man, half-bull creature that ate humans sometimes?

Yes.

But even then, he was heaps better than other men you’d met.

He had offered his nest for you to sleep on. He’d shared with you any fish he caught, and even brought you fruit sometimes. For the most part, you didn’t leave his den, and he simply let you stay.

Being honest, part of the reason why you didn’t leave was because you weren’t sure if you were allowed to. After all, he’d brought you in here himself. 

Whenever someone entered the Labyrinth, he’d always ask you to stay while he left to look for them. Upon his return, he’d also share whichever goods he’d retrieved.

“You want this?” Changbin offered you a lump of fabric. It almost looked like a napkin in his hands, but when you took it and had a good look at it, you realised it was a chiton. And a fairly new one at that.

Your peplos was way too worn by now. You weren’t really sure how long you’d been inside the Labyrinth at this point, but you also figured it really didn’t matter. You’d washed your clothes plenty of times during your time here, but the rips and tears were just too many already, so you accepted the fresh garment.

“Thank you”, you looked up at him, trying not to focus too much on the swell of his chest, or the trail of fur that started from his navel and continued downwards, turning into his bovine legs.

Changbin was, truly, a sight to behold. Roughly three metres of hunk… The longer you spent around him, the longer you just… wanted to look at him. 

You supposed you weren’t any different than him in that regard. At least, he didn’t seem bothered by it when you stared at him.

Changbin nodded, and made his way to his makeshift, newer nest. You felt a bit bad that you’d taken his much bigger sleeping space, but when you tried to get him to use it again, he simply told you ‘It’s your nest now’, so you just… kept using it to lay and sleep on.

“Washed it on my way here”, Changbin said once he was sitting on his nest, looking at you. Only then did you realise he’d not only brought the chiton with him, but also a bowl full of what looked like wildberries, and a guest.

The guest sat on the very top of his head, it was a bird. A fairly small one, but one that was clearly injured, if the way it weakly fluttered its wings was anything to go by.

You nodded, and repeated a soft ‘Thank you’. You honestly tried not to think too much about the person this piece of clothing belonged to just a few days ago. There was no point in that… It was yours now. 

When you brought your hand to the fabric belt around your waist, you untied the knot that kept your peplos in place. The garment loosened, but before you could remove it, you looked back at Changbin.

He was just… staring at you. Like he always did.

You swallowed, trying to ignore the heat you felt spreading on your cheeks. “Could you, uhm…”

His ears perked up, listening intently to what you had to say. 

“Could you maybe look away?” 

Changbin blinked slowly, and his tail started swishing calmly behind him. “Why?”

“Because, y’know… I’m going to undress”, you replied simply, bringing the chiton closer to your chest. The heat on your face seemed to intensify.

“And?” 

You were slightly taken aback by that. But as you looked at him, you couldn’t see anything other than genuine curiosity in his eyes. “I’ll undress… That means I’ll be naked in front of you”.

“Okay”.

Now you started blinking slowly. Okay he said. Just… Okay. How… odd. “Changbin, I don’t want you to, uh… see”.

His eyebrows furrowed at that. “Why?”

“Because it’s not appropriate”.

“How come?” He placed the bowl on the ground and leaned back on his hands, spreading his legs in front of him. “I’m naked right now”.

Ah… You supposed he was naked.

You tried really hard not to move your eyes away from his face, especially considering the position he was in… You didn’t want your eyes to just wander to improper territories. After all, there seemed to be a lot to look at…

As you pushed aside the chaotic thoughts inside your head, his comment made you realise that maybe it wasn’t inappropriate to be naked. At least not here, not with Changbin.

You weren’t on the surface anymore. You weren’t bound to human customs anymore, not since the moment you’d been sentenced, and the more you thought of that, the more you started to understand. 

This was your safe place now. There was no judgement here, or, at least, you hadn’t felt any at all.

So you swallowed, suddenly feeling a bit nervous. With your eyes fixed on Changbin’s, you tried your best to ignore the warmth that took over your face as you undid your peplos. 

The garment fell to the floor, and only then did his eyes wander. He looked at you, with his head tilted to the side. You could’ve sworn you saw his eyes twinkle under the light of the few flickering torches on the wall. ‘Don’t like to keep too many in here… Too bright’, Changbin had told you a few days ago, when you’d asked why there weren’t as many torches in his den as in the corridor walls, and his answer had just made sense to you.

You could almost feel his eyes tracing every curve of your body, and you tried to not focus on how that made you feel. Instead, you just threw the chiton on and quickly fastened it with the belt around your waist.

Changbin’s eyes were back on yours as you finished fixing your clothes, before you started to plait your hair.

“Are you cold?” He asked all of a sudden, just as you finished tying your hair.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Not… not particularly?” 

“Why’d you wear that, then?”

“Wear what? This?” You gestured to the garment you’d just put on, and Changbin simply nodded to your question. You blinked blankly at him for a few moments before you answered him. “I don’t… I shouldn’t be showing my body like that, y’know? It’s inappropriate. At least, on the surface it is. So we just… wear clothes”.

“That’s why humans wear clothes?” He sounded genuinely incredulous, and based on the way his eyes widened, you figured he was. “Thought y’all were just cold all the time”.

You couldn’t help but snort at that. You laughed. You laughed like you hadn’t laughed in weeks, almost madly even. 

This was all just so, so absurd. You’d been sentenced to death, and somehow, you’d ended up here, with a creature like Changbin. A sentient creature that thought humans wore clothes just because ‘they were cold all the time’.

“Why shouldn’t you show your body?” Changbin looked beyond confused, and somehow it made you laugh harder. “It’s… well, there. It’s you. Why hide it?”

Your laugh died down, and you wiped the few stray tears that had fallen from your eyes. There was a small smile tugging at his lips, he didn’t seem fazed by your fit of laughter other than looking mildly confused now, so you just composed yourself and answered him as honestly as you could. “It’s… a private thing…”

“Private?” Changbin asked, tilting his head cutely to the side. “So no one has seen you naked?”

You went quiet at that, and started fidgeting with the end of your belt. “Some people have… Y’know, my mum… My–my husband…”

The title left a bitter taste on your tongue, but you tried to ignore it. You didn’t like thinking about him. Whenever you did, you always tried to squash the mental image to the deepest recesses of your mind. It was just… a bit too much still.

“You’re married?” Changbin asked, curiously, leaning forward and resting his arms on his knees.

“Not anymore”, you looked away from him, trying to ignore his peering eyes. You really didn’t feel like elaborating further, so you tried to divert the conversation by talking about literally anything else. The weather, the flowers that had started to bloom in his garden, the bird on top of his head…

Changbin didn’t really pry further, he just followed your chaotic rambling as best as he could, until he eventually started crushing the berries in his bowl and telling you about the bird.

Apparently, he’d found it yesterday when he was on his way back here, and had been trying to nurse it back into health since. While he told you the story, he kept crushing the wildberries in his bowl, and he’d occasionally bring his free hand up to the little critter. It simply pecked his fingertip a few times before it resumed grooming his hair. 

After a while, he stood up from his makeshift nest. With his bowl of crushed berries in hand, and the injured bird nestled on the crown of his head among his messy hair, Changbin made his way to a nearby wall. You just watched him curiously from where you were laying on his original nest.

Changbin dipped two of his fingers in the mixture of crushed berries, and then he just… drew a line on the wall.

Then another…

And another… 

He was silent for the most part, but low noises would occasionally resonate from his chest when the little bird on his head chirped. It was almost like they were having a conversation.

And you figured they were. Mostly because every couple of lines he made, he’d huff, and the bird would chirp in response. Changbin simply nodded–carefully, as to not let the bird fall with the movement–and kept on drawing.

You weren’t sure how long you spent there, just looking at him doing his thing, but it was genuinely fascinating. The way his tail would sway every once in a while, the way the muscles on his back flexed and relaxed as he moved all sorts of ways as he painted on the walls…

Eventually, his lines took the very distinct shape of a bird, one that mirrored the one on his head almost perfectly.

“Changbin?” You asked after a while. He hummed to let you know he was listening, so you continued. “Did you make all the other drawings throughout the Labyrinth?”

It seemed like a silly question to ask, because, who else would’ve done it, if not the beast doing one just now in front of you?

Changbin added the finishing touches to his drawing, then he turned to look at you. He offered the remnants of crushed berries in his bowl to the bird, just as he brought the two fingers he’d been using to his mouth so he could lick them clean.

You tried not to focus too much on the action by fixing your eyes on his. 

He pulled his digits out of his mouth with a slight sucking sound, and nodded. “I did”.

“Mmm… They’re pretty”, you said simply.

Because, to you, they were.

You found them odd when you first saw them, since they didn’t seem to fit the aura surrounding this place, but they were certainly pretty. And knowing they’d been made by him, just seemed to make them even prettier.

Changbin finally put the bowl down on one of the many tall–but flat–rocks scattered throughout the room, and, for a moment, you could’ve sworn his cheeks had reddened. “Thanks…”

You just offered him a smile, even if he wasn’t looking at you. 

A cold wind filtered through the hole in the ceiling, it had your teeth chattering and your whole body shivering. You tried to cover yourself further, but the way Changbin had built his nest made it so you really couldn’t pull fabric from it without messing it up, and there was no spare cloth close by that you could use as a blanket.

It made sense, you supposed. He didn’t seem like he needed anything to keep himself warm, and you also hadn’t needed it before during your stay here, so you hadn’t even tried to ask for one.

You heard faint shuffling, followed by quiet thump, thump, thumps, until you felt warmth close to you.

“Tiny human”, Changbin mumbled, pulling your attention fully towards him.

You hummed to let him know you were listening, but you didn’t open your eyes, nor did you feel like wasting energy saying actual words. You needed to use every bit of it you could to try to keep yourself warm.

“You’re whimpering. Why?”

Had you been whimpering?

You hadn’t even realised you were. Maybe you’d fallen asleep without noticing… 

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your trembling form, but it only brought a rush of cold air inside your body. “M’cold…”

There was silence for a moment. With half lidded eyes, you could’ve sworn you were seeing your breath coming out of your mouth in little white clouds. It didn’t make you feel any better. If anything, it agitated you a bit more, but you couldn’t even express it fully.

Changbin was quiet for a long while, but you could still feel him close. You appreciated it. It felt like moral support, at least. 

Eventually, you heard–and felt–him shuffle closer to the nest. “Can I… Can I keep you warm?”

You immediately nodded. You didn’t care what he did, or how he did it. You just needed to be warm, and if he could give you that you’d honestly take it.

There was more shuffling, and then there was a minute dip in the nest. You yelped when you felt Changbin’s arm wrap around your waist and pull you into him from behind.

His hold was strong, firm, but also… gentle. He kept you close, with his chin resting on the top of your head and a hand pressed firmly against your stomach. He was so close, and so, so warm, you immediately felt yourself relaxing, moulding into his body, almost like… like you’d always been meant to.

Slowly, his warmth seeped into you, until you were no longer shivering. Tentatively, you placed a hand on top of the one he kept on your stomach. You could’ve sworn you felt him jump a bit behind you, but as soon as you started tracing his knuckles with your fingertips, he seemed to relax once again.

You weren’t really sure what compelled you to do it, you had just… felt like doing it. You spent a while just like that, feeling each knuckle of his fingers, feeling the prominent veins on the back of his hand. They were so big… especially compared to your own.

You’d never felt like a particularly small person, but next to him, you certainly looked tiny, you felt tiny. But only physically. Being honest, you’d never felt as equal to someone as you felt with Changbin.

“I think you’re pretty, too”, he mumbled all of a sudden, and for a moment, you felt your heart stop, only to resume its beating at record-breaking speeds. “Like my drawings, I mean…”

You turned in his hold, and immediately buried your face in his neck. Not only seeking the heat of his skin, but also trying to hide the flustered reaction on your face. He just held you closer, further enveloping you in his warmth. 

“Thank you…” You mumbled against the skin of his neck, and he simply offered you a tiny sound of content in response.

In the safety of Changbin’s arms, blanketed in his body heat, you finally fell asleep. 

You didn’t mind staying at Changbin’s den, but you were starting to get a bit… bored. 

Mostly if he was gone. When he was there, you could at least strike conversation, or play some sort of game. Knucklebones was a favourite of yours, for example.

When he wasn’t here, all you did was try to keep yourself entertained with whatever items Changbin had lying around, or by tending to the garden inside the den.

At some point, you’d managed to use some of the numerous pieces of fabric he’d collected to make yourself a proper blanket. Although, to be fair, you hardly ever needed it.

It was a given at this point that he’d snuggle up next to you to keep you warm. Since that very first night, you’d only had to use your blanket when someone had entered the Labyrinth and he wasn’t here.

You’d admit, sleeping with Changbin was… nice. Especially since temperatures seemed to be decreasing by the day.

He was all plush and warm and his heartbeat just helped you relax. Ever since you got married–since you were forced to get married…–you had never enjoyed sharing your sleeping space, but, with Changbin, it was different. You just… felt safe. As odd as that might sound.

“It’s not fair! You got it so much easier to pick those up!” Changbin huffed, clicking his tongue when you, once again, beat him at your game of knucklebones.

“Find bigger pieces, then!” You chuckled, jiggling the small set of bones in your hand. “I’m sure there are plenty of huge rocks you can get in here”.

He just clicked his tongue again, finishing in a cute pout as he crossed his arms over his chest. All that did was bring your attention to the swell of his pecs and the size of his arms, which immediately made you swallow. 

Dear Gods, was he big… 

You scrambled to fix your eyes on his face. These were thoughts you didn’t feel like entertaining… what would be the point of it if you did? What would you even do with someone like Changbin? It felt a bit too… complicated. But, there was a little voice in the deepest areas of your conscience begging you to entertain the thought… telling you that it’d surely be worth it.

You decided to ignore it.

“Hey, Changbin”, you tried to get his attention back on you, disregarding the plethora of sinful scenarios that were playing in the back of your mind. 

Changbin’s ears flickered before he was fixing his eyes on you again, so you took it as a sign to speak. “You think I could… go out for a walk?”

He uncrossed his arms so he could lean back on his hands, once again, making you absolutely struggle to keep your eyes on his face and not on whatever was going on between his legs. “You want to?”

You just nodded in response, nervously tapping on the floor one of the bones you held in your hand.

“Then you can”, he replied simply.

“I can?” You didn’t mean to sound incredulous, but you supposed his nonchalance did take you by surprise.

“‘Course. If you want to, you can”.

“You don’t mind?”

Changbin blinked slowly at you for a moment, before his eyebrows furrowed. “Why would I mind?”

“Dunno… I thought you… thought you might”.

“Why did you think that?”

Huh, good question… Why would you think that?

You supposed there was a part of you that had just kind of… assumed he’d mind. But you realised then that he’d never really said anything about it.

He’d only ever asked you to stay when someone else came into the Labyrinth, and you supposed it made sense he would if he cared for your safety. Which you were pretty sure he did, considering all he’d done for you so far… So you just offered him a smile and a slight shake of your head. 

“Ah, it’s nothing…” You stood up from the floor and wiped your hands on your chiton. “‘Suppose I’ll be back in a bit…”

Changbin just hummed to acknowledge you, but didn’t say anything else, so you made your way to the entrance of the room.

When you finally reached it, you stopped. As you looked at the corridor outside of the circle-shaped area that made Changbin’s den, you couldn’t help but feel your stomach sink. No matter where you looked, left or right, the way was seemingly endless. Every direction looked almost the same–save for the few paintings on the walls and the different textures on the floor.

If you left for a walk, would you be able to find your way back? You honestly weren’t too sure, and, truly… you wanted to come back. You were sure there was no better place to be inside the Labyrinth other than here, with Changbin.

So you turned around, finding the beast himself looking at you. 

His tail swayed calmly behind him, his ears occasionally flickered, but, for the most part, he looked serene, sitting there on the floor where he’d been just before you stood up yourself.

“Would you… uhm…” You pinched a piece of your chiton between your fingers, and started fidgeting with it, looking in his overall direction but not really looking at him. “Would you like to come with me?”

You finally looked at his face. There was a small smile on his lips, and it honestly made your heart flutter. “Y’know I’ll find you if you get lost, right?”

No.

No, you didn’t know that.

You didn’t know he’d go out of his way to find you if you disappeared. You knew that he cared about what happened to you to some degree, but enough to look for you if you got lost? Even if it could potentially take days?

If you thought about it, maybe that, too, made sense. Maybe he enjoyed your presence just as much as you did his.

Licking your lips, you let go of that bit of fabric you’d been rolling between your fingers. “Would you come with me anyway?”

With a huff, Changbin stood up from the ground. He wiped his hands on his thighs, just before he walked to stand next to you. That was a good enough answer for you.

So, you finally stepped out into the corridor, and Changbin followed soon after.

The farther you tried to look, the more anxiety seemed to pool in your stomach. If the Labyrinth had made you claustrophobic when you first stepped in it, right now, leaving Changbin’s den, you felt haunted with agoraphobia. 

The corridors were endless, the ceiling felt like it was way too high–unlikely, since it was pretty much the same height as it was inside the den…–and the fact that you couldn’t see the first turn in either direction you looked had your head spinning. So you turned back to Changbin.

“Is there any place you like? If there is, I’d like you to show me”.

Changbin just nodded, and started walking. You followed him from closely behind, nervously looking over your shoulder sometimes, but, for the most part, you tried to focus on the drawings on the walls, or the flashes of nature around you.

It was quiet, save for the flicker of the eternal fire and the thumps produced with each step Changbin took. They weren’t as loud as they’d been the first time you heard him, probably because he was walking very, very slowly.

Even if he was walking slowly, though, you were starting to get out of breath from trying to keep up with the steps his long legs could take. One of Chanbin’s steps could’ve very well been ten of yours…

You weren’t sure how many turns you took, you simply followed him wherever he would go, asking for a few pauses sometimes when you felt like you needed to catch your breath.

There were parts of the Labyrinth that were dimmer than others. As Changbin explained to you, it was either because someone had taken a torch off its support on the wall and never returned it, or he himself had moved the torches somewhere else.

When you asked him why he’d moved them, he just said he’d get bored, and just found some entertainment in moving things around. Fair enough, you guessed…

Both of you finally came to a full stop in front of a tree. A big, very old-looking one. There was a patch of grass all around it, and it was almost tall enough to reach the ceiling. The hole above it surely provided enough light and water for the tree to thrive even down here. 

“This is a place I like. Birds come in here sometimes. They keep me company”, Changbin plopped down at the base of the tree and leaned on it. While he looked at you, he patted the grass in front of him, right between his legs.

Your body reacted before your mind could, and, almost instinctively, you found yourself sitting on the grass and snuggled against his chest. He just wrapped his arms around your frame and kept you close, like he often did. 

Soon enough, birds started coming in from the hole high above your heads, and you simply closed your eyes and started to hum a melody to accompany their chirping. You could certainly understand why he’d like being in a place like this, it was peaceful.

“You…” Changbin mumbled after a while, while he softly traced shapes on your arm with his thumb. “You used to pray, didn’t you?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, just before you pulled yourself away from his embrace to look him in the eyes. There was a bird perched on one of his horns already, picking at his hair, but he seemed unbothered by it.

“How’d you… How do you know that?” No one knew you prayed. In fact, you hadn’t prayed in a long, long time. It used to bring you comfort, maybe even hope, but that, too, had been crushed by the heavy weight of reality many moons ago.

Changbin looked up at the hole in the ceiling, which was covered by iron rods. His gaze was fixed on it for a while, and he remained quiet for a bit.

“I think I used to hear you pray”, his eyes were on yours again, and you suddenly felt your cheeks heating up at the attention. “You used to sing, too. Hum, like you did just now… The birds back then used to tell me you brought them food”.

The site you prayed at was incredibly far from where you’d been dropped into the Labyrinth. You knew this place was huge, but you honestly hadn’t realised just how much until this very moment.

“You stopped coming, though”, Changbin looked at you in a way that made you feel almost like he knew… “Was it because of him?”

Please! Don’t hurt me!

The memory was fresh, it wasn’t one you could just forget. Your husband… he wasn’t fond of the Gods, especially not the ones you prayed to. After all, you were praying in hopes they’d just… do something.

When law enforcement didn’t pay attention to you, you had turned to your faith for help.

But they, too, had failed you.

When your husband found out you’d been going to that specific place in the forest to pray, that you had your own humble shrine in there, he made absolutely sure you never returned. The place was now riddled with memories of nothing but pain, sorrow…

You felt a knot swell in your throat, out of fury more than anything else. You refused to let tears fall, though. The damage was done already, and even if you felt infuriated by how unjust everything that happened back then had been, the nightmare was over, and you had no one to thank but yourself for it.

Looking at Changbin, you nodded, just to let him know that it had been, in fact, because of him that you’d stopped going to pray to the forest currently above your heads.

“Even back then… I felt like it was unfair”, Changbin’s eyes jumped all over your face, while his thumb kept caressing the skin of your arm.

“It was”, you replied simply, looking up at him from where you were sitting between his legs. “But it’s no longer a problem. It’s stopped now”.

The bird that had been picking at Changbin’s hair finally flew away when he nodded. You looked him in the eyes for a while longer, until you finally leaned into him once again, and rested your head on his chest, right over his heart.

Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump…

The gentle rhythm vibrated against your ear, and, right then and there, you knew that it had all truly stopped. You were safe. It was, definitely, no longer a problem. In a way, you’d made sure of that…

You both stayed under that tree for a long time that afternoon, until you asked Changbin to show you anywhere else he liked before you made it back to the den.

Without saying a word, he effortlessly picked you up from the ground, and took you in his arms, making you all flustered when he offered you a ‘Tiny legs. Makes you slow…’ which you supposed you couldn’t argue with. To him, your legs were surely tiny, especially when compared to his own.

When you were back at Changbin’s den, you were tired, so you quickly washed up before you had dinner. Seared fish–courtesy of the eternal fire from one of the torches–with an assortment of fruits that somehow worked together, finished off with the corresponding pile of laurel leaves Changbin liked to chew on often–a habit which you yourself had picked up overtime.

It wasn’t long until you found yourself in Changbin’s nest, surrounded by soft fabric and his warmth. Cuddling had become one of your favourite winding down activities, and you certainly liked to do it for as long as you could. There was something about the closeness to someone else that felt… fulfilling. And you’d never truly felt this close to someone in your life.

Oftentimes, while cuddling, you also found yourself having the most profound conversations with Changbin. Either you or him–or both–would start bearing their hearts out for the other, and it was… nice.

Regardless of what you spoke about, it was nice.

“You…” Changbin mumbled, burying his fingers in your hair to gently caress your scalp. “Why’d they drop you here?”

You took a deep breath, mindlessly playing with the thick fur in the middle of his chest. “I took someone’s life…”

Changbin hummed, nuzzling your forehead with his nose. It was moist against your skin, but you didn’t mind.

“My husband…” You started, stilling the movement of your fingers in his fur to instead lay your hand on his chest. “I was just… I tried to get help. Every time he hurt me, I tried to get help. So, so many times… but no one listened. One night, he was trying to force himself on me and I just… took one of those hideous stone busts he kept around the house and I… hit him in the head”.

The memory wasn’t pleasant. You still remembered the first moment of shock, when you stared at his limp body on the floor. You remembered the blood, how it started to pool and stain that equally hideous rug he’d purchased for way too much money. You remembered the mess left behind when you tried to move your husband’s body out of the house so you could hide it in the forest…

But you were caught.

You were caught and no matter how much you explained what had happened, no one believed you.

“So I was sentenced to die”, you looked away from his chest to look him in the eyes. They seemed to be sparkling under the moonlight shining on you both. His eyes… They were gentle, and had the prettiest shade of brown you’d ever seen. “I should be dead by now. They were expecting you to kill me”.

Changbin’s eyes flickered between yours. They danced around your face for a moment, until they settled on your mouth. “I couldn’t. Don’t want to, either”.

“I know”, you mumbled simply. Bringing a hand to his face, you started tracing his features, his eyebrows, his nose, his cheeks… Changbin just closed his eyes as soon as your fingertips were on his skin, and his ears flickered happily as you did. “You’re way more than the beast people make you out to be”.

“You think so?” He asked it in a way that made it seem like he genuinely cared about what you had to say, like your opinion was valuable to him.

You hummed in confirmation, nodding slowly, because you truly meant it. Changbin was a bit of a brute, he was very capable of harming you, but he was also capable of being so incredibly gentle. Like he’d been with the injured bird he’d brought to his den many months ago. Like he’d been with you when he tended to your wounds when he brought you in here, or when you were shivering from the cold…

“Changbin…” You broke the silence after a while, placing your hand on his cheek and stroking the skin with your thumb. “Do you know what a kiss is?”

Changbin opened his eyes then, offering you an almost shy nod of his head.

“Have you kissed anyone before?” You placed your free hand on his chest, right over his heart. It was beating so incredibly fast… It was almost like you could feel every thump penetrate into your palm and rattle your insides.

Changbin shook his head, fixing his eyes on your mouth once again.

You licked your lips, almost absentmindedly. He was so close, and so warm, and you just… wanted him. “Would you like to?”

Changbin nodded again, so you just went for it.

Slowly, you leaned in, brushing your lips softly against his for a moment before you connected them fully. It was almost shy, just a tender peck on his lips, but it was a kiss nonetheless.

You pulled back a bit to look him in the eyes. Sparkly… Even more so than before. In an instant, his hand was at your waist, pulling you closer against his body as he leaned in to kiss you again.

It was slow, gentle, and it made your heart flutter. His lips slotted so perfectly with yours, you couldn’t even believe you’d ever kissed anyone else. So many kisses wasted, when you could’ve been giving them to him instead…

Tentatively, your tongue made contact with his bottom lip. He seemed to get the hint, since he parted his lips to let you in. With your arms around his neck, you kissed him deeply. He kissed you deeply.

At this very moment, there was nothing else in the world that wasn’t you and Changbin. The only thing that mattered was him and you in his nest, slowly getting your mouths acquainted with one another.

You didn’t know how long you spent right there, but you also didn’t care. By the time the moon had moved around in the sky and left you in partial darkness in Changbin’s den, you could already feel him poking your stomach.

The feeling of him, hard against your belly, set your insides alight.

You’d known for a long time, you’d been trying to ignore it, but you couldn’t do that any longer… You really wanted Changbin. Carnally. Like you’d want any other person.

His hands… His big, warm hands roamed your back, your rear, your thighs… It was like he wanted to make sure no part of your body was left untouched–at least the ones he currently had access to over your clothes. The kiss was turning sloppier and sloppier by the second, and, in no time, low bellows were resonating from Changbin’s chest.

It was just when you carded your fingers through his hair that he stiffened, fixing his hands on your waist and gripping you tightly to stop the grind of your hips you hadn’t even realised you’d started doing. 

When had he laid on his back? When had you straddled his waist? You were so lost in your kiss you hadn’t even noticed…

He pulled back fully, offering you an apologetic look while he brought his thumb to your bottom lip and swiped it over the swollen skin.

“Someone’s entered the Labyrinth…” Changbin mumbled, so quietly you wouldn’t have heard him if you hadn’t been so close.

You pouted sadly, but nodded in understanding. With one final peck on his lips, you finally rolled off of him and onto the plush nest, where you curled into yourself as you watched him get up.

Changbin bent down to kiss your forehead. He brushed his textured nose tenderly against yours for a moment, just before he threw your makeshift blanket over your body.

“I’ll be back in a few days. Hm?”

You simply nodded again, feeling your eyes growing heavier as sleep started to cling to your muscles. 

After one final smile, Changbin finally turned around and made his way out of his den. 

You couldn’t help but sneak a glance at him before he left, and, Gods… You really, really wanted him…

As you let your hand find its way between your legs, and even in your sleepy state, you couldn’t help but fully come face to face with the realisation that you wanted him, more than you’d ever wanted anyone else before.

With the tingles of pleasure you were coaxing from your centre that spread to all of your limbs, your mind wandered, trying to figure out just how you could… take him.

You had to find a way. You were determined to find a way.

You didn’t know how you’d do it, but you were certain you would.

Eventually, you would.

Changbin was taking longer than usual to come back from his last outing, and it was starting to worry you.

The first couple of days went by as usual. You washed any garments of clothing you’d collected over time, you tended to any of Changbin’s friends–meaning, the birds that would come from the surface–whenever they dropped by, or you simply spent it brainstorming all the possible ways in which you could pleasure such a monstrous cock.

Not only that, but how you could get pleasure from that monstrous cock. Because you were set on making the most of it. Gone were the days in which you shied away from your desires. You were a living being with needs, and if you couldn’t fulfil those needs with a literal giant half-bull, half-man creature, you were sure you wouldn’t have been able to do it with anyone else.

Besides, though, you didn’t want anyone else. 

And it wasn’t the fact that you were living in the Labyrinth and couldn’t even meet other human beings. What you felt for Changbin was something you’d never felt before. You genuinely cared about him… You cared a lot.

Which was why, by the fifth day he hadn’t returned to the den, you had bitten all ten of your nails almost to the flesh.

Where was he?

You were convinced it was pretty much impossible for him to get lost inside the Labyrinth, but what if he had?

Or worse…

What if whoever had been dropped in here hurt him?

What if he was hurt and you couldn’t help him?

Oh, Gods… 

What if he was dead?

Your chest felt heavy, you could barely breathe… What would you do without Changbin? You could definitely survive with all the resources you had here, but the question was… did you want to?

What was the point of staying alive inside the Labyrinth without him?

You wanted to cry just thinking about it. 

Tears were pricking your eyes, and it felt like your throat was closing up. 

At least, until…

Thump…

Thump…

Thump…

Thump…

You pretty much jumped from where you’d been sitting on the floor, sprinted out of the den and into the corridor. At this point, you could recognise Changbin’s heavy steps like your own heartbeat.

Looking left and right, you were unsure where exactly he was coming from, since the echo seemed to be coming from every direction. After a few moments of panic, you finally saw him to your left, so you ran.

You barely heard him saying your name when you were close, you were too focused on getting to him. When you buried your face in his stomach, he immediately started to caress your hair.

“Shh, hey…” He mumbled, dropping whatever he had in his free hand so he could press his palm on your back. “Don’t cry”.

You were sobbing, and you hadn’t even realised it until he had pointed it out.

When you pulled away, you could barely see him through your blurry vision. With one of his knuckles, he gently wiped the tears running down your cheeks.

It was only then that you noticed them, the cuts and gashes that littered his whole torso. The sight had adrenaline rushing into your body immediately.

“Oh, my dear Gods! What happened to you?!”

“Kid was resilient”, was all he said when he pulled himself away from your hold. He bent down–with seemingly great effort–and took the bag that he’d dropped on the ground. “C’mon, need to… to lay down. Will tell you everything after…”

You took the bag from him immediately, and wrapped your free hand around one of his fingers to gently tug him forward–as if that would do anything…

It took several minutes for both of you to reach the den once again. As soon as you were inside, Changbin pretty much collapsed on the ground, and started instructing you to bring him all sorts of herbs from his garden along with some fresh water.

You got to work, following Changbin’s directions to clean him up, apply the freshly chewed mix of leaves on the open wounds, and dress them with whichever extra pieces of fabric you could find laying around. As you did this, he told you about the young man that had entered the Labyrinth. 

Apparently, he was skilled enough to not only hurt Changbin, but also to essentially defeat him.

“All these years, no one has ever come this close to killing me…”

The concept of Changbin being killed made your heart ache, but you pushed the feeling away as you tried to focus on the task at hand, as well as to continue listening to him. 

The young man had spared him. He’d told Changbin that he’d come into the Labyrinth out of his own free will because he was looking for something. 

“Told him I’d help him find it if he let me live”, Changbin said once you’d finished dressing his wounds and he’d finally laid down on your nest.

“And? Did you?” You asked as you gathered two heavy jugs of fresh water to bring them to him. After all, two jugs were pretty much two glasses of water for him…

Changbin drank both jugs one after the other, each one in one gulp, offering a quiet ‘Thank you’ before he answered your question. “Yeah. Pointed him in the right direction, told him how to find the way to the spot he was looking for…”

You laid down next to him, and snuggled yourself as close as you could. Changbin pulled you even closer, and only then did he seem to fully relax, practically melting into your nest.

“He wanted me to go with him… But I was too hurt”, he mumbled against your hair, sounding just so incredibly tired. “Also… I had to come home. Needed to be here with you…”

You felt tears well in your eyes again. Holding him tight–being careful to not apply too much pressure on his wounds–you craned your neck, just so you could press a lingering kiss on his cheek.

Changbin exhaled a shaky breath with the motion, and, after pressing a few more pecks on his skin, you finally laid your head on his chest.

“Welcome home…” The words came out of your mouth as barely a whisper, mostly because you didn’t trust your voice right now. You were already feeling your whole body trembling as the tears started to fall again.

Changbin held you tight, pressing a final kiss on the crown of your head.

“Missed you, tiny human…” was the last thing to come out of his mouth before he passed out.

Caring for an injured giant was easier than you had expected it to be. Although, you’d admit that helping him wash up was a bit hard.

Not because you had to provide any sort of support when he got into a pond or anything like that, but mostly because Changbin insisted that he needed you in there with him.

He got extra whiny about it, but you didn’t let him coax you into it. Not because you didn’t want to, but because, if you did get naked with him in the water, you knew you’d get distracted and his wounds could suffer the consequences.

After a few days, he seemed to have regained most of his strength, and the cuts scattered over his body were healing nicely. Even then, he kept insisting he needed you to help him.

“If you want to see me naked, just say so”, you couldn’t hold that back any longer. The words just flew past your lips, and you knew they’d had the desired effect as soon as you saw the pink tint on his cheeks.

“I don’t–I mean, I do, but it’s not–” He was tumbling over his words, and it was absolutely adorable. 

You stood up from where you’d been sitting cross-legged by the edge of the pond, and started toying with the belt of your chiton. He went quiet immediately, and his eyes zeroed in on the way you played with the fabric between your fingertips.

“Do you want to see me naked, Changbin?”

He blinked slowly for a moment, and his ears flickered cutely. “Maybe…”

“Maybe?” You untied the knot, and the garment immediately loosened.

You saw him swallow. His gaze remained fixed on your belt, like he was trying to somehow make it disappear completely. 

“Changbin?” You called him again, and his eyes snapped back up to meet yours, giving you his undivided attention. “Do you want to?”

Changbin stared at you for a moment before he nodded. That tiny movement, coupled with the light blush on his cheeks made you feel… empowered. Which was something you had never really felt before in this context.

You’d heard other people tell you about it, you’d read about it in the romance novels you used to read, but you had never truly experienced it. That feeling, coupled with how pliant a literal giant like Changbin got when you so much hinted at being naked, filled you with confidence.

So you removed your clothes, and slowly, you went into the pond.

Changbin was sitting on the ground, which made it so you were almost at eye level with him. You could practically feel his eyes all over your body, leaving an almost searing sensation on your skin. 

When you finally stood in front of him, his hands found your waist. Changbin pulled you closer, so your bodies could be flush to each other. With your arms around his neck, you leaned in for a kiss.

He held you tightly, but gently. You knew he was well aware of his strength, and you knew he liked to be careful so as to not hurt you, which you certainly appreciated.

When you pulled back from the kiss, Changbin brushed your nose against yours, making you giggle. As usual, it was moist, but you didn’t mind.

“You’re pretty”, he whispered the words against your shoulder, where he was pressing lingering kisses on your skin–being extra careful not to poke you with his horns.

“And you’re very handsome”, you replied simply, because it was the truth. Months ago, you hadn’t even known someone like him could exist, and here you were now, absolutely smitten by what most would consider an oddity.

“You think so?” He mumbled absentmindedly, dragging his hands all over your back. His large hands…

“Mm… I do think so”.

He pulled away so he could look at you. A smile had spread across his face, making his eyes turn into little crescents. It always made your heart flutter whenever he smiled, and it was certainly a contagious gesture.

Changbin kissed your cheek once, twice, thrice more, before he was speaking again. 

“Y’know… I haven’t… I’ve never…” He sighed, frowning before he shook his head and started all over again. “Want to make you feel good, but I don’t know how”.

Your eyes widened a bit. Not because you didn’t know that he wouldn’t know how to make you feel good, but because he seemed to genuinely care about it.

“I can show you”, you caressed his shoulders briefly before you cupped his cheeks. “Then you can show me how to make you feel good, hm?”

Changbin nodded, rather enthusiastically, and it made you smile.

“There are… many places you can touch to make me feel good”, you dragged your hands down his arms, until you reached his hands and pulled them away from your back. “For example, here…”

You brought his hands to your chest, and he reflexively squeezed the flesh. “That feels nice, but… touch here”.

Taking a hold of one of his fingers, you guided it to your nipple. The rough pad of his fingertip dragging over the sensitive skin immediately had a shiver running up and down your spine. 

He seemed to catch on very quickly, because the moment you let go of his hands, he immediately started to stimulate your chest. Between his motions and the cool water around you, your nipples stiffened further, and the first whimper came out of your mouth.

Changbin looked at you for a moment, like he was unsure if he had done something wrong, so you immediately reassured him.

“That’s good… Feels good”.

“Feels good?” He asked, adding a bit more pressure.

You nodded in confirmation, and then took a hold of his wrists. “Pinch them harder between your fingers”.

“Don’t wanna hurt you, though”, he sounded genuinely worried about it, which would’ve made you heart melt in other circumstances, but in these circumstances, you needed him to give you all he had–or, at least, all you could stand.

“Do it gradually, I’ll let you know ‘til when. Trust me?”

Changbin nodded, and immediately obliged. As soon as he reached the pressure that was just perfect, you let him know–in quite possibly the most desperate tone you’d ever mustered.

Your lips were on his thereafter. He tugged and pulled and stimulated your nipples in ways that had you moaning into his mouth, that seemed to be coaxing inhuman noises from deep within him.

Your centre was throbbing, desperate for some attention, so you pulled away from the kiss. You were met with Changbin’s blown pupils and flushed cheeks, a sight so incredibly delectable you started to seriously entertain the impossible. Would he fit…?

“Here, too”, you took a hold of one of his hands and brought it between your thighs, giving him enough space to manoeuvre. “You feel that bump?”

When the pad of his finger made contact with your clit you almost jolted in place, but you tried to stay focused as best as you could. 

“Rub in circles. Gently”.

He complied, following the same motions as before, increasing the speed and pressure until you told him exactly how you liked it to be. 

It all became a blur of moans and pants and bellows… All you could feel was the pleasure coursing through your body and Changbin’s warmth all around you. His teeth, his tongue, his lips, his fingers… He was working you up diligently, bringing you closer to the edge.

“So good…” You whimpered against his lips, just before your tongues were intertwined again.

Changbin nodded, almost mindlessly. 

When you’d finally reached your climax, you did so with his name on your tongue. Repeating it over and over again like it was the only word you knew in this world.

You’d found pleasure on your own many, many times, but it’d never felt like this. You weren’t sure if it was the weight of your feelings for him, or if it’d been the thrill of having this experience with Changbin for the first time, but the way that orgasm seemed to be consuming every single one of your senses was absolutely mind-blowing.

He didn’t stop working you up until you asked him to. As soon as he did, you wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned your weight on him for support. Changbin held you tightly, lovingly caressing your back and pressing kisses on your shoulder as you caught your breath.

“Prettiest sounds I’ve ever heard…” He mumbled against your skin, and it made you laugh.

You felt light, like tonnes had just been lifted off of your shoulders. When you pulled away, you cupped his cheeks, and started peppering kisses all over his face, which made him giggle. So adorably you felt your heart swell in your chest.

“Now…” With one final kiss on his lips, you placed your hands on his chest, squishing the soft muscle. “You show me”.

A smirk made its way onto his lips, and after taking one of your hands, he moved it away from his chest to let it sink further underwater, until it met the warm, smooth skin of his length. He left your other hand on his chest, but instead of just letting it rest there, he guided your fingers to one of his nipples so you could gently rub your fingertip against it and play with the jewellery.

“I’ll show you”, he emphasised his words by using his hand to coax your hold around his cock to tighten. Your fingers didn’t even meet as you held him, and the thought, along with the feel, made you feel dizzy with arousal. “Will show you anything. Everything…”

‘You think this could… fit you?’ Changbin had shyly asked you a couple of weeks ago, when he offered you one of the silver hoops he usually wore on one of his horns. Where he got the idea to do that was beyond you, but it honestly didn’t matter, it made you giddy all the same.

It did fit–as an armlet, at least. It was purely material and maybe even a bit vain, but having this item on you at all times simply made you feel tingly. It made your heart swell in your chest and it had butterflies fluttering in your belly.

It felt significant, in a way. Kind of like… like your own version of a wedding band.

In the past, you had never been excited about being a bride, or about being someone’s wife. But you realised things could change. 

Changbin had certainly changed you. You would’ve never imagined that your death sentence would be the thing to actually help you feel alive, and yet, that was exactly what had happened to you. 

Did you sometimes have bouts of fury and rage because of how unfair everything that you’d gone through had been?

Yes.

Did you want all those officials to die a very painful death for judging you the way they did?

Also yes.

But at least, here, you found your place. You found love.

Because you loved Changbin. Horns and tail and hooves and all. Even with his annoyingly big cock that you knew you’d never be able to fit inside you without tearing you in half, even then, you loved him. Truly. 

It took only a visit from that young man he had encountered months ago for you to fully realise it.

He’d appeared out of nowhere, on a random day. Changbin had put himself between you and the young man, but the boy wasn’t a real threat, he’d come just to ask for help to find something else within the Labyrinth.

It was over supper that he’d talked to you, right there in front of Changbin. 

‘Don’t you want to go back to the surface? I know a way out…’

You could still remember how Changbin’s tail started to thrash anxiously behind him, but he didn’t say anything. He’d just fixed his eyes on the floor, slowly chewing his food. He didn’t interrupt or even attempt to divert the conversation. Back then, at least to you, it felt like he was getting ready to accept whichever decision you took.

‘Why would I go back? This is my home. There’s nothing up there for me’.

And when you’d said it, you truly meant it.

This was your home… but it wasn’t the Labyrinth.

It was all Changbin.

You’d wandered the Labyrinth together for a few days after that, helping that young man look for the mysterious artefact he needed. It’d been an adventure for sure…

When you were back in your cosy den after that little adventure, Changbin had given you the thick hoop, your armlet. You’d gotten so used to wearing it, you sometimes forgot you had it on.

At least, until you caught a glimpse of it in your peripheral vision, like you did just now. Somehow, the reminder of its existence further fed the fire that was burning bright in the pit of your stomach. 

The feel of Changbin’s hands on your hips, gripping you tightly–as tight as he knew your body could handle–made you moan. The feel of him, hard and warm against your folds had your mind all fogged up and hazy, especially when he was under you like this, guiding the movement of your hips to increase the pressure of your centre grinding against his bare length, trapping it between your core and his abdomen.

“Mmm… fuck…” He whined under his breath, staring at the place your bodies connected, at the way your slick cunt dragged against his cock.

You nodded in agreement, rather eagerly, because you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. Not when the way you were essentially humping him felt this incredibly good.

With your hands on his chest, both for support and so you could play with his nipples in just the way he loved so much, you chased that sweet, sweet relief that’d been steadily growing closer to you since you sat on him however long ago. The pressure on your clit was just absolutely perfect like this, especially when he was pushing you down and assisting your own movement.

“Changbin, darling, I’m… fuck, want to…” You could barely speak, but you knew he understood you perfectly, because he had you moving faster, he pushed you down harder, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

Before you knew it, you were trembling with your release. The only thing keeping you from collapsing was Changbin’s tight hold, but you still tried your best to keep moving, to keep providing him with as much pleasure as you could.

With a broken plea of your name, the first of many shots of thick cum spouted from the tip of his cock. The results of his orgasm’s were, of course, proportional to his size. He always seemed to produce bucket-loads of cum whenever he came, drenching his whole torso, and you in the process.

Changbin looked so, so pretty like this. Flushed, whining, bellowing, desperately rutting into you to make the most out of his release. You didn’t care that you were close to the point of oversensitivity, you just wanted to continue seeing him like this for as long as it lasted.

When the final spurt of cum landed on his abdomen, the tight grip he had on your hips loosened. The lack of his support made it so that you simply collapsed on top of him, gasping for air. 

Oh, how fulfilling it was to hear his increased heartbeat against your ear, to feel his warm cum sticking to you…

You both laid there for a moment, just enjoying the feel of one another and catching your breaths. 

Changbin had to act a bit quickly after coming, though. Otherwise his cock would retreat into its sheath covered in his drying cum, which could not only become a gross mess, but also cause him real, painful problems the next time he got hard.

So as soon as he regained his strength, he was moving, carrying you in his arms and getting you both inside the nearest pond to get cleaned up. 

You always helped him, of course. Just like he helped you.

Getting to bathe each other felt intimate, like a bonding experience, so you enjoyed it. 

You barely spoke to each other during these moments. You just took the time to further enjoy the other’s body in a more profound way. 

It wasn’t until you were out of that pond, dry, in a fresh set of clothes, and huddled together in your cosy nest that he was finally speaking again.

“I really like it when we do it like that…” He mumbled against your hair, softly dragging his fingertips on your back.

You chuckled softly, pressing a soft peck on his collarbone. “Is it better than when you fuck my thighs?”

Changbin inhaled sharply, placing his free hand on your bum. “It’s different. It’s easier to come together this way”. 

You hummed, smiling in amusement at the comment. 

There was silence for a while, but you knew he was awake. If he hadn’t been, the soft caresses on your back would’ve stopped already.

The armlet shone in your peripheral vision, and you were reminded once again that this was your home. That you belonged here.

“Changbin?”

He hummed to let you know he was listening, not stopping the movement of his hands.

“Why didn’t you kill me when you found me wandering the Labyrinth?”

Changbin was quiet for a while, until he nuzzled your hair before he placed a kiss on the top of your head. 

“I recognised your voice”, he replied simply. “You fed my friends. You didn’t have to, but you did it anyway. They always appreciated it, and I couldn’t help but appreciate it, too”.

You pulled yourself away from his hold a bit, enough to look him in the eyes. “Can you imagine if I’d never spoken in the forest? Or if I never fed the birds? You would’ve eaten me”.

He frowned. “Don’t wanna think about that. Besides, you did do it. Why think about the past like that?”

You smiled at him, just before you pressed a quick peck on his lips.

As you buried your face further in the crook of his neck, and started to feel the pull of sleep on your body, you figured Changbin was right.

There was no point in thinking about the past. No point in dwelling on the what-ifs. The only thing that mattered was the present, and the future you hoped to have with him here, in your home.

Author’s Note x2: i came into this expecting this story to be nothing but filth and a horny mess, not... whatever this ended up being. it definitely didn’t go the way i thought it was going to go when i had originally read that ask, but, y’know… the little lizard in my brain just does whatever it wants. i’m happy with it, and, if you made it this far, i hope you enjoyed it, too.  especial thanks to @notastraykid and @channieskies for reading this before anyone else and for giving me their valuable opinions and suggestions.

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[beloved-blaiddyd]

When The Cypress Tree Wilts [Yandere!Kamisato Ayato x Reader]

Prompt: Kamisato Ayato, the sole survivor of Teyvat, struggles to cope with grief. He finds solace in the company of a fellow survivor, (Y/n), on the Astral Express. Although the two came from different universes, with him being a fictional character on (Y/n)'s end, he had grown fond of them. Perhaps too fond for Mister Yang's liking. He has seen this story played out once already. [Dedicated to @jessamine-rose]

Content Tags: (light?) yandere themes, major character death, we ain't trusting getting roses again after this one boys

For twenty-seven years, the cypress tree stood alone. Its branches, exhibiting complete fortitude to withstand erosion, have been a home for many animals. A guardian of many and a home for herons. It's no stretch to say its artistic seriousness made the Cypress tree the Warden of the Forest. 

What happens, though, if the forest catches fire? What happens when everything it held dear—all the pillars ingrained in the firmest soil—is reduced to ashes in a single glance? When the forest's life-loving temperament disappears, just what is left of the guardian tree? 

There's only one answer: the Cypress loses its Inazuman function. Harmony, balance, and peace wither away from the tree's symbolism. All that's left is the alternative Enkanomiyan myth: cypress trees must only be planted as a mourning tradition. 

The Warden of Death...

Kamisato Ayato closed his eyes, making his umpteenth attempt to breathe steadily. 

He sat upright on one of the Astral Express's couches. It's been more than eight months since he had found himself as the sole survivor of his world. So far, everything that had been told to him had been unreal. 

Gone were the clan, his retainers, and his dearest sister. None were left as he watched their remains swept by the wind. Memories of Ayaka's burnt hair and cheeks crumbling refused to leave his every waking moment. He tried desperately to hold on, but the ashes kept slipping through his fingers until his family's white heron was reduced to a lifeless husk. Her feathers were plucked too soon.  

He cannot have her back. He cannot have his clan back. His world was forever unsalvageable.

That was his fate as the Remembrance's souvenir. He can carry the weight of survival while the memokeepers preserve Teyvat's memories.  

But at least he has someone in a similar position as himself. 

"Mister Yang," you called over the older man hushedly. Welt glanced at the mopping mess and knew just what you were hinting at. Better to alert someone who can assist him better.

"Are you alright, Mister Kamisato?" Welt asked, sitting beside Ayato. He passed his cane onto his other hand so he could pat his shoulder. Ayato only laughed stiffly. 

Thankfully, it's not an entirely hopeless cause. There was, at least, a silver lining to make up for it. No matter how dim the glimmer was, he at least had the Express's understanding. 

And yours as well. 

Ab███████, h█ed his pl█as.

"—to, you can still think this through!"

"Stand back, Himeko."

Just like him, you lost your world, too. You came from a fabric of existence wherein he was deemed fictional. A video game called "Genshin Impact", as you called it. You were terrified when you discovered your universe crumbled because of some time-travel paradox. But in spite of your enormous losses, curiosity triumphed over fear. You would prefer exploring the galaxy than thinking about how much work you still need to do for your college classes.

But today? You rest. After all, the express is landing in Penacony.

While Welt did his best to provide consolation, you handed them warm drinks. Ayato gave you a gentle nod. 

He gave it a quick sip. Unlike Himeko's, your brew was more tame. Not at all professionally made— it's everyday coffee— but that adds more to its appeal. Ayato politely wiped possible stains near his lips. You can't help but notice how his mole was placed below it. 

He's definitely a video game character, that's for sure. They don't make people this attractive in your old world. 

Just holding the coffee you made… feeling its warmth in his hands… It gave him strength to speak. 

Ayato sighed. "Apologies, I simply… will take longer to recover my mental composure. I am not usually this easy to rattle or ramble often. I deeply apologize for the trouble I caused the express thus far."  

"I do wonder if I had wronged the Gods. I committed plenty of misdeeds in the eyes of the Shogun, yet they were pardoned. But perhaps the Heavenly Principles…" He muttered, thinking he was inaudible. More than half a year without his retainers and constant troubles had dulled his vigilance.

Welt shook his head. "Do not be harsh on yourself by culminating these harmful… ideals, Mister Kamisato."

"I agree." You said. "At any rate, you'll end up miserable for the entire month if you keep overthinking what that Silver Wolf said."

His mood had been visibly dampened since Silver Wolf's last visit. She claims that he was "destined for ruin based on Elio's script" and that it was better he knew about it now rather than later. 

Ayato looked away. "I suppose so… This wishful thinking brings me nothing but thoughts such as to save my one and only sister, with this pitiable strength— how can I recreate the past?"

Welt grew cold with mild horror. Then, he cleared his throat after a suspiciously long pause. 

The past Welt knows is not the past he wants a repeat of.

"Why focus on that when the future awaits you?" He said, but with how the older man refused to meet his lilac eyes, there must be more he won't let on. 

"Your reluctance… Does this have something to do with what the memokeeper previously stated?"

"...What Black Swan said?" You tilted your head. 

Welt sighed. "So many things must be runnin' around your head... I don't usually encourage drinking, but maybe you should have a few shots later."

"I shall consider it, but I must know now, Mister Yang." He looked at him. "What did she mean when she said I was an alternate version of your acquaintance, Otto Apocalypse?"

Welt coughed up his coffee. 

Re██y his angu█████ c███s.

"-to, don't do this. You can't bring ██████ back—"

“Your farcical tangents will distract me no more. Do not play parlor tricks with that cane of yours. My mind is sound, and my decision is final."

"..."

"..." 

"..." 

Ever since Ayato was dubbed as a new Nameless alongside you, he's been bombarded with both blunt and subliminal messages of his supposed "true" nature. One faction agrees he's an existence not meant to be trifled, while the other wants to cultivate him into a villain. 

You don't know much about that. Unlike whatever hero's journey he had been experiencing— you're detached from trouble. Your new life was spent writing, dressing up with March, eating with Stelle, and reading through Dan Heng's data banks about constellations & other aesthetically pleasing biological entries. You were a quiet existence. Black Swan remarked you're amicable for someone who cannot return to normalcy. You embrace change far better than others.

But you think that's because there's enough grieving for the Express to carry; they don't have room to acknowledge yours… 

"You're Kamisato Ayato, not Otto." You told him firmly. "Don't overthink what she said."

"It is not as if I do not know that, how—"

"No, there are no buts or howevers; that's final."

Ayato laughed softly, no longer tense. 

"Understood. I'm your Kamisato Ayato, right?" He tilted his head like a dog. 

"Yes, yes, you're our Ayato." You sighed. 

He's a lot cuter when relaxed. 

You shook your head. 

No, better not let this develop into something else. You don't want to have a crush on a guy that's essentially no different from a flatmate. 

Furthermore, you exclusively confide in him. You'd rather your relationship as each other's anchor remains the same in the future. After all, you're not the type to let everyone in the room know your baggage. So was Ayato, but... His trauma lends itself to the extremes.

While you were lost in thought, adorable footsteps strutted closer. 

Angry, adorable footsteps. 

"What are you guys doing drinking coffee?! The train is about to jump soon!!!"

Pompom huffed. They put their little paws on their hips, scoffing at you three. You apologized profusely, forgetting that your trip to Penacony was in ten minutes. 

"Sorry, Pompom." Welt sheepishly said. 

Ayato looked at Pompom earnestly. "So am I."

"Whatever, okay, but you better change later! You can't join a wedding wearing those clothes!!!"

You frowned. You were already dressed, though. You thought you already looked perfect for the evening. Maybe you should've tried harder... Perhaps you were too relaxed about this...

"Oh, but I'm sorry…" You told them, frowning.

Pompom shook their head, panicking. "Not you, (Y/n), you're always so harsh on yourself— you always know how to dress pretty. I'm talking about these two boys!"

They stared at each other before laughing awkwardly, provoking the conductor further. 

Pompom growled, grabbing the broom. 

"You know what?! Get off the sofa! Change! NOW!!!"

Abu████ce, stir this b███ft ████e, 

"WHY DID YOU HAVE TO KILL HIM?!? HE WAS LIKE A BROTHER TO US!!!"

It's clear that someone isn't having the best time.

Penacony weddings are too lively for Ayato's tastes. But much like shadows, nobody can evade the bright lights. 

He nearly tumbled when he saw you. By the looks of his pale face, the lively atmosphere had been draining him senseless. While he maintained his elegant demeanor when talking to Aventurine (and failing), you were refilling your cup at the food aisle. Once Ayato reached you, he desperately wanted to place his head on your shoulder. 

“Please… lend me… Five…”

You smiled and opened your arms.

"Don't speak, I got you."

He leaned on your shoulder.

The five seconds you assumed were startlingly morphing into five minutes. You can't feign as a warm statue for that long. While you worry about your willpower, Ayato sank deeper into his thoughts to meditate. 

From this angle, he looked like a resting cat.

"You okay, Ayato?"

"The SoulGlad, it's so…"

Ah, right. You figured he might've drunk.

"Not once had it been a passing thought that excessive alcohol and fire displays would be a common wedding practice. The culture shock is astounding." Ayato leered quietly. "Thankfully, I no longer care about putting on a social mask. I cannot stomach participating in copious amounts of… festivities."

You laughed. Is it bad you find his suffering entertaining? 

"Is it so different from how they conduct weddings in Inazuma?"

"Hard to say… The Clan may be focused on cultural ceremonies, but I purposely avoided weddings. It helps steer clear talks of arranged marriages. I can only name Chisato's as an exception on top of my head." Ayato placed a hand on his chin. 

He continued. "Extravagant weddings such as this had a decline for two years. The dismal lives of vision wielders immensely affected how much pyrotechnics and other displays were available. Any commonplace joy could be marked as vulgarity by the Shogun at any second... All those charges just for an insincere ceremony."

"I… See." You assumed the answer was a resounding no. "Sounds like you're against marriages of convenience."

Ayato pulled away, looking at you. 

"Not entirely. I understand why it's a necessary evil, given our politics." He said. "But I still firmly believe that when there's true love, nothing should stand in its way."

His eyes reveal that he's starting to sober up. In Penacony, it was probably a beneficial phenomenon. Might as well give away hangover relief if you market alcohol as the icon of your dreamscape. 

"(Y/n), this may sound peculiar, but I glimpsed at an apparel store nearby."

You nodded slightly. He knew you had an affinity for fashion. When you visited the Xianzhou Luofu, he mapped out stores that might interest you. Ayato likes the way you dress. Sometimes, he would even approach you for a consult. 

"And? What did you see? Did you take a picture?"

He groggily nodded and pulled out his phone. 

"Please, take a look."

…

You blinked, turning red. 

"Ayato, these are wedding dresses…"

"I do know that, yes, but don't you believe some of these would suit you? Oh— this one is a particular favorite of mine."

…

He said it so casually that you were beginning to doubt if you were insane. Do friends casually daydream about another friend in a wedding dress? Is that a norm for platonic relationships? You looked away and gently pushed his phone away. 

… You hate how you liked what he picked out.

And you know he noticed it, too. Cheeky bastard. 

"Let's hold that thought for now."

"May I ask why?" He tilted his head, slightly pouting. "I think a traditional white wedding dress would compliment you. Are you, perhaps, seeing flaws I have missed?"

"Y-You're really not getting it, huh…"

Whatever was troubling you, he wasn't about to dissect it. His thoughts were reduced to simplicity that evening, just down to you look gorgeous tonight. The two of you should extend your visit to Penacony for much longer. It is always night here… 

How unfair that you dressed so prettily; he wished it was for his eyes alone. The delicately lace-adorned pastel pink dress suits you well. It felt like a grave sin for him to keep staring at the delicate sapphire necklace resting atop your neck. Not to add, a few strands of your hair framed your face, and your hair was tastefully swept into a neat (h/c) bun. What completes the look is the strappy heels. 

When will it be your wedding, (Y/n)?

Your face contorted. "How drunk are you?"

Ayato smirked curtly and shrugged back to what March calls his "nobleman smile", gazing at you intently. You weren't sure if he was listening to you anymore. 

"Enough."

That was his reply, short and simple. 

As long as your eyes mirror his, it's enough for him. 

“LAAADDIEESSS AND GENTLEEEMEEENNN AND OTHER LIVING CREAAATURREEESSS!!!!”

A rather shrill voice shouted through a microphone. It's the wedding's host. From the volume, anyone can discern that it came from the event room. You placed your cup down. It's that time— noises from excited guests, lonesome people, in particular, were shared around. No one can miss their hands, which tremble with excitement. 

You jolted.

Shit, that's Sparkle. You promised Stelle and March that you four would take BFF pictures in the costume photo booth before the final farewells. Something about silly masks and hats. Miss it, and you're guaranteed to enter the next fight without a shield. Worse, you might wake up with a bat-shaped wound on your head. 

You grabbed Ayato and swerved past the crowd.

“(Y-(Y/n)?!”

Ayato's mind went blank. 

You voluntarily held his hand. Gloved hands. Still, he thanked March that she gave him a pair for the occasion. His hands were sweating, and his cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. 

Public displays of affection are generally subdued in his old world. Handholding raises questions regarding those reared into nobility like he was. His upbringing was far from liberal, so he did his best to give his sister more freedom, yet he is not accustomed to this skinship.

He gripped yours back weakly. Ayato can't stop staring at your determined expression. He gulped. Can you sense it? Are you secretly enjoying this? Do you know what you're doing? 

Can you feel your effect on him?

He's not just drunk. 

He might be hopelessly in love with you.

Ayato grew hotter by the second. His breath was stripping away bit by bit. This epiphany was consuming him. He's been trying to deny it for as long as possible, but how laughable is it to do so when he had often pictured himself in peaceful household situations beside you? Can such desires be kept in the shadows, much like his Shuumatsuban work?

He wants you.

Kamisato Ayato wants you as his sole partner.

Wherever you're taking him, he'll follow you to the end, down to the last seconds of this script.

"THE BRIDE IS ABOUT TO THROW THE BOUQUET!!!"

Many lonely guests packed together like penguins. When the bride spun the bouquet around her palm, their reactions ranged from hopeful and cheerful to downright competitive and miserable. They thought a few flowers would ensure marriage, which is a little absurd, but who are you to spoil their fun? Simply because they obstruct your path does not warrant your discreet resentment—

Ayato stopped, halting you as well in the process.

"Ngh…?!"

You looked back, and such an act almost felt as forbidden as Orpheus' most egregious mistake.

If there was a semblance of variety in those women's faces, they were unified in one fell swoop. Their faces soured when the bouquet was passed down to its next owner. Worse, the flowers sat so beautifully in his arms.

That's right. His.

Those red roses…

"AALLLLRIIIIGHTTT! IT SEEMS MISTER KAMISATO GOT IT!!!" Sparkle cheered on. She had a crooked smile on her face. It didn't ring as malicious; instead, she was conflicted before she donned a playful mask. "And sheesh, while holding (Y/n) 's hand too— CONGRATS TO THE SOON-TO-BE-S!!!"

Ah, damn it. Instead of this, you wish people had applauded when you presented your thesis. No matter how crestfallen some were, they were at least good sports. They clapped and teased; you even spotted Himeko raising you a glass at your shared table, laughing. Beside her, Welt did you the courtesy of reminding you that you're hands were linked together. You gawked, pulling away as though Ayato's hand burned. Immediately, he cleared his throat and looked away. 

To Ayato, this was the only sign he needed.

With enough time and effort, a leafless tree could still be saved, new birds could still migrate, and an abandoned forest could still be restored. Gradually, he was discovering a fresh cause for optimism instead of a substitute for the people he had lost. There he was, Kamisato Ayato, a hidden custodian of Inazuman traditions, with his feet rooted in a foreign land. Though not very stable, his groundwork keeps him on course.

If he could revive the Kamisato Clan on its brink, how can he not do the same for his life? It's just like what his late father said:

Fall down seven times, stand up eight.

As long as a hand still reaches out for him, he'll do anything to grasp it. 

Unfortunately for you, it was yours that held his so tightly.

Hence, whether you like it or not, amidst the guests' congratulatory remarks and the bride's laughs, he had made up his mind.

Ayato will pursue you until you wear the gown of his dreams. 

More people trailed behind Sparkle and the bride as they went down the stage and to Ayato. You made an effort to get in touch with him to return to your starting point. However, it was challenging, given the number of people around. To hear what bashful comments he said was an even taller order.

That was until the bride dragged her new husband towards you.

"Here, dearie, the garter!"

You blinked.

"What?"

"You know the tradition, bouquet, and garter— I know it ain't as exciting as a bouquet, but ya can't be a pair without it." The husband grinned. "C'mon, take it!"

Your eyes widened.

"Oh no, I couldn't possibly—"

"Aww, please, do you think we'll get in the way of love when we just got married?" The bride joked. Even though you don't know her well—you just know she's Stelle's friend—you didn't like how this sounded. "C'mon, take it! Don't make poor Mister Kamisato sad."

Did Ayato request this?

You looked back at him. He was smiling at his fellow guests.

He must've made a drunken joke.

"Alright, I'll have it." You'll be a team player, too.

Unbeknownst to you, Ayato's heart was brimming with joy as soon as you accepted it. You twisted the garter around your hand and tied it into a bracelet, and his eyes wrinkled. His face was beaming, and the guests warmly pointed out that it was definitely NOT the drink.

You laughed softly.

Maybe Stelle wouldn't get too angry after she sees these "loots".

Unfortunately, unlike the worlds you once immersed yourself in, your life was not a game. This second try was no exception.

There's a stark difference between the people he loves and himself, Ayato later found. The latter cannot sustain a better life for those he warded, while the former cannot attain the luxury of a peaceful death.

Readers would have gone crazy over how the author mercilessly punished and blamed the main character's dreams if his life had been a work of fiction. If it were genuinely one, he would venture to say that the systematic fate that everyone else was subjected to is the primary criticism.

His mother, his father, his sister, his clan.

And then you?

Ayato had already lost everything twice. 

There's no restraint left for him to hold on to. 

So…

"Mister Kamisato, please hear us out!" March begged, the shrill of her voice becoming hauntingly akin to a dull knife— repeatedly cutting through ears in prolonged agony. 

Ayato scoffed. His blue locks framed his face as he gazed down.

He's heard enough. 

Why shouldn't he challenge his fate?

Why shouldn't he challenge Elio's script?

"Whether I permit you or not, there won't be an intelligent word out of you." 

No other voice came to disparage him. This silence was loud. As if a voice was missing. Ayato looked at the ground.

He had almost forgotten he had used his former "brother" as a sacrifice. Silently, he thanked Dan Heng- or perhaps Dan Feng- for all that he had done for him and his "bride".

This act angered the rest. His temporary family brandished theirs in unison, with Stelle moving to the front. His response greatly saddened March. But Mister Yang? He was frozen. He didn't seem to move an inch. The older man looked deep into his lilac eyes. There must be more he won't let on. 

The past Welt knows is not the past he wants a repeat of.

But unfortunately, history is a vicious cycle— and it repeats itself.

He materialized his haran geppaku futsu, letting Dan Heng's blood drip while its azure glow shine bright. But what shone brighter was the cryogenic "coffin" behind him.

You may have lost your battle with this curse, but you have helped him not lose his. 

You were looking out at a night with a full moon in your last moments. The pitch-black moon seemed to loom life itself. As you strolled alone, every step wet your feet, but there's a persistent sense that you might have been staring at your reflection the entire time despite the void's lack of offerings.

It's always night in Penacony. You have heard that innumerable times. Night never sleeps. The chitchat never stops. The tango doesn't halt. But time stands still for you as the rest of the world rejoices. 

But Penacony was not your resting place. It was the Xianzhou. 

How unfortunate that you forget that in your last moments. Mara has a knack for erasing the memory of its victims. The only solace that your admirer gets is that your previous recollections are of him, of you, and of the bouquet and garter you received. 

At least before you closed your eyes, you thought of him. 

Ayato gazed at your mara-struck face once more.

Beauty is eternal. Despite the chill seeping into your bones, your clothes were nothing short of ethereal. A traditional white wedding dress, floor-length with a fitted bodice and a flowing skirt, would've been given more justice if the wearer was not frozen in time. The laces and beadwork detailing were reminiscent of sakura petals, with a sweetheart neckline and cap sleeves.

You're holding a bouquet of roses mixed with sakura...

Just like you, Kamisato Ayato always had a good eye for aesthetics. 

It's a shame the little life left in his eyes was wilting away.

It's a shame that this wedding never happened.

It's a shame you told him you needed more time to think.

It's a shame you're frozen in time.

However...

As long as a hand still reaches out for him, he'll do anything to grasp it. And Yaoshi has plenty to reach for.

With that, using the blood of the Vidyadhara he had slain, he summoned his new Aeon.

One that he does not particularly believe in. And if he had never placed his blind faith in the Shogun, he doubts he would do the same in Yaoshi.

So, Aeon of Abundance, with the former High Elder's blood on his hands...

Prove him wrong.

"Abundance, heed my pleas,

Repay my anguished cries.

Abundance, stir this bereft peace,

Awaken love from death's disguise."

Bring his soon-to-be Kamisato (Y/n) back to him.

#$ first follower event #yandere gi #yandere kamisato ayato #yandere ayato #yandere ayato x reader #yandere kamisato ayato x reader #ayato x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #hsr #kamisato ayato #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin imagines #yandere genshin x reader #yancore #yanderecore #genshin ayato #genshin impact ayato #nereid's realm

[ghostaholics]

I’m laughing so hard with the enemies with benefits trope, it’s the only thing keeping me sane right now.What if she gets badly hurt during a mission, and ends up unconscious for days, and Ghost stays by her side waiting for her to wake up and when she does, instead of a heartwarming conversation they instantly start to insult each other

The amount of time it took for them to stabilize her had been... long.

Too long.

So long, in fact that they'd had to resuscitate her twice during transport and somewhere in between their (inadequate, by his standards) attempts at life-saving measures and him taking over compressions (he'd bullied his way onto the carrier, of course, much to the displeasure of the rest of the medical flight personnel and was the only one willing to continue even after they'd seriously considered calling the time of death), there was a brief moment where he'd really thought she wasn't going to make it. And for exactly 34 minutes, he'd kept thinking to himself what a goddamn shame it'd be to lose her (not for himself, but for the 1-4-1, the good of the team, obviously). Except then they'd found her pulse again, faint and barely hanging on just under skin, albeit still there – thank-fucking-Jesus – and Simon had finally allowed himself to let out a sigh of breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding the entire time.

It's been about 72 hours since she was initially transferred to the trauma center by helo (or 71 hours and 53 minutes if he wants to get really technical, not that he’s keeping track). This surly, hulking beast of a man managed to fold himself into that tiny hospital chair – has a damn crick in his neck now, stiffness in his muscles from that pathetic excuse of a recliner. And he's had to camp out as a sniper for lengthy intervals before, slept on the ground or up against a fucking tree depending on the situation without complaint, so this should be any different, but he's had to shift positions frequently just to take the edge off because it's bothering him that much; Christ, the things he does for her.

And after waiting all this damn time, he's finally rewarded with some evidence of actual consciousness – the too-thin, threadbare hospital sheets stirring with movement out of the corner of his eye. Simon rises from his seat, completely neglecting his lunch (hadn't even really been able to eat properly until recently, because his appetite was pretty much shite after the whole cardiac arrest thing) and strides over to check on whether or not she's waking up.

She blinks, groggily, eyes adjusting to her surroundings and trying to place where exactly she is before a shadow passes over her line of vision and blocks the annoying fluorescent lights. It’s – oh.

Simon's face comes into view, peering down at her with an expression that she doesn’t quite recognize. This one’s new; she doesn’t have a name for it, but if she were to hazard a guess, it seems an awful lot like concern – or at least his version of whatever that may be. She watches him quietly. Her gaze isn’t as disoriented anymore and she tracks his hand, the way it comes up to cup her jaw, warm palm sliding over her skin in an invitation to lean into his touch.

“Really glad you woke up,” he murmurs, low but still loud enough to be heard over the rhythmic beeping of the bedside monitor. And Simon, being Simon, doesn't forget to add, “There's so many reports I've been waiting for you to sign off on.”

She closes her eyes with a small smile gracing her lips. Her voice is rough from disuse, but the sarcasm behind it is a familiar sound. “Wish I'd been out for longer. Was nice not having you nag my ear off – best damn sleep I've gotten in ages, y'know.”

#you just know that he snuck into her bed for an hour or two to draw her into his chest #but he would literally rather die than admit that #he gently threatened the doctors and nurses not to expose him #and after she wakes up she asks for more blankets #which he refuses to provide #so she tells him to get into bed because he’s a furnace and he’s begrudgingly like fine🙄 bc it’s her idea not his #𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘦𝘴-𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩-𝘣𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘵𝘴!𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 #💌 𝘪𝘯𝘣𝘰𝘹: 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘭 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ #ghost x you #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader

[fredweasleysprostitute]

Like what you see // F.W

Summary: A summer beneath the heat allows you to bask in your pent-up feelings for Fred Weasley. But there's something holding you back. Is it really that wrong to fall for your best friends brother

Universe: Harry Potter

Rating: Mature

Warnings: a few spicy shots of Fred

Blue skies filled the air, clouds were nowhere to be seen. The flowers sought water as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were quick to replenish their soil, and the garden gnomes longed for shade as they huddled beneath a leafy tree. The blazing sun sent everyone into a heat stroke, but it was nothing like the effects of Fred Weasley.

You watched as he launched a quaffle through Ron's hoop, his muscles flexing as he did so. His forehead was lined up in a bead of sweat, while his large hands gripped the broomsticks, his smooth, toned abdomen perfectly glistening beneath the sun. He was quick to tug off his shirt when the game had first begun, leaving nothing to your imagination. It was rather annoying that one look from him was all you needed to send your heart rate sky high. You couldn't help but stare, his quidditch physique body was fucking perfect.

Faint laughter pulled you out from your daze as you finally turned around to find the culprits. Ginny and Hermione were giggling like mad at the sight of you. You felt your face grow warm, not doubting that you were a bright sade of pink.

"Ron's not gonna be real happy, Ginny teased, sipping on her glass of sweet tea.

Hermione began to laugh, "Seriously, y/n his older brother?"

"What in merlins name are you two on about?" You almost winced, you were a terrible liar.

"Don't be daft, y/n you were practically drooling" Ginny chimed, falling into another chim as your face turned blood red. You were positive you looked sunburnt by now.

"What's so funny?" Ron exclaimed, joining the three of you with his broom in his hand. The game was officially over, and the twins were sure to follow.

You sent daggers to Ginny's way.

"Probably your shitty plays," George mused, ruffling Ron's hair until it stood up from all ends. You noticed Hermione's cheeks like she wasn't exactly subtle either.

"I'll race you lot to the showers!" Another voice called out.

You froze right on the spot, your eyes darting everywhere but the sexy man before you. You cleared your throat, trying to return all of your senses back to your body. It was not working.

Ron's eyebrows thread together. He tilted his head to the side, asking you if you were alright. You nodded quickly, prompting him to continue his silent interrogation.

You felt his eyes burning holes into your forehead, praying to Merlin that Ginny would keep her face shut.

"Kids! Time for dinner!" Molly called, beckoning you all inside through the window.

You sucked in a breath when Fred stretched as Fred stretched, beginning to pull his shirt back on over his head. You felt your knees buckle.

Then suddenly, you were speeding through the tall grass, ignoring the confused looks that were bound to take place behind you.

Ron scratched his head as he watched you enter the burrow, growing more confused when his sister toppled over in laughter.

"What the bloody hell is going on?"

You found yourself, sighing finally content under the ruby sheets of Ginny's bed. Her walls were covered in posters, many of which featured the Chudley Cannons and the Holyhead Harpies. You also spotted The Cranberries and other muggle bands that Hermione introduced you too. There wasn't an inch of wall that was left bare.

Chatting with the girls had been going well. They seemed to have forgotten about the events of the afternoon, indulging in their shared bag of sweets while also discussing their plans for the upcoming Quidditch World Cup. But when three readheads had decided to join you, two of which being the identical twins, you felt your heart begin to race once more.

Ron took the seat next to you, slightly offering you one of his chocolate frogs. You took it gratefully, sending him a smile in thanks. You could always rely on your best friend.

Sitting quietly between them all, you kept to yourself as they made conversation. You knew that if you opened your mouth even just an inch all eyes would be on you. After the stunt you pulled, you were sure that you would be bombarded with questions. And you did not have a death wish.

You found your eyes studying Fred, who was animatedly chatting with his brother. As usual, he and George seemed very excited to share about one of their newest joke products. You admired the dips and curves of his features, tracing each one of his freckles with your eyes. His smile caused your heart to flutter, and your lips to curve upward as well.

You jumped slightly when his eyes met yours.

His smile turned into a lazy smirk, that of a child who knows just how much trouble they've caused. He didn't look away, keeping his warm gaze on you as though he was enjoying the effect he had. You would have turned away, but the fear, the fear that was bubbling up in your chest left you panicking in your place. You were although rather glad when George wacked Fred up the side of his head.

"Oi!" Fred groaned, turning to his twin brother. "What was that for you git?"

"Ronald here, was asking you a question," George teased. You didn't miss the suggestive eyebrow wiggle he sent you. He was obviously amused.

Ron repeated his question. "How do you plan on opening the shop?"

"We've got tricks up our sleeves Ronniekins. Don't you even worry about us"

You giggled as Fred ruffled Ron's shaggy hair. Hiding in your blush as you munched on another chocolate frog. But you didn't miss the grin that Fred had sent you.

And unbeknownst to you, neither did Ron.

It had been five days. Five days of just sitting by the pond and admiring his soaking wet hair. Five days of staying up late after bed, just to hear Fred strumming on his guitar from across the hall. Five days of Fred's merciless, taunting, beautiful honey brown gaze.

You thought you would be a goner by now. Practically dropping dead when you caught him exiting the bathroom with nothing but a towel around his waist.

But here you are, still living and breathing. Under the same roof as Fred Weasley.

You leaned your head into your palm, thinking hard before making your move on the chess board before you. You were seated uncomfortably on the living room floor, Ron on the other end while anxiously drumming his fingers against the coffee table.

"Queen to ES" you ordered, smiling proudly when you took out his knight. You looked up to bask in his downfall. But you were surprised, Ron didn't look defeated.

"You okay?" You chuckled, noticing the way he vigorously nodded his head. He, too was a shitty liar.

You sent him a knowing look as he manually moved his piece.

"You can be scary sometimes, did you know that?"

You only smiled, watching curiously as he turned around to examine his surroundings. He must have had a huge secret to tell.

"I know," he began, sending you a faint smirk.

You stared at him blankly, slowly tilting your head.

He rolled his eyes. "I mean, I know, I know about Fred."

Your eyes went wide, causing his smirk to grow. You felt as though your limbs had caught fire.

"Fred? What are you talking about, Ron?" You mumbled, ignoring his eyes as you reached to move your knight. Ron stopped you.

"It's okay," he smiled, casually sliding the game to the end of the table. He leaned forward on his elbows.

"If you think that I'm going to stop you, I won't," he continued, "although, it will always bewilder me that Fred, my brother, the boy who farted on the train in our first year, is the bloke you have chosen," He teased.

You spit out a laugh, thinking back on the found memory. 11 year old you would not believe that "Farting Fredrick" had become the most charming boy in all of Hogwarts. He was remembered as the boy who had vandalized the portraits and locked Filch in broom cupboards. But he was no longer the dork who would snuck bogey flavored beans into your Honeydukes bag and he had you falling hard.

"You know he fancies you too?" Ron chuckled, twirling his wand between his fingers. "I heard with George last night. He wouldn't shut up about you"

Peering out the window with wide eyes, you found a tall ginger sitting out in the yard. And that was all you needed to hear before racing out the door.

You took a deep breath in when you found him, having to remind yourself to stay calm in his presence. His hair was windswept, reminding you of the many times he would race down the corridors of the school. He seemed deep in thought, making the same twisted face that he would often do when he was designing new prank products. You absolutely adored it.

To your surprise, it wasn't very difficult to see Fred in a new light. It was as though you always thought him to be charming and handsome. Maybe these feelings were locked away somewhere. Or maybe you were just too terrified to let them free.

With a shaky breath, you marched over to his spot on the old, creaky bench.

Fred's eyes shot up, smiling when he found you. It was less cheeky then it usually was. You took that as a good sign.

"Why Hi, there," Fred chuckled, craning his head to get a better look at you, you often hid behind your hair, but he was quick to tuck it away. You felt your face heat immediately. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

You felt a nervous laughter bubble in your chest. "You looked a little lonely."

"You sure you didn't just miss me?" Fred teased, shuffling closer to your side. "I am, of course quite the entertainer."

You rolled your eyes, opting to smile into the evening breeze.

"I have a secret." You mumbled, not daring to face him. "But I'll only tell you if you tell me a secret of your own."

You heard Fred laugh from beside you, feeling a sense of relief when he agreed.

If your theory was correct, and you were praying to Merlin that it was, Fred would confess everything that Ron had heard the night before. And it would be the end of the cat and mouse game.

"One," you began, trying to calm your racing heart. It didn't help that he was staring.

"Two," he continued biting back his smile.

"Three!"

"I can't stop thinking about you!"

"I've fancied you since my third year!"

You felt your eyes go wide, your mouth dropping open as your heart hammered against your chest. You weren't sure if you had heard him right. Since his third year?

And that was it for you two. It seemed as though you each seized the moment, pulling the other impossibility close as you closed the gap between you. It was passionate but soft, the way first kisses should be. And it felt good to finally know the feeling of his broad shoulders and large hands.

It was like he was chiselled by Godric himself.

He pulled back slightly, donning a dreamy smile as he mumbled against your lips, "we have an audience."

Your head whipped around, gasping as you found Ron, Ginny, Hermione and George gossiping through the window. You heard Ron scoff, shouting something along the lines of "if you hurt her I will bloody murder you!" Through the glass.

You giggled like a young school girl, turning to have Fred's breath clash with yours. You could finally admire his honey brown eyes from up close.

"Like what you see?" He smiled pressing a kiss to your flushed cheek.

"Don't worry" he chuckled "I do too"

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred wealsey fic #fred weasely x y/n

[fangsandfracturedhearts]

Fangs and Fractured Hearts

Chapter 2: Reunion

Summary: After embracing eternity as a vampire spawn under Astarion's wing, the Crimson Palace becomes a haunting symbol of the man he once was. As his personality unravels into a dark abyss, you flee. A year of hardship unveils the harsh reality of existence as a vampire spawn.

Just as all hope seems lost, a twist of fate reunites you with Astarion, revealing a glimmer of hope amidst the shadows. As you navigate the complexities of your relationship, you must confront the unsettling truth behind the Rite of Profane Ascension and the devilish secrets it holds.

In a race against time, you embark on a daring quest to save Astarion from his descent into darkness. With each choice you make, the stakes grow higher, testing the limits of your courage and determination.

Will Astarion find redemption, or is he destined to succumb to his own inner turmoil?

Word Count: 3.6k

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x female!Tav Spawn

Warnings: Possible spoilers. Eventual Explicit Content. Slow Burn. Thoughts of Suicide. Violence. Blood. Injury. Mature Content.

Instinctively, you descend swiftly into a crouch, your eyes sweeping the shadowed tree line. You can smell them stalking nearby, shrouded by that murky gloom, but your sharpened eyesight can only make out the dark silhouettes of the trees. You scan your surroundings in a practiced manner of calculated calm, taking mental notes of possible hiding places and escape routes.

The toe of your boot grinds slightly back and forth into the ground as you determine your footing. The recent rains and high foot traffic around these small alleyways have left the ground slick with a viscous mud that would make trying to outrun your assailants perilous.

The pungent sickly-sweet scent of powdered iron vine intensifies in measured increments as the Gur hunters advance on your position. The powerful scent makes your eyes water, and you blink rapidly, trying to clear your hazy vision. Your heart drops into your stomach as that familiar rhythmic beating of hearts starts to come into earshot. Squeezing your eyes shut tightly, you listen closely, trying to discern how many hunters are trailing you.

One, two, three, four, five, six… Fuck, there are too many.

Kneeling behind an abandoned overturned wagon, your mind haphazardly flicks through various strategies. Avoiding a head-on assault would surely be the most sensible option. The Gur are highly trained monster hunters, making them a deadly quarry already, but these Gur would likely be fuelled by a rabid desire for vengeance after what occurred in the temple concealed beneath the Szarr Palace after the ritual had been completed.

They are inching closer to you in a practiced, systematic advancement. The increasing resonance of their hearts thundering in their chest gives you an estimate of their looming proximity. Moving slowly, keeping as low to the ground as you can muster, you creep away from your current hiding place, eyeing an angled corner that could provide you with some cover and, if you’re lucky, an escape route. Your boots sink into the gelatinous, muddy earth beneath you, eliciting a dull, squelching sound with every tentative step.

What had Astarion said - roll your foot down starting from the heel 1 joint at a time? How many joints are in a foot?

You scoff inwardly at the memory - Astarion had attempted to teach you his craft but had deemed you hopeless when you couldn’t even manage to improve your footwork after several lessons. In truth, you hadn’t put as much effort into learning as you should have because you found how flustered he would get at your ineptitude both amusing and utterly adorable.

Perhaps I should have taken my lessons more seriously.

Rounding the corner, you see the darkened outline of a hunter already standing at the fork in the path ahead of you. More of them rise from the long golden grass bordering the walkway. You can vaguely hear the slow, muffled footsteps approaching you from behind. It came as no surprise that they would’ve anticipated your movements. Corralling you in this cramped alley had been a well-planned trap, and you walked right into it. The pack of hunters strategically block any potential escape routes with ease as they encircle you, blades drawn and ready.

Fuck.

Your eyes dart frantically, examining your assailants one by one. A roaring tempest of loathing and disgust saturates their crazed eyes. You can virtually taste their acrid hate permeating the air. These people saw you as nothing more than an abhorrent monster to be put down. Their hearts hammer wildly in their chest, battering against their ribs in a morbidly musical cadence.

Settling into a defensive stance, you reach out to the weave, letting the well-known, comforting presence spread through every fibre of your being until you’re overflowing with it. The palm of your hand warms slightly as you prepare to cast. Spells hurtle through your memory as you struggle to settle on an appropriate one. 

“Impero tibi.”

You cast sleep on one of the Gur stalking in the tall yellowing grass, successfully incapacitating them, giving yourself an opening. The hunters attack in response, hurtling themselves towards you. 

Speaking the invocation for Misty Step, you dematerialize into a silvery fog just as a hunter thrusts the biting sharp edge of his sword towards you. Reappearing on the roof of a nearby home, you take some of the hunters by surprise. Casting recklessly, you manage to incapacitate several of them before they can recover. You take care not to kill even though it imposes risky limits on your ability to defend yourself. These people are just more innocent victims of Cazador and your misguided attempt to help Astarion reclaim the safety and happiness that was stolen from him centuries ago. You have damned an unfathomable number of souls to an eternity of suffering, including the Gur’s children, and you’re not keen to add additional blood to the sanguine sea you are already floundering in.

No more unnecessary bloodshed.

A hunter leaps onto the roof and swings his blade with a howling scream tearing from his throat. Throwing your body to the side, you manage to avoid most of the blow, but the cool, steel tip cuts into your snowy skin, slicing a shallow gash diagonally across your chest. The tangy metallic smell of blood infuses the air. It would be a pleasant aroma if it were not the scent of your blood saturating the breeze. Snarling with your fangs bared, you leap to the roof of the neighbouring small shack, hoping to get a little distance from your pursuer and the remaining hunters.

As soon as your boots thud on the wood shingles of the roof, you know you’re in trouble. The shingles are rotten and loose from years of exposure to the elements and neglect. They slide under your feet, throwing you off-kilter to your knees. You claw at the rotting wood, fingers trying to find purchase to stop your descent, but there is nothing to hold onto. You’re hurtled off the side of the roof to the slick, boggy ground in a heap.

The hunters drag you to your feet aggressively, thrusting your back up against the wood wall of that long-abandoned shack. The deteriorating timber whines under the pressure. The razor-sharp contoured steel of a dagger’s edge presses against your neck firmly. A scroll flashes and dissolves in the dim light cast by the low-hanging crescent moon, and a profound sense of fear mauls you savagely. Bolstering your resolve, you try to cling onto the weave, but it retreats and dissipates, rendering you unable to cast. The putrid tang of powdered iron vine and sweat makes your eyes sting, and your stomach twists in a violent upheaval.

Did they bathe in the stuff? Good Gods.  

“Where is your master?”  

My what? Oh…   

“I don’t know.” They will never believe you, but what did it matter? They will kill you regardless. 

Would I tell them even if I did know?

“Where is he hiding spawn!?” the hunter shouts furiously, spittle flying from his lips.

Spawn. This is what the “hero” of Baldur’s Gate has been reduced to.

Struggling, you try to shove them away, but their grip on you only intensifies. You recognize the faint hint of a Giant’s Strength potion lingering on their tepid breath. Attempting to escape their vice-like grip would be a useless endeavour. They’d known what they were hunting and came well-prepared. You shouldn't have expected any less.

Baring your fangs in frustration, you shout, “Did I stutter? I said I don’t fucking know!”

How long had the Gur been tracking you in the hope you’d lead them back to him, and why couldn’t they locate him without you? The last weeks you had spent with him, he’d scarcely been trying to conceal his identity, and a man like that hardly blends into a crowd. He turned heads everywhere he went. His very presence intrinsically commands attention.

Maybe he left Baldur’s Gate?

The mere thought makes your soul croon a forlorn, melancholic melody.

“Kill her. She either can’t or won’t give him up. She’s useless to us.”

The hunter nods their agreement with a ghoulish smile and unholsters the stake at their hip. An odd sense of relief floods through you at the prospect of your own demise; no more fear, no more pain, no more hunger. It sounds… peaceful. Your eyelashes flutter as you close your eyes in acquiescence, and ready yourself for the final blow.

You faintly hear the soft whispering hiss of a blade being drawn. One of the Gur holding you lets out a loud yelp, and their fingernails claw painfully at your skin as their hand is ripped from your arm.

“What was that?” the hunter shouts with ragged, trembling breath at their compatriot.

“I don’t know! I didn’t see any-” their voice halts abruptly, trailing off too little more than a hushed murmur vanishing into the gloomy twilight.

You squirm, trying to shake yourself free, tugging desperately at the arm squeezing you against the wall. Panicked, the remaining hunter plunges the stake towards you hastily. Their eyes bulge from their sockets and dart in all directions frenzied. As the stake draws nearer, your eyes reflexively squeeze shut.

A fitting end to my sad story, if nothing else.

A delicate gust of air hits your face, and your body is jerked forward as the force driving you into the wall is ripped away. You stagger slightly, and your arms swing out as you strive to regain your balance.

What in the Hells?

Your eyes snap open with surprise. Silvery rays of moonlight bounce handsomely off his alabaster skin, highlighting the chiselled planes of his face. A gentle breeze stirs and carries an all-too-familiar fragrance. Astarion heaves the hunter off their feet, suspending them in the air by their neck. They kick and flail desperately, trying to wriggle free from his grip. Guttural, rasping gurgles escape the hunter’s throat as their life is slowly squeezed out of them.

"Please, don't!"

Heart-stopping, deep crimson eyes flash in the chalky luminescence meeting yours. Gods, he’s even more beautiful than you remember. He sneers at you momentarily before closing his eyes and cocking his head sideways, grimacing as if what he’s about to do pains him physically. In a fluid, seemingly effortless motion, Astarion hurls the Gur into the wall with a resounding thud. The hunter falls in a motionless heap, unconscious but alive.

You can finally breathe a sigh of relief, but it’s short-lived. Blinding, searing pain radiates from your abdomen, causing muddled black orbs to flicker and dance in your vision. Looking down, the stake juts ominously out of your side. The hunter didn’t hit their target, but they hadn't missed entirely either. Your chest tightens as a rising panic grips you. Without thinking, you pull the stake free in a swift motion. It departs from your body with a sickening squelch, leaving a gaping wound in your side. Sticky blood starts to form a pool around your feet. The stake tumbles to the ground, falling out of your trembling grip.

Pressing your hand to your side, you glance up and meet Astarion’s gaze as your vision starts to tunnel.

“… Astarion?”

A nauseating dizziness seizes you, and your knees weaken. The last things you perceive are arms wrapping around you and your name ringing sweetly from his lips before you black out.  

Awareness fades in and out as you start to regain consciousness. Your eyelashes flutter, and you strain to pry your eyes open. They feel heavy and part open sluggishly. Your surroundings are just an obscure blur as your eyesight twists and undulates in rhythm with the pounding in your head.

Where am I? What in the Nine Hells happened?

Focus… I need to focus.

A nauseating drumming rasp thrums between your ears making efforts to concentrate painstakingly difficult. Vague snippets of memories start to form and clasp together piece by piece as you try to recall the last things you can remember.

Shadowheart.

The forest.

Hunger, all consuming, insatiable hunger.

The sickly-sweet scent of powdered iron vine.   

The Gur.

Dismay floods through you, and you leap out of a large four-poster bed. Agony radiates from your side and seers unforgivingly, igniting every nerve. Your legs fail and give way, knees colliding with the chilled floor. Trembling, you grit your teeth to stop yourself from crying out. As the harsh stabbing pain subsides, your sight begins to clear, and the chamber comes into focus bit by bit.

No... No, it can’t be...

A handful of variously sized candles illuminate the darkened space. The prodigious room is elaborately decorated in luxurious adornments but is otherwise empty except for you. Despite the additional ostentatious furnishings, you would recognize this place anywhere.

The Crimson Palace.

Pushing yourself up off the floor requires more effort than you would like to admit and leaves you feeling lightheaded. Chilly air caresses your skin, and you realize you’re in your undergarments with bandages wrapped snuggly around your chest and side. A hot flush of embarrassment explodes in your gut, rising upward like a rogue wave. If your skin could redden, you have no doubt you’d be as red as Karlach. Scanning the room, you see a clean robe has been neatly laid out, and you slip it on, thankful for the coverage. The floorboards creak beneath your feet as you pathetically try to sneak toward the closed door. 

I really should have been a better student.

The door hinges whimper as you carefully ease the bedroom door open. Peeking out from the small crack, you’re grateful to find the adjoining hallway is devoid of any sentient life. You tiptoe forward as softly as you can muster, but the ever-present faintness caresses the edges of your consciousness, making your gait unsteady. Tottering on your feet, the faded wooden floor whines mockingly at you.

Voices slowly come into earshot as you approach the end of the hallway. They start as a distorted mutter but become distinct as you inch further toward them. Instinct howls at you to run, but you would recognize that voice anywhere.

Shadowheart.

“She’s coming with me!” Shadowheart bristles. Her voice rings with a tangible agitation.

Astarion’s voice is a velvety dulcet in comparison, “Don't be foolish. She’s not safe with you, nor you with her.”

Shadowheart crosses her arms and shakes her head sneering in disbelief, “Are you seriously asking me to just… just leave her here with the likes of you?! Did the ritual rob you of your intelligence as well as your soul, Astarion?”

“Come now,” his words are soft, wrapped up in that beguiling tone you know so well, “don’t play stupid, my dear. It doesn’t suit you. The Gur will stop at nothing to capture and kill her. She’s not safe with you any longer. Surely, you want what’s best for her, don’t you? I can keep her safe."

Shadowheart snorts exasperatedly, “That’s rich, coming from you.”

His poise falters, and he slams his fist onto a large desk with an echoing bang, “She had a choice!” he snaps back defensively.

“Tell yourself whatever lies you wish, Astarion. It doesn’t change the facts.”

“Do shine your divine illumination on these “facts” for me.”

Her eyebrow cocks up contentiously, “Now who’s playing stupid?”

"She stays!” he growls deeply.

Shadowheart's hands move to her hips, and she widens her stance in a bold show of defiance, “Over my dead body.”

“Well…” his fingers come up to his chin thoughtfully, “That can certainly be arranged.” a sly smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

They’re so engrossed in their squabbling that they don’t notice you standing in the study’s wide archway observing them.

It’s hard to believe we were all friends once.

“Will you two give it a rest? Good Gods!”

Startled, their heads snap towards you in unison. Shadowheart’s eyes flood with relief at the sight of you. She hurries over and wraps her arms around you in a gentle hug. Your thoughts swirl with the temptation to bite her. Your body goes uncomfortably rigid, and you clench your fists, digging your nails deep into your palms as you fight your appalling desire to sink your fangs into her neck.

I won’t do it. I won’t!

Shadowheart quickly notices your discomfort and releases you, slowly backing away with her hands held up, “I’m sorry. I forget myself.”   

You give her a tight smile, “It’s okay.”

“You’re bleeding all over my new rug,” Astarion interjects bluntly and a bit aloof, pursing his lips, “again.”

“What?”

His eyes fall to your midsection. Following his gaze, you see a wet maroon stain blossoming on the front of your robe. Blood drips onto the rug from the hem swaying loosely around your ankles. Your wound must have reopened when you jumped out of bed in your panic.

Shadowheart rummages through her bag and tosses you a healing potion, “Your wounds were too dire for me to heal completely, I’m afraid.”

Drinking the potion makes you cringe as you swallow the syrupy liquid. Healing potions, really just potions in general, had never been particularly appealing, but since being turned into a spawn, everything took on the flavour and texture of ash. Except for blood, of course.

“How did you find me?”

She casts a glance back at Astarion who is standing there casually, arms crossed, looking beyond bored. Your bewilderment must be apparent.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised, darling. I am more than capable of seeking out assistance when I choose. I am many things, but a healer is not one of them.”

Shadowheart shakes her head and rolls her eyes, “I was as surprised as you are when he showed up. I very nearly plunged a stake through his ribs right then and there.”

“You would have died in the attempt,” he says nonchalantly with a dark, malicious smile.

Blazing with the red-hot fury of the Hells, she veritably flays him with her eyes. He snickers his delight fiendishly, a wry smile widening across his face. He always did thorough enjoy the way he could get under her skin.

Despite her customary zealous demeanour, you can see the exhaustion in Shadowheart’s face; dark, puffy bags forming under her eyes. It’s readily apparent she’s been up all night tending to you, and knowing them, arguing with him.

“You look exhausted, Shadowheart. You should go home and rest.”

Her brows draw down in a slight furrow, and her jaw clenches as she glances between you and Astarion apprehensively. It’s obvious she’s scared to leave you alone with him. 

I’m scared too.

Trying to conceal the fear, you plaster on the most soothing smile you can muster, "I'll be right behind you.” 

If he allows me to leave…

She sighs, “Fine, but I expect to see you later, and if I don’t...” she trails off, turning to Astarion, “I’ll kill you, Astarion, even if it’s the last thing I do.” 

He smirks, entertained by her threats and bows shallowly, “It was lovely seeing you again, flower.”

With a final exasperated grumble, Shadowheart stalks down the hall and disappears, leaving you alone with Astarion, who is eyeing you with a hawkish intensity. You shuffle your feet uncomfortably under his probing glare.   

He is truly a sight to behold. Yellow candlelight flits and flickers in the deep scarlet hue of his irises. He holds himself with an elegant confidence that commands attention. It’s no wonder so many unfortunate souls met their grim fate after making the mistake of falling for him, enthralled by his masterfully executed masquerade.  

Just as I did. 

Even now, although your fear runs like drifting ice through your veins, you find his presence oddly comforting. You desire nothing more than to run to him and be wrapped up in his strong arms to spend eternity safe in his cool embrace. How many nights alone did you spend silently crying missing him? 

This isn’t my Astarion – not anymore. 

A mournful sign escapes your lips as you swallow the lump in your throat and blink away the tears welling up in your eyes.      “Positively elated to see me, I see.” Astarion purrs deeply as he takes a step closer to you.  

You take a step back, wanting to preserve the distance between you and him. It’s an odd feeling, wanting to run from him and to him simultaneously. Astarion raises his hands in a gesture feigning innocence, ceasing his advance. A pained expression is momentarily adorned on his face, but it’s so fleeting you wonder if it was ever even there or if you had just imagined it.  

“Why?” your voice comes out in a barely audible, timid whisper.

His brows knit together in confusion, “You’re going to have to be more specific. Why what?”

“Why save me?”   

Astarion leans forward slightly, "Would you have preferred the alternative, darling? Should I have just let those vile Gur put you down?”

“Yes,” you say bleakly.  

There had been a serene kind of peace, knowing the end of this ordeal was coming. It would have been a merciful reprieve from this nightmare you were trapped in. His eyes widen in surprise, a wave of shock sweeps over his features, disquieted by your brutal honesty. Astarion straightens, and he stands there staring at you apprehensively as if unsure how to respond. An array of almost imperceptible emotions flit across his face in rapid succession, but there’s no way to discern what they are with any degree of accuracy. He shakes his head bringing himself out of his thoughts. His eyes narrow, and that cold stone mask he wears slips securely back into place.  

“You die when I let you.”

Master List of Chapters: Fangs and Fractured Hearts

If you're interested I write another fic with Spawn Astarion x Tav called - Shadows of the Past

AO3 [Crossposted]

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 #astarion fanfic #ascended astarion

[cecewarlock]

Okay so this are pretty disjointed thoughts. I'll probably rewrite once I've calmed the fuck down but I've just watched TBOSAS and I need to talk about it

1- The hanging tree is about a man who is accused of three murders and when he is about to be hanged he asks for his lover to run away

Now in the Hunger games trilogy the song is a call to desperate action. A call for love and hope and freedom with the knowledge it might all end in death

But in TBOSAS it takes a whole different meaning, more especially in what I believe to be Snow's two most important relationships: Lucy Gray and Sejanus.

Unlike the man in the song, Snow has in fact killed three people one of them being Sejanus and unlike the man in the song who chooses his love over his own life. Snow does the opposite. He tells Lucy Gray to run during the games but once she is no longer caged, once she becomes the one thing he believes will cost him his life he chooses to attack. He truly is living embodiment of dr Gaul's philosophy. He is a victor.

2- Many people have already pointed out the Katniss/Snow Peeta/Lucy Gray parallels but I cannot stop thinking about Plutarch/Sejanus.

3- Everything about Tigris makes my heart break.

4-"Snow lands on top" is such a cunty ass line. Say what you will about Snow but he ate with that one. Cannot wait to see it used inappropriately in a fanfic

5- Snow having two scars on his back. One from when he saved Sejanus and one from when Lucy Gray saved him. I need to be sedated.

6- Ceasar being a nepo baby lol

7- "You are as pure as the driven snow" seriously somebody sedate me.

8-the rainbow on the statue's dress at the end. Lucy Gray you will forever live rent free in Snow's mind.

9- Sejanus's last words being "Ma" something he got teased for at the beginning.

10- Everything about Reaper putting the flag over the fallen tributes. And his bravery in the face of death. And his kindness.

11-I normally scoff at prequels that lean too hard on the main story and while I definitely think that TBOSAS suffers from it from time to time I do believe it works because it serves a purpose. It recontextualizes what we know about Snow.

He is a haunted man. The revolution in the hunger games is personal to him. Beyond politics and money. It is Lucy Gray's songs, stronger and lauder than ever, accompanied by the drum of Sejanus ideals. It's payback. They have taken his power.

12- Do you hear that? It's the sound of Snow, falling.

13- In conclusion: If Suzanne Collins has no fans left know that I am dead.

#the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #coriolanus snow #lucy gray baird #sejanus plinth #reaper #ramblings

[joshsjipple]

Hate Me

DANNY WAGNER X FEM READER

A/N: I definitely had no plans to post this soon, but a good friend of mine had this request and I had to feed her lmao. this is so unedited I apologize in advance!

Word Count: 4.1k

WARNINGS: 18+ mature sexual content, unprotected sex (don’t be dumb), p in v, language, spitting, hate sex, rough, choking, spanking, praise kink, heavy degradation, hate kink, dom (m) sub (f), enemies to lovers?, dannys a bitch sorry not sorry. lmk if i missed anything!

•••••

Your tan legs stretch across the tanning chair as you sprawl completely out. The sun’s just going down, a beautiful ray of oranges and yellows taking its place in the sky. You have a drink in your hand, a fancy little colored umbrella poking out the side of it. Just as your mind finally begins to retreat into it’s humble abyss, a deep familiar voice echos from behind you.

“I told you, it will all make sense when we get back and are able to properly record it,” Danny says in a convincing voice to his friend.

“Yeah, whatever you say,” the boy replies as his eyes find you. “So that’s where you snuck off to,”

“Yep, you found me. Great,” you sigh, pushing off the palms of your hands so you’re sitting.

“Oh, come on. The only reason you’re here is for our gig,” Sam smirks, sitting where your legs were once rested.

“I know that. I was just hoping for a moment of peace and quiet,” you say, cocking your head and letting your eyes briefly flick to Danny’s.

He scoffs in response, running his long fingers through his wiry hair.

Sam catches your drift and clucks his tongue. “Seriously?” You don’t offer him an answer which leads him to continue speaking. “Whatever, you too. The sexual tension is through the roof.”

You and Danny both crinkle your nose in unison, making dramatic puking noises as Sam rolls his eyes.

“Yeah right,” you say as you fold your arms over your chest and glare up at Danny. “I wouldn’t fuck him if he was the last man on earth.”

“Which is really saying something as she fucks anything with a dick,” he fires back.

You open your mouth to reply but Sam’s hand grips your knee. “Okay, that’s enough.”

You notice Danny’s eyes burn a hole through Sam’s hand that’s confidently placed on your thigh. He catches you staring at him and blinks a few times before turning his head. The look on his face has you confused as Sam speaks up once more.

“I’m going to get some beers,” he announces, patting your legs twice before leaving his seat.

You cross your legs as he walks away, leaving you and the curly-headed man alone. Danny stays silent, not even offering casual conversation. You can’t remember a time in your life when he had been nice to you without gaining something in return. Then again, you can’t remember a time you had been either.

You take this moment of silence and his distracted state to admire him. He was attractive, you weren’t going to deny him that. His frame was tall, reaching comfortably over 6 feet. With legs attracting the sun, they’re a deep brown, a tan you could only imagine having in your dreams. His arms are exposed, peeking out of a poorly cut t-shirt. The lack of sunlight casts shadows across his collarbones, making them deep and contrasted like a painting. Perfectly curly hair drapes over his shoulders like the roots of trees. Danny has always had a prominent nose, one of the many things that makes him so attractive as he is. He looks good, a little too good.

You nearly choke on air as your eyes meet his face to find him staring back at you. He has a stern expression planted on his face, making your blood turn cold. His dark eyes pierce your soul and his lips part so he can speak. He shuts it quickly, hearing the back door of the Airbnb slam. Sam reaches your line of sight within seconds, saving you from whatever conversation Danny was about to have with you.

“I thought I’d come back here to one of you strangling the other. In one context or another,” he chuckles.

“Sam, shut the fuck up.” You hiss, your palm hitting his chest. “It will never happen,”

“And why’s that?” Danny replies without missing a beat, tilting his head.

You’re taken back by his words but do your best to not show. “Because you conceded and spoiled.”

“And you’re a bitch.”

Sam gasps quietly but doesn’t intervene.

Shamefully, his words don’t upset you. They don’t make your eyes water or your heart burn. Instead, they make your body hot to the point you must cross your legs. Danny doesn’t let this little adjustment go unnoticed.

“You’re such an asshole, you know that? I never did anything to you, ever! Are you just so fucking miserable you have to take it out on everyone around you?” you raise your voice, blood boiling up and out of your ears.

“Just you, sweetheart.” He replies in victory.

“Okay,” Sam interrupts. “I’ve had enough. You two are so fucking immature I can’t take it any longer. I’m going to the bar while you two sort whatever this is, out. Maybe grow up a bit while you’re at it.”

You can’t help but stare with your jaw agape as he storms off, once again, leaving you and Danny alone. The both of you say nothing as Sam angrily leaves your line of sight. You want to feel bad for the whole situation and you probably will tomorrow, but for now, you feel nothing but anger. You’ll be damned if you let Daniel ruin your vacation like he ruins everything else so you return to your relaxed position on your back.

You feel his eyes in you as you tuck your arms behind your head as a pillow. Goosebumps line your skin but you convince yourself it’s from the sun disappearing next to you. Your eyes shut and you let out a deep breath, trying to forget he’s even there.

“Really?” He says in an offended tone.

You offer no response.

Footsteps pad across the cement and when you’re almost sure he has left, your chair dips down. Your eyes shoot open, surprised to find a very upset Danny in front of you. Sitting up, you tuck your legs closer to your chest so you’re not touching him. For some reason you’re convinced if you felt his skin you’d be unable to contain yourself.

“Really?” You repeat in a mocking tone. “Can you go? I’m trying to relax—”

“The sun has set,”

With a scoff you brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “Thanks, Sherlock. Couldn’t tell. Next time, mind telling me when—”

“Oh fuck you!” He shouts, cheeks turning red. You expect him to stand and storm off as he usually does but he stands his ground, challenging you.

“You wish,” you smirk although the line is cliche.

Danny bites down on his lip, brown eyes rapidly searching your face. His eyebrows are furrowed in a way you’ve never seen before. You can tell he’s thinking of something—probably the same thing you are. Afraid of rejection, you admit nothing and instead stay silent.

“Something tells me you’d like that,” he says quietly but firmly. Out of the years you’ve known Danny, you’ve never known this side.

Fireworks cascade over your knee as Danny’s hand meets it. His eyes are challenging and filled with so much emotion you wish you could decipher. His large hand engulfs your knee, fingertips working soft circles into the area making you suck in a sharp breath.

But you haven’t given up yet. You’d be damned if Danny had this under his belt. “Like you could,”

A wave of disbelief washes over his face. His lips curl into a smirk so quickly if you blinked you would have missed it. You squeeze your legs as his top row of teeth latch onto his bottom lip. His hand, still resting on your knee, gets stuck between your other leg. Without breaking eye contact he pulls the one closer to him, spreading your legs wider for him.

“You’re a whore. You know that, right?” His words take you by surprise. Not the words exactly, more of the tone. It’s laced with something other than anger; sex. It makes your core begin to weep and your breathing to go uneasy. After a few seconds you open your mouth to speak but nothing more than a squeak rolls off your lips. “Don’t try to deny it. Look at you; pathetic.”

His eyes leave yours, giving you an opportunity to let out the breath you didn’t know you held in. Danny’s other hand grips your thigh, spreading you open ever wider. The action, so possessive and eager, makes you whine quietly. His eyes meet yours as he asks for permission before pulling your swimsuit bottoms to the side.

“Fuck,” he hisses as he gawks at your cunt. “So pretty.”

“Danny—”

“Shut up. I’m fucking sick of your voice,” he spits, not even bothering to glance at you. He drags the tip of his finger through your folds, gathering your slick on his digit. His chest heaves in anticipation as he admires the wetness he has collected on his finger. “Jesus, opening your legs for the nearest guy with a penis, huh? I bet your parents are really proud.”

His words strike a chord, making you snap out of whatever spell he put you under. In one swift motion, you close your legs and pull away from him. You flare your nostrils as his alluring eyes find yours once more.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” You growl.

“The guy who has you dripping in your pants right now, sweetheart.”

“Fuck you, Danny. Fuck you.”

Angrily, you push yourself off the chair and to your feet. Quickly, you adjust your pants, thoughts racing through your mind. You can’t believe you let him do that to you. Danny, of all people. As you begin to stomp away, his hand wraps firmly around your wrist, tugging you back to him. He’s standing on his feet as you fall against his chest. The hand that’s not holding your wrist captive snakes around your neck. He doesn’t squeeze, but he applies the smallest amount of pressure. He licks his lips as his hungry eyes devour yours. You’ve never been more angry and turned on in your life. The pit in your stomach begs for him with such desire you know you can’t hold out for much longer.

“You’re trouble,” he purrs, his thumb rubbing over the skin of your neck. “Gonna fuck it out of you.”

Snarling, you shoot back. “You think?”

His hand on your neck grips tighter, taking your breath away in the best way possible. “I am. You think you’re smart, don’t you? I’ve got you wrapped around my finger, princess.”

It takes every ounce of dignity in you to not grab him by his hair and pull him into your lips. He’s so close, his warm breath fanning out over your face. He smells like alcohol and the beach, making your knees tremble.

“Wrap me around something else,” you suggest, giving him the sweetest eyes you can throw together. “Unless your dick’s too small. Then I understand,”

By the time you’ve taken your next breath, Danny has you hauled over his shoulder. He’s marching towards the front door, a hand on your back while the other sits on your ass. He sets you down after you’ve entered the house, your lips immediately crashing together in a heated kiss. You whine into him, his tongue poking at your lips, asking for permission. You grant him access by wrapping your hands in his curly locks and pulling him into a deeper kiss.

Danny shuffles so you’re pressed against the abnormally large kitchen island. His hands begin to explore your exposed skin. He pinches at the skin on your stomach before doing the same to your thighs, each action making you soak through your panties even farther. His hands eventually find your bikini strap, untying it quickly and dropping it to the floor. He doesn’t break the kiss but uses his hands to investigate the newly acquainted area. An animalistic moan transfers from your throat to Danny’s as he begins to work over your hard nipple. He swallows your sounds, granting you with a few deep moans of his own.

His lips abandon yours and he kisses a trail down your neck, stopping at the spot below your ear that makes you whine. With hands tucked away in his hair, you pull him closer to your body, slanting your neck to give him a better angle. He doesn’t take this action lightly. His warm hot tongue moves across your neck, making you arch your back into him. His teeth tug and suck on the skin. You’re sure you’ll be covered in love bites and hickeys by morning which will provide proof this actually happened and you weren’t just dreaming.

“Danny…” you can’t help but whine.

“I said don’t fucking speak,” he says, lips suctioning around a nipple.

“Please…” you beg once he’s taken care of the other rock-hard peak as well.

“You’re so spoiled. Can’t even be fucking patient for her dick.” He complains, standing to his feet to finally admire you. “Mm baby, you’re a goddess. Go to my room.”

You don’t protest. Turning on your heels, you trot off to his room, not before his hand smacks your ass. You chirp at the slight sting, your stomach twisting with knots.

You undress yourself and sit on the bed. Danny doesn’t keep you waiting for long. Before you know it he’s standing in front of you, his erection bluffing through his skimpy little tight shorts. You can’t help but drool, forgetting every little thing he’s ever done to make you hate him.

“Look at you.” He says. “No, I’m serious. Look at you.” His hand grabs a fistful of your hair, dragging you to the corner of his room where an expensive vanity sits.

You already look a mess. Your hair is darting every which way, making you appear trashy and careless. The skin on your neck is already marked up from Danny’s sharp teeth and determined lips. Your tits around and you can faintly see his saliva still covering your nipples. They’re pink and plump and point in the air like diamond heads. You do look like a whore.

“Open your mouth,” he says.

“Open yours.”

Pain shoots through your scalp as Danny tugs you off the vanity. You’re now pressed against his stomach, neck craned to stare up at him. The grip on your hair is deadly and he uses it to his advantage.

“Open your fucking mouth.” He demands, anger and sex dripping in his tone.

Reluctantly you open, revealing your tongue for his pleasure. He wastes no time, spitting right on the muscle. His face clenches and you feel him twitch in his shorts.

“Swallow for me, baby.”

He watches you like a movie, not blinking in fear of missing any part of it. You swallow his spit, earning a small whimper from Danny. The sound excites you. Nothing has ever sounded so beautiful, so addicting. You need to hear it again.

“I hate you,” you declare, mouth still open incase he wants to spit on you again.

“Say it again.”

He shoves you to your knees before removing his hand from your head. His fingers work rapidly to undo his shorts. Within seconds his shorts are ditched somewhere in the room which leaves him in only his boxers. The outline of his cock pressing against the thin material has you dripping down your thighs.

Softly, you press your lips to the tip of him. A wet spot appears where he strains against his pants. You get the slightest taste of his precum in your mouth which makes you pull his underwear all the way down. Not expecting it, Danny gasps as his cock springs in the air. It bobs in front of you impatiently.

“Suck it,” he smirks, taking himself in his hand and directing his tip into your mouth. You wrap your lips around him without another thought. “So eager to please. Just how I like it,”

Normally that comment would get him a clean smack across the face, but the context, the voice, the rasp, the slight voice crack of pure pleasure makes you clench your thighs. Danny glides himself down your throat until he reaches the back of your throat. You fight back the burning gag rising in your throat as tears prick in the corner of your eyes. You hollow your throat and allow him to fuck himself into your mouth however he pleases. He’s large and throbbing in your mouth, both the best and worst feeling you’ve ever had. Your chest burns as you heave, focusing your mind on your breathing rather than his cock relentlessly feeding down your throat.

“Good girl. That’s my good girl, yeah. Taking my cock down her throat. Fuck.” He praises, neck thrown back, eyes screwed shut.

He removes himself after a few seconds, pumping his shaft a few more times before dropping it completely. He yanks you up off the floor, hands wrapped around your body to keep you steady. He tosses you on the bed and you land on your back with your legs sprawled open. Danny is on his knees before you have time to process what has just happened.

The feeling of his scalding tongue parting your lips has your hands gripping the sheets beside you. You squirm, legs flinching to wrap around his head. Danny shakes his head, his tongue still buried in you. He places his hands on the insides of your thighs, pinning them down under his strong arms as he takes what he wants from you. He uses his tongue to thoroughly explore you, learning what makes you zig and zag. His eyes stare into your soul, mentally noting which flick made you react the most. He craves your cum, and he’s going to get it if it’s the last thing he ever gets.

When a hand once on your thigh begins to poke at your entrance, the fierce ball in your stomach rises in temperature. With knuckles white as you grip the sheets, tears spill down your cheeks. You buck into his face, desperately trying to chase your high. Danny gives you some leverage to do just that, enjoying the feeling of you using him to get yourself off. Whines fill the room along with the animalistic groans Danny is releasing as you begin to cum across his face. He chuckles in victory, the insane vibrations fueling your release.

You cry his name and tug on his hair, an act he seems to enjoy deeply. Your mind is blank as you ride out your high, nothing coming from your lips but profanities and Danny’s name. Your legs shake as you come out of your trance. He’s still lapping up your release, greedily swallowing every last viciously wet droplet he can find.

“Oh my god,” you finally speak after another minute, your brain fried. “Who knew that mouth did more than talk shit.”

“Yours too,” he quips. For the first time he jokes with you, not at you. “I want you on your stomach.”

Hesitantly you do as he says, propping yourself up on your hands and knees. Danny leans over your body, his chest pressed against your back. His hands drag up and down your sides as he kisses across your shoulder blades. His nose trails a line down your spine as his hands grip onto your ass. He kisses along the fat of your ass cheeks before settling between your legs once more. A finger pokes at your hole making you choke on air.

“So pink and wet. Gonna fuck this so good you really are going to hate me.”

“Don’t sweat it. I already do.” You reply as he circled his tip through your dripping arousal. “Oh Jesus fuck,” you cry as he slides himself inside of you. The stretch burns in the most delicious way. You feel the excessive anguish all the way until he reaches the hilt. “Danny… oh my god.”

“Oh yeah?” He says. You can practically see the stupid smirk on his face. “You like that, baby?”

“Mhm,” you admit as he begins to rock himself into you.

“Then I’m not doing it right,” he states.

Your pussy stings as he pulls himself out of you and quickly thrusts back into you. His hips smack against your ass as he continues to brutally fuck your cunt. The tip of him repeatedly slams into your cervix, making your whole body go into shock. The tormenting action has your face shoved into the pillow, desperate to keep yourself quiet.

“Danny!” You scream as his palm smacks your ass.

“Atta girl. Taking me so good, aren’t you?”

“So good,” you reply, mind on another plant.

Danny’s hand wraps around your throat, pulling you vertically so your warm bodies are pressed together. He uses a hand to brush your hair off your neck, making room for his head to bury itself in the crook of it. His lips wrap around the skin, biting and tugging on it as he did earlier. A hand grabs one of your boobs and he begins to knead the sensitive skin. You relish in the feeling of him palatable driving into you, reaching each and every angle with ease. When his fingers find your clit, your body jolts. He works aggressive circles into the bundle of nerves which has you withering in his arms.

“Gonna cum again?” He says in a mocking voice. “Do it on my cock. Be my whore baby,”

His words send you flying over the edge, ecstasy taking over your body. You’re panting, taking everything he has to give you and still wanting more. Stars explode in your eyelids, violently guiding you through the best orgasm of your life.

When you come down, Danny removes his arms from your frame. You flop on your stomach like a dead fish drained of every last bit of energy. Unable to move yourself, Danny flips you onto your back. He tosses your legs around his waist, settling between your thighs once more. He plays with your swollen clit, tapping the head of his cock on the nerve and watching you tremble. You whine and squirm but not enough to do anything.

“Ready for it, princess?”

Before you can answer he’s sliding back into you. The sound of his thick cock entering your spewing cunt is music to your ears. He feels like heaven; the best thing to ever happen to you. His hips hastily snap into you as he plants both arms on either side of your head, giving himself the perfect angle to watch you. With hooded eyelids, you watch his mouth fall open. His eyes roll in the back of his head as he whimpers. You capture his mouth in yours, swallowing the sweet sounds he is releasing from your pussy clenching around him. His thrusts become less purposeful and more desperate. He grunts and groans with his eyes closed.

“Tell me you hate me,” he begs.

“I hate you, Danny. Fuck. I hate you! I hate you! I’m cumming!” You scream.

“So tight, love. Such a good slut, letting me use her as a fuck toy. Fuck.” He pulls out as you come down from your high. “Gonna cum on this pretty pussy. My pretty pussy,” he declares, his fist moving up and down his length with purpose. “Who’s pussy is this? Say it.”

“It’s yours, Daniel. Please, give me it.”

With your command he begins to shoot his ropes of cum across your pussy and onto your stomach. He whines and bucks into his hand, head snapping from side to side with eyes screwed shut. He whimpers your name as he paints your body white with his orgasm.

Danny falls onto your chest, both of you panting in unison. After a minute or so he rolls off of you. Your body aches as you move to rest your head on his chest. His arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you farther into his embrace. Your own arm loosley wraps around his waist, connecting your hips. Your legs tangle with his like a missing puzzle piece and a small smile creeps on your face.

“I don’t hate you,” Danny admits after a while. You’re nearly half asleep on his chest, fingers toying with his happy trail. “I never have.”

“I don’t hate you either. I guess Sam was right.”

“Ew, don’t tell him that. It’ll go straight to his head,” Danny says, causing you to let out a soft laugh.

“Are we okay?” You say. Danny’s body tenses from under you.

It takes a few seconds for him to thumb up and answer. “We are more than okay,”

His lips press into the crown of your head, the wetness lingering on your skin for a while. His body heat warms your body but you still tug the comforter over your body to be sure. Your breathing synces after a while and Danny’s fingers gently comb through the ends of your hair, twisting and turning it.

This is definitely not how you expected the trip to turn out, but you’re glad it did.

•••••

#greta van fleet #jake kiszka #jake kiszka smut #josh kiszka #josh kiszka smut #sam kiszka #greta van fleet smut #josh gvf #josh kiszka fic #sam kiszka gvf #danny wagner smut #daniel wagner #danny gvf #danny wagner #gvf fic #gvf fanfiction #gvf smut #gvf

[sunny-speaks]

Alan x Reader (My Dear Hatchet Man)

So I don’t know much about Hatchet Man lmaooo- He’s more mildly possessive but not a full blown yandere or creep or stalker-- so I'm adding a couple of personal touches!

But seriously, we don't get much Yandere! Alan content in the demo so far aside from him being a lil posessive. Or at least what I've seen so far, I could be wrong--

Wants nothing more for him and his doe-eyes to just avoid society and live together for the rest of their life

Is way too committed for a relationship despite meeting you yesterday ‘for the first time.’

Maybe you don’t remember him, maybe you do… But see, you made eye contact and smiled at him a year ago! So that had to mean something to you!

Even if you were just working at a convenience store for quick cash, you wouldn’t just smile at anyone !

(He made sure you didn’t.)

Studied every habit of yours down to the narrowest of details, just so he could act and pretend think like you were right there with him at all times of the day.

He's so observant for you, isn't he?

He wouldn’t venture out far from the forest, but on special occasions, he would stumble upon you sitting on a bench, feeding bread crumbs to birds.

Ohhh, that’s his pretty doe-eyes for ya, hmm? So kind, so generous, so… breathtaking.

Gosh, all his tech is so outdated. When he saw you taking photos of yourself on that fancy rectangle you call a ‘phone,’ he almost regretted becoming a hermit. Simply thinking about the quality photos he could get of you from your style of ‘phone?’ Sent shivers down his spine.

But he supposed he’d have to settle for an older method. Black-and-white camera out, film loaded and ready to take as many photos of his precious darling as possible.

During the day, inconspicuously guarded by the thick lines of trees and maybe at night, if you left your window open. He could scale the walls and crawl in or get a vantage point from a tree.

You were so innocent, his doe-eyes. He had to take such good care of ya, huh? Forgetting to lock your windows sometimes, leaving the curtains open, awh… You must’ve forgotten how creepy the rest of the world is. Don’t worry, Alan’s here to protect you…!

And if he took a couple photos of you sleeping, that’s no one else’s business but his own.

He couldn't wait for the day where he'd be able to be beside you while you were awake too..

So, won’t you be a dear and notice how much he loves you…?

#my dear hatchet man #🧨headcanons #mdhm #mdhm alan #alan orion #alan x reader #mdhm alan x reader #yandere x reader

[yandere-romanticaa]

Tapping the tree gently as a not so subtle warning, Heizou appeared right in front of you as you remained hunched over looking for any possible clues that were left behind by the perpetrator. After almost a year of harsh denial and lies to yourself the realization that you were never alone hit you like a pile of bricks - there were simply too many clues of someone watching you from the shadows, too many trinkets left behind or moved for some nefarious purposes. At first you assumed it was some mischievous little kid who was bored and found enjoyment in messing with you. After all, you did live in the dense Chinju Forest, a place known for its hauntings and overall creepy atmosphere.

The assumption that it was a little kid immediately flew out of the window once your actual clothing started to go missing.

It started off as something silly, a bracelet or anything akin to that nature. But after a few weeks had passed there was little to no clothing left, you were in danger of walking completely bare. And yet, you found it hidden high up in the trees, far away from your sight and it was even more difficult to retrieve.

The gusts of wind, the unlocked windows, all of your missing items... It was driving you insane. And no one believed you. People would brush you off with a sigh or with a wave of their hand, some even going as far to deem you crazy.

Somewhere down the line the tiny inkling of doubt that you actually were crazy had begun to plague you.

Posting a commission to help you was the last straw, your final hope and by some miracle your answers had been answered in the shape of Shikanoin Heizou. A brilliant detective with a sharp mind and even sharper tongue, the young man took your case very seriously. He discovered plenty of things, a hidden trail here, another clue there, all very useful things.

But none of them were enough to catch your stalker.

And that's how you found yourself back to square one.

Letting out a sigh you said nothing as you shook your head in disapproval, worry written all over your face.

If he could, Heizou would pat himself on the back. He knew that you were smart, that you were capable, but seeing you so lost was oddly exciting. You were completely at his mercy, nothing could change that. Part of him was frustrated with your inability to put two and two together that it was actually he who was visiting you, not some child or wandering spirit. He even made sure to drop all the obvious clues too such as him wearing your accessories for example. But of course, you didn't even notice them on his person at all.

You didn't notice because you trusted him. A foolish mistake. But he was ready to play this game of cat and mouse until you finally caught up with him... Or, until his patience ran out.

Whichever came first.

🕊️ TAGS: @genshinarchives, @mod-kisa-blog, @morigumy, @juuuuuj101010, @kalopses-sonderes, @b10h4z4rd, @xiaopleasecomehome, @yumekos-gamble @mayulli, @cc-6789

#yandere #yandere x reader #yancore #yanderecore #yandere aesthetic #yandere imagines #yandere x you #heizou genshin impact #yandere shikanoin heizou #heizou #shikanoin heizou #heizou x y/n #yandere heizou x you #yandere heizou #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin imagines #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact #genshin hcs #heizou genshin

[lilacmingi]

ALICE IN WONDERLAND AU ♤ PART 5: NAMJOON

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works

Pairing: Caterpillar!Namjoon x fem reader

Word count: 2,480

You had been running for quite some time and figured it was okay to walk for a few minutes and give your lower limbs a break—they were aching anyway. Never in your life had you ran so much in such a short amount of time. You never needed to.

Now walking at a relaxed pace, any thoughts you had about running away from the red knights were replaced with other thoughts. An endless list of unanswered inquiries swirled around your mind like a raging hurricane. One after another, more and more questions popped into your restless mind.

What's so special about you and why was everyone after you? You're just... you. Nothing extraordinary or special.

Everything you'd experienced thus far had felt too outlandish to be reality. You couldn't remember how many names Yoongi had mentioned. Six? Maybe seven, men liked you?

Ridiculous.

The tip of your shoe kicked at a rock, sending it rolling along the dirt path you were walking along. You didn't even know where you were going or what lied ahead. You were lost once again and this time you didn't have a feisty cat boy to help guide you.

You can't have run very far, but maybe you had gone far enough to put a little distance between you and the threat. Then again, you were unsure of how long Taehyung was able to keep those knights distracted. For all you knew, they could be hot on your trail.

As if the universe was playing a cruel trick on you, the sound of distant marching reached your ears.

Seriously? You sighed internally.

Breaking out into a sprint, you dashed down the dirt pathway to keep some separation between you and the hoard of knights. It was at that moment it dawned on you that you were leaving shoe prints in the dirt. With limited time to come up with a plan, you did the first thing that popped into your head which was to run into the cluster of plants to the right of the trail. Instead of continuing through the mushrooms and tall grass, you leapt over the path and into the lush greenery on the left, going that way instead, hoping your little trick would buy some extra time.

"Maybe that'll hold them back for a while." You spoke to yourself and took off into the thick growth of mushrooms and curly vines.

Your running never ceased no matter how bad your legs throbbed or your lungs burned, refusing to stop until you could no longer hear the perfectly synchronized marching.

You huffed and puffed for air, panting heavily and stumbling forward, as your knees were on the verge of giving out on you.

At that moment, you could hear someone's voice from somewhere up ahead. Whoever it was wasn't talking nor singing, but something in between. Every line he spoke came out in a rhythmic way that was pleasing to the ears. The words he uttered were done so eloquently and without any slip-ups. This man's voice was entrancing and pulled you towards it like a siren song.

Too enraptured by the stranger's mesmerizing voice and hypnotic words, you paid no attention to your surroundings and tripped over a tree root that had breached the ground.

"Ow." You grunted and sat up a little, rubbing your elbow where it had harshly collided with the dirt and grass during the tumble.

Surveying your surroundings, you found that you were in a clearing amongst the tall and unruly plants of Wonderland that you had been running through for what felt like hours.

"Stupid girl." You heard someone speak. Lifting your head, you spotted a man sitting in a fancy wingback chair made of rich blue velvet, a tall messily-stacked tower of books on the ground beside him. He was dressed sharply in a blue silk suit with a white cravat. Perched between his fingers was the mouthpiece of a hookah which sat beside the stack of books in the grass.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You should watch where you're going." He remarked, taking a puff from the hookah.

"Yeah well... people make mistakes." You huffed, getting up and dusting yourself off.

"Who are you?" The the man inquired, blowing smoke rings into the air.

"I'm Y/n."

"I know who you are."

"Then why did you ask?"

"You still didn't answer my question. Who are you?"

"I already told you."

"No. You didn't."

"Have you lost your mind?"

"I believe it's you that's lost your mind. You can't seem to remember your last visit here, can you?"

"How do you know that?"

"Silly girl. I know all."

"Well, if you know all then surely you know that I haven't the slightest idea who you are." Your arms crossed over your chest annoyedly.

You hadn't been in the presence of this man for more than a minute and he was already starting to grind your gears. Forget his pretty prose and rhythmic speaking.

"I'm Namjoon." He responded.

He seemed like a know-it-all, but you had to admit, he was very attractive. From his tanned skin to his sharp eyes and full lips. He was good-looking indeed, but his personality was ugly and undesirable.

"What's on your mind, baby?"

"What did you call me?"

"You heard me, baby." He punctuated the nickname this time.

The way he said it made your heart skip a beat. His voice dropped an octave and became breathier when he uttered the affectionate term.

You shook your head in an attempt to shake away the thoughts.

You hardly know this man, Y/n. You reeled yourself in. And he's rude.

"This is definitely a dream." You muttered under your breath lowly.

"What's that? You need to speak up, love."

So first it was stupid girl and now it's love?

"Nothing."

"Oh come on, sweetheart. You used to tell me everything."

"How should I know? I can't remember."

"Just trust me, Y/n."

Rolling your eyes, you dropped your arms at your sides, which up until that point had been crossed over your chest. "Is this a dream?"

"What do you think?" He questioned.

"I don't know. I've been back and forth with myself about that since I got here. For a while I thought it was a dream, but I was told it l wasn't. Everything is so strange and seems like a dream, but it feels very real. The emotions, the fear, the confusion. All of that seems real."

"Hm." He took a puff from the hookah and blew the smoke directly in your face. "What exactly makes you think this is all a dream?"

Coughing, you used your hand to fan the clouds away before speaking.

"Well, for one there was a giant beast searching for me. I've met a bunny hybrid, a man with a mysterious twin that no one has seen, a cat hybrid, and a hatter that's batty as ever. To top it all off, every single one of them have been fighting over me. That's what's really convincing me that this is all part of some bizarre fever dream."

"Silly girl." Namjoon chortled. "You really think you're not attractive enough for men to fight over? You think you're not desirable?"

"Not exactly. Four men fighting over you and kissing you all in one day is a bit unrealistic, is it not? I mean, it's almost as if I'm in a story or something."

Without a word, Namjoon stood up from his chair, taking long strides as he approached.

"That's where you're wrong." He whispered lowly, planting one hand on your waist. "You have no idea how entrancing you are."

As much as you wanted to speak, you were unable. Namjoon's charms had rendered you completely speechless and you were frozen in place.

"I can't believe you think so lowly of yourself." He murmured, tracing your jawline. "Oblivious girl."

You didn't have time to retaliate with a snarky comment as Namjoon leaned in closely, closing the gap between your faces.

Thinking you were about to be kissed for the third time that day, your body stiffened in preparation, but you never felt his lips on yours. Instead, he turned his head slightly and placed a gentle kiss on the outer corner of your mouth.

"Does it feel like a dream now?" He asked lowly, his breath fanning against the side of your face.

You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry.

"No." You barely managed to utter.

He pulled back and ran his thumb over your bottom lip, desire clouding his eyes.

"I really want to kiss you properly, but I'll save that for a later time."

As much as you wanted to ask what that was supposed to mean, you couldn't. His gentlemanly display of affection had your heart racing at a rapid pace. Everyone you'd met so far had kissed you in one way or another and you found it nice that Namjoon chose not to go directly for the lips like Yoongi and Taehyung had so boldly done earlier. It showed that he cared about you, even if only a little bit, putting your comfort over his desire to place his lips directly upon yours.

Namjoon could see the spaced-out expression on your face and chuckled softly, guiding you to his chair where he returned to his seat, patting his lap.

You were hesitant.

"Don't be shy." He beckoned.

You obliged, albeit awkwardly, and took a seat on his legs.

"I'd offer you another place to sit but as you can see, there is none."

"Right. Of course." You nodded.

It was a bit awkward just sitting there, especially in his lap, so you tried to come up with a topic to talk about.

"What exactly were you doing earlier before I showed up? Reciting poems?"

"You heard me?"

"I did. You sounded great."

"Really?" He asked, cracking a smile that showed off a charming set of dimples.

"I must admit, I was entranced. Your rhythmic way of speaking was almost hypnotic. It was like you were putting on a performance."

Your praises made a monsoon of affectionate emotions flood through him, his stomach filling with a flurry of butterflies.

"I love to read and if I find an excerpt or poem that speaks to me, I memorize it. I must have been practicing when you showed up."

"I suppose you have to find something to pass the time when you're sitting in the middle of nowhere." You joked.

"Actually, I do have a place of my own."

"You do?"

He let out a noise that sounded like a mix between a huff and scoff. "Well I certainly don't sleep here in this chair out in the open."

"Of course you don't. How ignorant of me." You commented, giving a playful roll of your eyes.

"You're starting to sound like me." He tittered.

Namjoon's attitude had changed a noticeable amount since first meeting him not too long ago. You quite liked this side of him. It was much better than the arrogant know-it-all that was grinding your gears earlier.

"Do you happen to know Taehyung, Yoongi, Jimin, and Jungkook?" You inquired.

"Of course I do. They're my friends."

"Then you know you've got some incredibly brave friends. They've been protecting me."

"From The Red King, right?"

"How did you—" You stopped mid-sentence.

"I know all." The both of you spoke in unison, laughing softly afterwards.

"I know about The Red King situation." He stated. "Word travels fast here."

"Taehyung said he sent Jungkook to get me and bring me to him so he could protect me."

"Taehyung? Protect you? That's hilarious." Namjoon laughed.

"Why?"

"I love him to death; he's one of my best friends, but he's a bit... irresponsible sometimes. He gets way ahead of himself and underestimates the situations he gets himself into."

"Ah. I see."

"If anyone can protect you, it's The White King."

"Yoongi mentioned him during an argument with Taehyung." You noted.

"Those two are arguing again? About what?"

"Again?" You echoed.

"They don't get along well." Namjoon sighed, visibly exasperated just talking about it. "So what was it this time?"

"This is embarrassing, but they were fighting about me."

"I should've known. You had mentioned something about men arguing over you, but I wasn't aware it was my own friends." He shook his head in disappointment. "Did they pull any moves on you?"

"Well—"

"Y/n?"

The sound of your name being called in the distance had you sitting up straighter, trying to figure out who it was. There was rustling in the plants, which meant someone was making their way towards you.

"Found her." Yoongi's voice was above you.

Glancing up, you saw the cat hybrid floating in the air, looking down at you from his suspended position in the atmosphere.

Taehyung then emerged from the tall plants, dusting off his silk robe.

"Thank goodness you're okay! I told you I'd look for you. Did I not?" He lifted his head, gasping when he saw the scene in front of him.

Taehyung was looking forward to finding you safe and sound, but what he didn't expect was to find you sitting in Namjoon's lap.

"Give me my Y/n back, Joon."

"She's not yours." He spoke sternly, wrapping his arm around your waist in a protective, maybe even possessive, manner.

"Do you like him, Y/n?" Yoongi questioned, crossing his arms as he returned to the ground.

You opened your mouth to speak, but Namjoon cut in before you could say a word.

"Leave her alone. The poor girl has been through enough today."

"C'mon, sweetheart." Yoongi held his hand out to you, silently beckoning you to come with him. "I can take you somewhere safe."

"No, come here." Taehyung extended his hand as well.

"She's not going with either of you. Taehyung, you're an idiot for thinking you could keep her safe." Namjoon spoke sharply.

"Excuse me?"

Yoongi snorted, causing Taehyung to shoot a sharp glare at him. The hybrid cleared his throat and was quick to wipe the grin off his face.

"Sorry." He muttered.

"It's the truth." Namjoon stated. "You get way too overzealous and think you can take on the world, but you can't. In fact, if Y/n stayed with you, she'd probably be locked up in The Red King's castle right now."

They all started arguing after that, shouting over one another and throwing insults left and right with no signs of stopping.

Not again.

"Guys, please don't start." You groaned, pulling Namjoon's arm off of you and getting to your feet.

Just like back at the tea party, none of them heard you, too engrossed in their own petty argument to listen.

Throughout all the commotion, you didn't even notice the sound of The Red King's knights marching straight towards you.

➯ Part 6: Hoseok

Masterlist ᝰ

DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

🏷 @h3arteyes4mingi @weird-bookworm @poppy2007 @parkjennykim @evidive @mxlly143 @lizzymizzy-blogg @minhanbyeol @dinossaurz

#namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #namjoon x y/n #kim namjoon #bts alice in wonderland au #bts au fanfic #bts au fic #kpop imagines #kpop fanfic

[her-favorite]

MERRY CHRISTMAS; C. MONAGHAN

CAMERON MONAGHAN X F!READER

WARNINGS: not proofread/edited! but other than that, none!

WC: 1261 - (very) short but sweet!

A/N: i had so many ideas in mind for an xmas fic (for cam, jerome and even jeremiah 😭) but i procrastinated for too long and now it’s 12:30 am on christmas as i write this so that’s another reason why it’s so short 😭 im sorryy 🫶🏻

SUMMARY: Decorating cookies with Cam while it snows outside <3

-

It was tradition to bake cookies with Cameron every year. It was also tradition for Cameron to burn himself while taking them out of the oven..

“Ow! Fuck!” A yell was heard from the kitchen and finally, you knew better than to spring up and rush over to the man and ask what was wrong. Apparently he took that tradition very seriously.

“Cam, are you serious?” You sigh as you make your way into the kitchen area, your socks padding against the floor of your shared home. Once you got close enough to him, you took his hand in yours to inspect the injury, only to be met with his normal pale skin.

“I had to, baby.” He chuckles and kisses your head, taking in your surprised reaction, only amplifying his laughter. When you snap out of your daze, you try to hold back a smile as you playfully slap him on the shoulder. You fail as a wide smile takes over your face once your boyfriend’s laugh reverberates through the kitchen.

“Shut up, get the cookies.” Cameron sees right through your fake agitation as the smile is as big as ever on your beautiful face. With another chuckle escaping his lips, he obeys and grabs the pan, walking into the dining room and placing it down. You join him as you brought frosting with you, putting it beside the cookies, a few food colorings in your palm so you could dye the white sugary treat.

You both take a seat and grab a cookie each, scooping up some frosting on a butter knife as soft songs play through the tiny speaker you own. The lighting was dim as it grew darker outside, small white specs flying past the windows. The snow began to stick as it gathered on top of each other. The perfect kind to make a snowman with. Or a snowball fight..

“Sweetheart,” you looked over at the man in front of you as his soft voice broke you out of your trance. “Open,” you oblige, parting your lips and letting him offer the cookie to you, biting off the top half of a christmas tree, green frosting residing on your lip. The smile on Cameron’s face made you melt as he watched you, those beautiful smile lines coming to light.

He takes away the other half and eats the rest, dusting off his hands from the crumbs. The wind seemed to have picked up from outside as the sharp sound of it blowing every which way, invaded the house. When Cameron looked back at you, he couldn’t stifle a giggle.

“You got somethin’,” he mimics wiping something off of his top lip with a smile on his face. You immediately try to wipe - what you assumed to be - frosting off of your face, but Cameron looked more amused by the fact you couldn’t find it. “Let me get it.” He mutters and leans forward, suddenly pressing his lips to yours, licking over the dyed frosting. It left a sugary taste in his mouth and it only added to his love of kissing you.

“All good.” He smiles teasingly as he leans back in his seat, subconsciously licking his lips. Your eyes never leave his for a moment, until you (once again) snap out of it and look down at the cookie that you had abandoned with a warm face. A quiet, soft chuckle was heard in front of you from your boyfriend, only adding to the flushed feeling.

Songs play and end and repeat as minutes go by, the wind getting faster and the snow getting heavier. You hadn't stepped foot outside since this morning- when you quickly ran to grab flour for the cookies you both were making- but you were a hundred percent sure that it was freezing outside. The snow began to clump on the frozen grass, the green strands slowly being coveted by the white ice.

Your christmas tree was up, warm lights illuminating the dim room. The soft carols that sounded from the radio soothes you both as you decorated the cookies, occasionally eating or two (Cam's excuse always being, "it didn't look right.. and it couldn't go to waste!"). His enthusiasm for the delicious treat always made you happy, knowing that just the one tradition during the christmas season can have that sort of affect on him. He would always boast about how he was lucky he got to spend it with you as well.

By the time you both finish the cookies, it was pitch black outside; with the exception of the bright snow that littered the ground. You had put the treats away for tomorrow as Cameron helped you clean up, placing the dirty utensils and pan into the sink.

As you finish washing the dried, sticky frosting from your hands, you feel strong arms wrap around your waist. The slight weight of his head on your shoulder barely registered as you were more than used to the position that you both were in.

"Merry Christmas, baby." Cameron whispers in your ear, the smile on his face being heard through his words. Your eyes widen slightly at his sentence, taking a quick glance over at the clock that was in the kitchen, reading: 12:04 (am) on the hands. You look through the window in front of you as Cameron holds you gently against him, rocking you both slightly. The snow falls perfectly before you, your eyes never landing on just one snowflake as they pass by.

A white christmas; something everyone that celebrates christmas wishes for. It was comforting and nostalgic and it made a warm smile spread across your face as you lean back against your lover. His thumb rubs back and forth gently against your skin, sneaking between the end of your shirt and the very beginning of your pants.

"Merry Christmas, Cam."

-

The fire crackled and popped, the bright light shining throughout the entire room.

You and Cameron were lying in the living room together, the christmas tree in the corner, some presents underneath and the fireplace burning. It was around one in the morning and you've both yet to fall asleep. You had originally sat out here because you and Cam were watching christmas movies together, basking in the nostalgic and calming feeling. The two of you lied with each other, your head on his bare chest as you listened carefully to his soothing heartbeat. Cameron's arms were wrapped around you tight, securing your spot on him and not letting you get away. As your head rested near the crook of his neck, his lips lied against you, eyes fluttering shut occasionally.

The snow had never let up, not that either of you were bothered by it. When Cameron had woken up at one point, his eyes were met with you sleeping on his chest. Though he sees the sight more often than not, it never fails to make him smile and feel giddy inside. He found so much comfort in you and he couldn't be more grateful to have you in his life; his girl.

He reached over to click the TV off, the lights from the tree illuminating the area. The aura was comforting and it quickly lulled Cameron back to sleep, but not without a kiss to your forehead and a sweet whisper, "Merry Christmas, Y/N." His hand softly moves through your hair, careful not to wake you. "I love you."

As the light on the christmas tree never wavers, neither does the love you both have for each other.

#cameron monaghan #cameron monaghan x reader #cameron monaghan smut #cameron monaghan imagines #i love this man sm #merry christmas!! #jerome valeska x reader

[sinisterexaggerator]

Tech and Hondo Ohnaka (Part 3)

Rated: Teen and up (a rare general audiences fic on my part.)

Warning: Pain mention, fishing (death of animal for food), Plan 99 mention. Small bit of angst. Use of drugs / weed equivalent in the Star Wars universe.

Fic Summary: Tech is plummeting toward death, yet he is spared, all thanks to a Weequay pirate who was simply in the wrong place at the right time, depending.

Word count: 5.1k

Notes: This is a kind of crack / AU scenario. I like the idea of Hondo being the one to encounter Tech after his fall. The idea was definitely inspired my Phee's line at the end of season 2: "Well, don't go running off with any pirates or smugglers while you're gone,." :) Don't take this too seriously, though at the same time I tried to make it plausible. The main point of this was to have fun with Tech and Hondo ribbing each other in their own way. I love both of these characters, and I am excited to see what you guys think.

Chapter 1, 2 | Read on Ao3

Many a swipe of Hondo’s vibrocutlass cleared the path laid out before them, the brigand chopping down branches as if they had personally offended him. Eriadu’s jungle had thickened the deeper and deeper they strayed into the forest, the pirate at once assuring his partner in crime that the sound of flowing water somewhere beyond them was indeed a good sign, as it meant the lommite mine was not too far off.

Tech was relieved to see it, albeit blurrily -- clean water, serpentine, a bubbling stream winding up into the mountains with a waterfall at its head.

Perhaps it was the sound, reminiscent of rain or the calming waves of the ocean back on Pabu, that finally gave Tech pause both physically and mentally, the weary clone swaying on his aching legs as he came to a stop beside the water’s edge.

“We are so very close, my friend. Not tuu much farther, and—” Hondo picked up a motion just behind him, turning in time to see the Republic clone fall onto both knees like a ton of duracrete bricks against the soft earth below their feet. Gray eyes widened beneath four-sided frames, though the Weequay was hesitant to make any move to aid him. “—Hm?”

“I…” Tech trailed off, lethargically sliding off his pack as he sat down fully on his haunches. One arm came to lie against the bulk of his belongings as he leaned against it for support, chest expanding and contracting with each labored breath he took. “I must rest,” he conceded, mostly to himself.

Hondo sheathed his blade, birds scattering at the sudden unfamiliar noise that reverberated through the trees, high-density metal taking its place at his side. He gave Tech a cursory once over, though Hondo was surprised he had made it this far in his condition, expecting the clone to collapse long before now; he had to admit he was impressed.

“Here? Out en de open?” Hondo asked with an exaggerated, questioning lilt to his voice. He made a show of pointedly looking to the left and right as if checking for traffic, then sighed dramatically, lowering himself onto one leg so as to face the wounded man.

“Ef only we had a stim-shot, ah?” Hondo suggested, both the Weequay’s striated hands reaching out to grasp either side of Tech’s definitely-not-standard-issue helmet. Instinctively, he jerked back, Hondo’s fingers left stretched before him. He did not retreat, tilting his head inquisitively to the side. “Trust me, yes?”

Tech stared at him blankly through the cracked head-up display; it was his only means of viewing his surroundings. Against his better judgement, he did not move again; he was much too exhausted to protest any further.

Hondo set Tech’s unusual headgear off to the side, carefully, and almost with a kind of reverence. A helmet was indeed a thing of great import, and Hondo would treat it as such; he had not touched another’s besides his since Jango. Those in his employ did not bother to use such things, nor did he often come into contact with soldiers, conscripted or otherwise, that he wished to have for company for any length of time.

This, however, was a special circumstance, and one with a high payout!

“Hm…” the Weequay uttered, a low sound registering at the back of his throat. Tech found it somewhat difficult to lift his head, so the Weequay did it for him, two fingers guiding him upward as stormy irises pierced through transparisteel with severe intensity.

Hondo concernedly studied this…variant of his old friend's face, finding it hard to believe he shared the same DNA as the long-dead bounty hunter. He often thought of Boba, wondering if he would ever see him again, or if the younger Fett had no time for the old Weequay now that he was out to follow in his daddy’s footsteps.

Hondo tutted. Or was it more of a tsk? Tech did all he could do; he sat there and breathed, dark brown eyes never once faltering as the pirate observed, though he was unsure exactly what he was looking for. He supposed he was still a bit worried he would be left here on his own with the wild animals of the wood, not to mention the TK Troopers that were bound to not give up; should the last squad not return to base, Tech was positive another would be ordered to follow suit.

“Yes… “ Hondo drawled, releasing Tech from his grasp so suddenly that he had to steady himself, head lulling downward as his neck refused to wholly cooperate; his body felt entirely too heavy.

“We shall rest,” Hondo agreed.

---

“That is not wise,” Tech informed the man who was presently hunched over, Hondo’s crimson coat fanning out like the splendid feathers of some pompous bird  - in either direction -  behind him. The scoundrel squatted easily alongside a pile of varied twigs and branches that he himself had gathered, turning to speak from over his narrow shoulder.

“Juuust because your brain es bigger dan de rest of us does not mean I du not know what I am doing,” Hondo snapped testily, flicking the flint of his igniter stick in an unsuccessful attempt to light his recently collected bundle of kindling. The clone was ungrateful, if anything; Hondo had gone to quite a lot of trouble!

“Starting a fire in the middle of the woods by which the enemy will find us is undoubtedly a poor choice; it does not take a large brain to see the flaw in your plan, though brain size has a surprisingly small impact on intelligence and behavior; the relationship is tenuous at best.”

“Well, I can tell you are feeling better,” Hondo offered in complaint, not at all happy at being so discourteously reprimanded for something he had done a thousand times, on a thousand different planets! He had allowed the clone to close his eyes for over an hour, watching apprehensively Eriadu’s sun getting lower in the sky.

“I, for one, am hungry, and IIIIIII suppose you may be as well. Ef we are tu stop here en repose, den I shall utilize my time wisely and procure for us some delicious fish, ah? No need tu thank me, dhough et would be appreciated,” Hondo finished flatly, at once a bouquet of Mandalorian orange flames sparking to life like the blossoming of some alien, incandescent flower unfolding before his very eyes.

“I have a spare ration bar in my pack,” Tech answered dryly, though he would not trouble himself to check quite yet, finding that he was irritated by the Weequay’s blatant disregard of his urgent warning.

“En fact, you are less likely tu see de fire in de daylight. Ef I wait any longer, poor Hondo will starve while you eat your nasty, chewy, flavorless nutrient—" he stalled, thinking of an appropriate term to emphasize his disgust, “—brick.”

“I am in no position to swiftly vacate the premises should the need arise,” Tech responded, reminding him of the predicament he was in; to not be at his best when TK Troopers – or worse - could be lurking anywhere nearby was disheartening. Tech was not used to being unable to fend for himself.

Tech was not sure if he had been heard, as Hondo kept his back to him, busying himself with something in one of his many pockets. It was impossible to make out what it was, and Tech would not bother to try, though the air was now inextricably pervaded by the smell of something sweet, and pungent.

The Weequay stood, complaining about his back as he straightened out, two fingers pinching the end of what looked like a hand rolled cigarra as he languorously sucked off the end. “Yes, I can see dat,” Hondo finally replied with a dismissive wave, smoke exiting through his broad nostrils.

Tech pulled a face, opposed to the distinct odor that now permeated the vicinity, his eyebrows furrowing to give off the appearance of two displeased caterpillars inching their way toward the bridge of his nose. “Is that necessary?” he asked sharply.

“Marcan herb,” Hondo offered without answering his query, another plume of smoke diffusing outwardly as he exhaled. “Would you care for some?” Hondo questioned, what could only be described as an impish grin spreading across the entirety of his face.

“No,” the clone returned, his tone laced with obvious distaste.

“Pity—” Hondo faked a pout, one foot rising so that the heel of his boot could press down against the top of the other; he was beginning to kick them off in preparation, Tech imagined, the unlit end of the tightly rolled cigarra being held down within his easy reach, “—it might… help with de pain, hm?”

For a moment, Tech wondered about it. He was never one to partake of illicit substances, but the amount of pain he was experiencing was substantial. Still, he would not let that override his common sense, head turning so as to avoid the brunt of its biting stench. “Absolutely not,” he stated with resolve. “It is important we keep our faculties intact and remain on high alert.”

“Make nooo mistake, my friend--  we will be high. Another reason tu try et.” Hondo’s grin grew wider, though how this was possible, Tech was unsure. However, this did not elicit a response, Tech’s deadpan expression the only reply Hondo would receive.

The Weequay shrugged, working to dislodge his other boot; the socks came next, much in the same manner. This left him barefoot, Hondo placing the Marcan herb back between his lips as he once more unsheathed his cutlass to stick it in the ground, hilt up. “I can tell you aren’t any fun,” he flippantly insulted, “probably de least fun out of all your brothers.”

“Fun is subjective,” Tech returned, beginning to fiddle with the crushed bits of metal and circuitry that made up the remnants of his datapad. “While this—” he held up the broken components for Hondo to see, “—is fun for me— that —” he made a gesture toward the water and where Hondo was now rolling up one pant leg at a time, “—may be fun for you.”

“No, et es a necessity,” Hondo snapped, the ridges of his brow furrowing in annoyance as he pulled another drag from off his herbs without it ever leaving his mouth. Hondo retrieved his sword, the vibrocutlass humming like the buzzing of a busy bee as Hondo waddled ankle-deep into the cool stream, this time the Weequay’s expression contorting toward something unpleasant–- he did not like the cold, nor being in the water. It was at times like these that he missed his hot, dry ball of dust; Florrum would always be considered home-sweet-home.

Tech sighed, inspecting a loose wire. “I am willing to share.”

Hondo would have laughed, but it would frighten the fish, so he refrained, voice deepening as it came out a dark gravel. “Not until Mustafar freezes over will I eat dat.”

“Well, you certainly have your priorities in line,” Tech said offhand, reaching for a tool that would aid him in his repairs; he sighed again when he realized it was not there. It must have been lost in the fall or during one of the subsequent misadventures he had since meeting this odd fellow.

“And you do?” Hondo asked disdainfully. “You are tinkering with your toys when you should be resting, ah? Dis es why we stopped, es et not?”

“It is not a toy,” Tech chastised him, “it is a highly complex electronic device used for inputting, storing and displaying information – this one is customized to my own specifications and is useful for all manner of things, including communication.”

“And et. es. broken,” Hondo stressed, lunging at the water only to come back empty-handed. “Stop talking! You are scaring away my prey.”

Tech did not say anything one way or the other. He was fine not speaking to the pirate, as all conversations seemed to wind up as petty arguments.

Hondo broke the silence barely ten seconds later; it appeared he was the one unable to be quiet for any length of time. “Tell me, what else du you du for fun, hm? Dis… fleeing from de Empire must be a favorite little pastime of yours.”

Tech smirked as he finally began digging around for that ration bar he was positive he had in his pack; being constantly on the move and expending copious amounts of energy meant the mostly tasteless, nutrient-dense foodstuff was a must to keep on hand. “Are you asking a legitimate question in an attempt to get to know me, or is this a ploy to find out why I am a wanted fugitive?” he inquired matter of fact.

Hondo scoffed like an affronted dandy, flicking the ash off the end of his joint. He adorned a little smirk of his own to counter Tech’s, taking another jab at something just beneath the surface. “Can et not be both?” he asked.

“There are many things I find ‘fun’ or intellectually stimulating,” Tech informed him plainly, “though living each day as if it might be my last is not of particular interest to me.” He frowned, as he was unable to locate the edible item he had been set on eating within the next few minutes. Everything had its place he reminded himself, although his pack was somewhat in a disarray as was to be expected.

As if cashing in on the interconnectedness of Tech’s statement with that of the task he had set out to perform, Hondo slung his arm back and around to dislodge a rather large fish from off his blade. It flew forward, landing in the dirt near the clone’s feet; it was both bleeding and gasping for air.  Tech was at least able to make out that much, the pirate having pierced the gill-bearing vertebrate through its belly seconds prior.

“Dis es an issue of skill, a lack of comprehension on your part,” the scoundrel returned, “for even dhough you might not be chased by de Empire tuday, tumorrow, or en de weeks dat follow, someting will kill you. Eventually. Like dis fish, ah?” He gestured toward the flopping creature. “Be et soldiers en white armor, food poisoning, a knife en your back from a beloved friend—” Hondo made a stabbing motion toward the water for emphasis, “— or perhaps ef you are lucky, old age.”

Tech did not claim to know everything, though this was one insult he took to heart. He knew exactly what he had intended; it was the Weequay who did not comprehend his meaning, and he deigned to correct him, even though he was confident it would be a wasted breath. “I know what life is, and the inherent meaning therein. What it is to live, and how fortunate it is that I have been gifted a life at all. As for aging, ours is accelerated. I shall meet my end sooner than you are likely to meet yours.”

Hondo feigned extreme concentration, though he heard every word. “You are missing de point,” he retorted breezily.

“Perhaps you assume clones are not in touch with their own mortality, being programmed as soldiers.” At that moment, Tech remembered; he had given the last of his rations to Omega the week before. Their arrival to Ord Mantell had been delayed, and she had been hungry. He thought it was the right thing to do, though unsure why it had taken him this long to recall the event; Tech was beginning to wonder just how hard he had hit his head. “I can assure you we are destined to think more on it because of that fact, not less.”

“Iiii never said any of dat,” Hondo said begrudgingly, capturing what was to be his second kill of the evening. He began to wade back toward shore, fish in tow, tossing it down to join its brethren beside the fire.

“Take me, for example. I am a pirate. What I du does not come without ets dangers, dhough I am of course highly aware of de gambles I take.” Hondo sat, crossing his legs. He placed his vibrocutlass in the dirt, then retrieved a smaller blade from out of one of his endless pockets; the Marcan herb was pinched on the right side of his mouth, hanging loosely from thin lips.

“Dat es what makes life so special, my friend -  enjoyable -  de not-knowing-what-es-going-tu-happen-next part. De risk dat death es waiting right around de corner! Et has taught me not tu take any moment for granted, not even dis one, en de company of a know-it-all who maybe knows less dan he tinks, hm?”

Tech only gazed forward, unable to differentiate between much of anything but the dancing flames and the vague figure of the Weequay whose hand was working at something in his lap. When a particular smell hit his nose, like brine, or seaweed, that is when Tech knew the fish he had impaled was being gutted open, Hondo cleaning the pair in order to cook them over the crackling campfire. “You are saying that I should find enjoyment in running from the Empire.”

“Not exactly, but yes,” Hondo grinned once more, slapping guts and bone down onto rich soil where it would decay and feed many creatures, as was intended by the great circle of life, “for ef you are running, dey have not yet captured you. Personally, de thrill of de chase makes me truly feel alive,” he finished.

“From a certain point of view, I suppose you are correct,” Tech admitted, never really thinking from that perspective before. Obviously, it was always deemed favorable to have one’s freedom, though he wondered what it would be like to relax – to have time to do those things he wished to do.

Being born and bred a solider did not mean Tech particularly enjoyed the missions that he was assigned, or only insofar as he could learn from his travels across the galaxy, but on the other hand stationing himself somewhere, like Pabu for example, would also be beneficial; less time fighting meant more time for research into those realms that truly awestruck and inspired him.

“Of course I am!” Hondo belted, jolting Tech back to the present moment; the pirate refitted the now clean fish onto the tip of his sword. “I did not make et dis far being wrong. Besides—”  Hondo added, plucking the rolled herbs from his mouth, “— I am sure joy finds you en every daring escape. You have a family tu consider, yes?” Hondo gave Tech a sidelong glance as he flicked the butt of his smoke into the fire; it sizzled in indignation before settling back down into a controlled burn.

Tech replaced the broken bits of his datapad back into its holster the best he could, adjusting himself into a more comfortable position so as to squint at the Weequay who was a blob of red some few feet away. “Yes,” he responded dejectedly, thinking on how worried they must be – more than that. Tech presumed he was thought to be dead, and he supposed he ought to be if not for this perplexing pirate. “At least I do not have to worry about them searching for my remains.”

“Hmm, indeed… “ Hondo rotated his wrist, turning the fish he had skewered on the end of his cutlass so as to roast them evenly throughout. “You mentioned earlier de source of de explosion… Perhaps dey think you nothing more dan ashes?” Gray eyes scrunched as if he was deep in thought, “I found you very far from dat… place on de mountain with de bad, bad men… Es dere a way down from dere dat leads intu de forest?”

The Weequay’s inflection was inquisitive, yet also riddled with skepticism. Tech felt a twinge of guilt, knowing that he may have to once more tell a little white lie, not sure how the pirate would react to knowing he was the inadvertent cause of his ship’s destruction. Although, they were beginning to build up a rapport. Hondo had said to “trust him.” Tech wondered, could he be trusted? He remembered at one point doubting Phee.

“Not precisely,” Tech started, though he was betrayed; his stomach growled, interrupting him. He was almost glad of it. Perhaps it would be enough of a distraction so as to derail the current topic of conversation.

Hondo’s head turned, slowly, as he simultaneously twirled the fish clockwise so as to cook its underbelly. “And just where es dat bland bar of excrement you were so excited about?”

“It seems I was incorrect,” Tech said, voice quieting, “I gave the last of my rations to Omega.”

Hondo tutted, laughing lightly as he shook his head. “You clones and your fancy names.” Then, he changed his tune, reminding himself of his past. “I suppose I cannot blame you, for I also chose my own name. You see, Weequay have no need for names outside our clan. Et es only when we live amongst non-Quay we take on a personal name. I liked Hondo. Et es a good, strong name.” A partial tale; Hondo would keep the more intimate details to himself.

Tech did not have anything to say to that, though he enjoyed learning this tidbit about his culture.

“Here!” Hondo stretched out his cutlass, blade first. “Eat,” he commanded sternly, Tech feeling somewhat apprehensive as the smell of fresh cooked fish invaded his nostrils.

“They are yours,” he responded.

“You were willing tu share, no? Well, tuday, so am I,” Hondo replied simply.

Tech hesitated a few seconds more, then extended his arm. It took him a moment, as he wanted to make sure not to cut himself on the pirate’s blade. “I thank you,” Tech stated in appreciation, removing one roasted fish for his consumption and leaving the other for the man who had made this meal possible; he took a bite. It was actually quite tasty.

Hondo severed a cord of flesh with his teeth, eating the fish from off his sword as if it was the leg of a nuna and the blade was its bone. The scoundrel studied the clone across from him, then took off his own helmet. He stood, then walked while eating, scooping up a generous measure of water within its bowl.

“It is good,” Tech offered in compliment, though he was not much of a conversationalist when it came to small talk. Still, he felt some sort of acknowledgement was warranted.

“It is, isn’t it?” Hondo agreed, walking back in Tech’s direction so as to douse the lapping flames into nothing but embers that would dwindle and die out. “Now, where were we?” he asked, setting his helmet on the ground. It was the first time Tech could see the whole of his head.

The clone paused mid-bite.

“Ah yes, so tell me, how did you escape? Dinner and a story - one of my favorite tings.”

Tech would take a moment to chew thoughtfully, his mind concocting something he could tell the pirate while also not fully incriminating himself. Lying was not a habit he wished to maintain, though he was still a mite unsure if he should tell the entire truth.

Tech took a breath, then began. “On the way out of the facility, we encountered some problems.”

“Yes, you mentioned dat…”

“Not only did the presence of Saw Guerrera complicate matters, but the TK Troopers did as well.”

“I can imagine,” Hondo affirmed with a mouthful of food.

“My brothers, sister and I were, how you say, making our ‘daring escape,’ when the railcar we were traveling in took on heavy fire and ground to a halt in midair.”

“A sister?!” Hondo asked enthusiastically. “Surely not biological?”

“Yes, Omega is an unmodified, enhanced female clone created from the genetic template of the Mandalorian bounty hunter Jango Fett.”

“Unmodified?!” Hondo nearly spat out what he had been chewing, “like Boba?”

“Boba. Yes. I have heard there was another.”

“Not just any other, my friend, Jango’s son.”

Tech paused, contemplating the complexity of that statement and what it could mean. Technically, this Boba would be another carbon copy of the donor, and ‘son’ was nothing more than an honorary title given to one particular clone left in Jango’s questionable care; he would be the Alpha to Omega. “I see.”

“Du you?” Hondo asked, leaning forward. “Why, what a marvelous ting. I wonder, did he know? Did Jango know he had a… daughter?”

Tech did not have the answer to that question. “I am unsure, though evidence points to no, as Omega has never mentioned her—” he paused, not liking the inaccuracy of the descriptor he was about to use, “—father. She has also never mentioned interacting with the template when he was living on Kamino.”

“Hmm…” Hondo hummed, taking another bite, “so very interesting. Anyway—" the pirate would save his thoughts for another time, “—continue,” he encouraged.

Tech did not want to continue, but he would do so anyway. “I was steps away from rejoining my squad when I was forced back by enemy fire; I left them temporarily in order to restore the power to the railway, but ultimately was unable to reach them.”

“Ah yes, de rail entu de mountain. I believe I passed under it on my way en,” Hondo interjected. “How unfortunate,” he added; Tech would be reluctant to confirm Hondo felt any true sympathy for his plight.

“The tail end of the railcar was pulled from off its track; it was weighing the other down, and I was caught beneath it, as during the explosion I regrettably slipped.”

Hondo’s eyes were widening incrementally, increasing in circumference with every new detail. “Yes, yes—”

“I was… trapped on the other side, hanging by a literal thread as Imperial V-wings would inevitably make another pass. Not only that, but a second car had stalled on the track opposite; it was filled with Imperial soldiers. The tram would have pulled all of us down had I not disconnected its coupler from the other car.”

“Annnd… how did you accomplish dis?” Hondo asked, jaw working as he nibbled at another bite of roasted fish.

“Plan 99,” Tech said, a twist of sadness wracking his heart as he envisioned the devastated expressions of his siblings as he fell to what he thought would be his demise.

Hondo waited; the forlorn tone coating the clone’s voice was a clear indication that this was indeed a sore subject. The pirate could be patient when he wanted to be; it always paid off in the end.

“Self-sacrifice,” Tech further explained, “for the benefit of the squad.”

Hondo seemed to understand, his gaze hardening as his demeanor became all too serious. “A fall from dat height would… How did you…” he trailed off; Tech wondered if he had just answered his own question. Still, he thought it best to tell the truth regardless. 

“I severed the connection. The railcar fell with me. I landed on top of your ship. The velocity at which you were traveling provided enough distance so that you did not suffer a direct hit, however your engines sustained enough damage that you lost control and ultimately crashed.”

Hondo’s face radiated displeasure, askance eyes tapering into pinched slits, yet for a moment he remained quiet; Tech took the opportunity to try and soften the blow.

“I dove over the edge at the last possible second in order to increase my chances of survival; I fell through the trees and wound up on the forest floor. That is when I awoke to find you attempting to rob me of my boot. It was a calamitous series of events,” Tech concluded, at least satisfied that overall he felt less guilty now that everything was out in the open.

Nothing disturbed the silence that sprawled between them except for the effervescence of the stream behind them. Tech could not read faces particular well, and much less so when he did not have his goggles. After a few more agonizing seconds, birds scattered as Ohnaka let his anger flow freely out of his open mouth.

“What!” the pirate shot up, jerking his arm downward with such intensity as he stood that the rest of his meal slid off his cutlass and hit the ground with a dull, muted smack. Then, he brandished the blade outward, the tip mere centimeters from Tech’s nose. “Den dis is all your fault!”

Tech could only agree. “It was not intentional,” he said, forcing himself to remain calm.

“My ship … my men! Dey are all dead because of you and your brother’s shenanigans!”

“I am sorry.”

“Sorry does not even begin tu cover et! And!” Hondo’s arm bat at the air in his exasperation, though he was gracious enough not to cut Tech’s head clean off with the sword held tightly in his hand. “You made me believe et was de Empire! Dat es almost as bad as lying!”

Tech found it hard to believe the pirate had never himself lied to anyone, though he was at a loss at how to thoroughly apologize when the whole ordeal bad been out of his control. “You were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, or, the right time, depending.”

“Truer words have nevvvver been spoken!” he practically spat, Hondo taking to reclaiming his socks and boots right after he hastily sheathed his sword and retrieved his helmet.

“What are you doing?” Tech asked, a touch of nervousness lacquering his inquiry.

“Leaving! You! Here!” Hondo proclaimed, his outrage present in his hostile tone and erratic body language.

Tech shifted, retrieving his bucket to place it on his head, as if he himself might assay to stand and follow. “We had an agreement,” he informed him, as if he had forgotten.

“Dat was before I knew your gallivanting across de galaxy cost me my most favorite ship! And lives!” Hondo idled for a moment, a look of sorrow stricken across his face. “Fortune and Glory, will we ever meet again…”

Tech stood, ineptly refitting his pack, as Hondo began to march in the direction of what he assumed was the lommite mine without him. “I do not wish to be left here on my own,” he called after his retreating form, swallowing down the hint of anxiety that had begun to spread throughout his chest, joining the ache of his ribs.

“You told me to trust you,” Tech emphasized in a last ditch effort to appeal to his humanity, limping past the remains of the campfire as he ambulated awkwardly forward as quick as his legs allowed.

“And so you did!” the pirate said with a dry, humorless laugh. “Dat, my friend,” Hondo shot back bitterly, “was your second mistake.”

Tech could do nothing as he was left alone, a swirl of crimson the last thing he would witness as Hondo Ohnaka abruptly departed, taking what little hope Tech had left of getting off this planet along with him.

#Hondo Ohnaka #Tech #TBB #Tech tbb #The Bad Batch #Clone Wars #Star Wars #fanfiction #my writing #Friends in Low places #clones #pirates #AU #Tech's not dead #clone force 99 #galactic empire #eriadu

[sneezemonster15]

It's hilarious how easy Naruto fans find it to be dismissive or derogatory of Kishimoto. He must have forgotten because I don't see what 'I' want to see, he is a bad writer because shit didn't make sense to 'me', he is misogynistic because Hinata and Sakura are lame female characters, he is fascist because Sasuke didn't get what he wanted, he is a bad storyteller because the end pairings don't have romantic development, he is homophobic because Sasuke and Naruto didn't end up together or worse reasons than that, he is heteronormative because he is Japanese who doesn't know anything about homosexuality.

You have to be on a similar wavelength to understand certain things and some fans obviously aren't. And they blame that on Kishimoto rather than looking into themselves if they got it right. No curiosity whatsoever. Don't wanna find out. Don't wanna think. But right in front of the line when it comes to dissing the creator.

Oh yeah, Kishi must be dumb because you couldn't understand what he wanted to say. Lol. How can you understand love if you don't know what it means? How can you even begin to understand complex feelings and perception when your own are so underexamined?

Don't blame the problems of your lens on the creator. He is a critically well acclaimed creator widely syndicated throughout the world and you on the other hand, are still playing 'She and He sitting in a tree....". Show some damn respect.

I am sure there are many things about the story that trouble you but you haven't spoken it aloud yet because you still wanna keep your bubble intact and keep conforming to whatever social groups you are a part of. Saying it out loud will destroy it. Don't worry, we all do it with something or the other. I am absolutely positive that you know there are things about the story that confirm SNS, I know for a fact that you secretly know it's romantic because you use the same tropes and symbolism for your het romance. You are fooling just like, no one. It's so easy to find inconsistencies and logical fallacies and absolutely avoidable faux pas in your theories, I mean a child can do it. No seriously. And they have lol.

I mean if you wanna argue just for the heck of it, I am sure you will find someone to entertain you. There are many takers of things like that here.

But kindly consider my suggestion. Introspect and be honest. Let your id show. Let it out man, it's high time. We have entered 2023 already and you don't wanna wait longer to stop being so backward and obsolete. It's been much too long.

It doesn't matter what your 'subjective interpretation', is, if it's not the knowledge or perception that it's a love story, it's shit. And wrong. You can 'come at me' for saying that, lol, or not. Can't care less. But that's just it. You will just be wrong.

#naruto fandom #naruto #sasuke #sns #kishimoto #narusasu #sasunaru

[missingmayuri]

Love Stronger Than Steel

A Victorian Era KenMayu Fic

Inspired by this wonderful art by @criminal-sen

Mayuri wandered through his garden of roses, displayed around beautiful sculpted hedges and oak trees. His heels clinked on the floor, tailcoat swaying in the wind with every step he took as he fans himself to cool down from the intense summer heat.

He sighs deeply and thoughtfully, twirling his free hand through the white wig that sat atop his long and luxurious blue hair.

His heart had been forlorn for some time, wandering in a deep dark prison and unable to tell if his love was even reciprocated or being led down into a deep dark dungeon of pain and misery. Mayuri Kurotsuchi, nobleman of the twelfth company was for once lost in his own thoughts.

It had been fourteen moons since he met the blacksmith and his partner baker, a young girl with a passion for sweets. Both were incredibly care free, not really taking their jobs or lives seriously. Originally he thought the behaviour of both parties childish and immature, far beneath a wealthy noble like him. Yet he found himself coming back.

First once every seven moons, then every four and now every two, his heart skipping in his chest each time he layed eyes on the glistening tanned skin of blacksmith Zaraki at work.

He couldn't keep his golden eyes off the fire the larger man worked with, how it made him shine in the dim room he worked in. He couldn't stop looking at the way Zaraki pounded the metal into shape, the hammer in his worn hands insanely powerful behind the might of his muscles. At first Mayuri thought it a mere interest in the craft, a appreciation for the amount of care the larger man seemed to have despite his laid back nature but as of late he found himself closing his eyes at night, mind drifting to the man below his station and wondering if there was more to this feeling then he first thought.

Pondering the thought again had Mayuri stopping in his tracks, looking up to the clouds. It was a glorious day, warm and dry enough for a walk into town. Judging the weather from the clouds was always unpredictable and usually ill advised so he decided it best to take his umbrella for shade regardless, his wig being far too expensive to replace if soiled by sudden rainwater.

He walks to the large silver gates in front of his home with a sudden heavy chest that he was sure wasn't caused by the tight corset he was wearing, grabbing an umbrella as he passed by the front of his home. He wouldn't tell anyone he was leaving today, most other nobles of the other companies mocking him for his repeated visits to the man he wondered if his heart longed for. It had become a rather unpleasant exchange most days, all commenting on his repeated trips. All apart from Shinji Hirako.

Shinji was a nobleman such as he but one more accepting then the rest, once giving the twelfth noble a bunch of expensive lavender to give to Zaraki as a gift. He ended up not accepting though, at that point still in denial and not wanting to offend the blacksmith. Maybe this whole time Shinji knew Mayuri's heart more then he did himself.

He continued to walk through the cobble lined streets of the Soul Society, passing by rows of oil lamps and covered by the shade of his umbrella.

The walk seemed longer left alone with his thoughts but deep down Mayuri knew he needed to sort his affairs, even if he was seen as off one's chump for doing so. He just had to know.

He had to.

Mayuri passed by many building before he reached the town on the Soul Society's outskirts, accompanied still by the familiar clanking of his heels. These buildings were more run down. Not falling apart but smaller and less kept then his mansion and every building he lived around and had come to know in his everyday. At this point he knew each one by the crack in the stone, able to find the blacksmith and baker with ease as he enters without a smile and a worried lower brow.

The bell rings, causing Zaraki to turn and face the noble with a painted face.

"Hey Mr Kurotsuchi. That time for ya to visit me again?"

Mayuri doesn't answer, putting down his umbrella to avoid superstition and looking over the beautifully crafted swords. He was cursing himself in his mind, not thinking this far ahead. Mayuri was a genius commander, never had his troops failed thanks to his strategy and brilliant mind yet right now he found himself stuck on how to proceed, damming the beautiful sweaty man in front of him for clouding both is judgement, assessment and thoughts on the situation. He contemplated leaving, fanning himself to look busy as every possible scenario and option ran through his mind, a scowl on those dark lips of his.

"Oh. My work not to ya liking?"

Snapping from his thoughts quickly Mayuri looks over to Zaraki, slight redness to the white part of his painted face.

"No no sir. Your wares are fine, blinding even"

The comment has Zaraki suddenly smirking, leaning against the wooden table as the apron that laid over his shirtless torso caused Mayuri to cover his rapidly heating cheeks with his fan.

"Say. How about ya help me with this order for horseshoes I got this morn?"

"Why would I..?"

"Unless it's beneath you"

Feeling a bubbling anger deep in his core at the insinuation has Mayuri throwing down the fan and removing his tailcoat, the emotion clearly visible all over his face and in his eyes.

"How dare you?! Nothing is beneath me!"

Making his way past Zaraki and to the steel table has Mayuri finding his words spoke louder then his actions, not knowing what he even had to do. His hands shook in frustration, knowing how stupid he looked to the blacksmith and wondering if his brashness tarnished his image.

Zaraki lets out an amused hearty laugh that echoed off the stone walls, coming to stand behind the smaller man and grabbing his hands from around his waist. Mayuri was stunned, unable to move and letting the blacksmith have complete control.

"Like this"

The towering worker hovers the smaller and softer hands over the tools, picking up a dainty hammer as together they begin to straighten out the metal of the shoes.

The feeling was there again in Mayuri's chest and it was definitely not his corset. He couldn't breathe but it was pleasant. He knew he wasn't going to keel over but it was a thrill that had him gasping for breath a couple times as Zaraki leans his head on his shoulder and close to his neck to be closer to his work.

The tightening in the nobleman's chest was getting far too much, unable to hold things back any longer, turning to the man behind him and kissing him deeply without so much as a thought, almost like being on autopilot. Hands ran down the back of Zaraki's apron while the larger hands gravitated to Mayuri's slender hips. Even if they wanted to part they couldn't, closing their eyes and falling onto the floor as things quickly became more intense.

This felt right and despite his reservations and the difference in class Mayuri, for once in his life, was content and happy and as hands wandered over bodies he found himself smiling genuinely for the first time in years.

Thank you Sen for your amazing art and inspiring this story 💖

#missfics #kenmayu #bleach mayuri #bleach #mayuri kurotsuchi #bleach oneshot #zaraki kenpachi

[sebsxphia]

Sebbie?? My dearest Sebbie?? I was debating on whether or not to send these in because I know my thoughts aren't the smuttiest (although I do have thots I can definitely throw in, lol) and I was a little worried.

You and Preacher!Rhett are living your best lives up in MT, raising Amy as your own, owning your own land with a big timberframe house and making the best of whatever situations you find yourselves in and each season comes with its own little gifts.

Winter for you guys means getting ready for Christmas and the ungodly amount of snow that gets dumped on your town every year. It means Rhett being outside with Amy while she plays in the snow and he drives the plow truck up and down the driveway to make little snowbanks for her and the neighbor kids that live over the hills. It also means a ton of baked goods and prepping the church for the Christmas Eve services and also celebrating your anniversary (you and Rhett got married on Christmas Eve and your preacher was a sobbing mess when he saw you in your red and gold wedding dress and Amy in one that matched yours). He even lets Amy do the honors of putting out the creche that Royal made and gave to you both as a wedding gift and also lets her leave some homemade milk and cookies and a bag of oats for Santa. Rhett's even been known to referee some seriously intense snowball fights with the parishioners' kids after Sunday services are over too (lol).

Spring is without a doubt your favorite time of year. There's tons of animal births on your land and Rhett takes every opportunity to show Amy how to take care of the critters. Spring also means alot of baptisms at the church and Rhett knows that when this happens your baby fever rages out of control along with his breeding kink (Royal and Cecelia took Amy for a little bit and it ended with the two of you doing unspeakable things in just about every room in the house except for the garage since that was just straight nasty, lol). You and Rhett show Amy where the flowers are just beginning to sprout in your garden, where the buds on the fruit trees and bushes in the orchards are just beginning to open up and the grass beginning to get greener.

Summer is always warm and green, bursting with life. Amy will go out with Rhett and gather the grapes, blueberries, raspberries, strawberries, blackberries and huckleberries from the bushes. You love to hang the wash on the line although you've dropped a few things here and there and your large bump gets in the way, but Amy and Rhett are always there to help you. Mason jars full of sweet peach tea are placed in your kitchen while you and Amy wear your prettiest dresses on Sunday, although the church where Rhett preaches is really old and doesn't have central air yet so every single window has to be open to let the cool air in. It's endless days of swimming at the lake and on the hottest nights, ice cream and popsicles at the local food stands along with outdoor movies.

Fall is more homey for the both of you. Yours and Rhett's first baby is born at the house in fall and that's when you work on all your knitting and crocheting. You've made fingerless knit gloves and blankets for you, Amy and many of the people who live at the shelter downtown. Fall means new Sunday school students, especially those in the high school youth groups as well as gathering leaves, acorns and branches to make fall decorations for the church. Rhett may be a man of God, but he absolutely loves Halloween and everything that comes with it. You can't help but admire the way he and Amy utilize the kitchen and all the baked goods they make and you are all more than content to curl up on the big sectional in your living room to watch The Nightmare Before Christmas, Corpse Bride, Casper or even The Goonies which is Amy's favorite.

Sebbie dahling, I know these aren't the smuttiest thoughts/thots in the world but I miss our dear preacher and was thinking about this all day at work (lol).

ohhhhhhh my love! 🥹 i love all of these scenarios/season descriptions so much! i like to think that in another universe, preacher rhett can be like this and he’s not a murderer 🤭 in all universes though, i’m always sure that all preacher rhett wants for you both is a home that you can both call your own and make incredibly special and sweet memories in, as you so perfectly described 🥹 thank you so much for these sweet thoughts my love! mwah! 💌

#💌you’ve got mail #auroralightsthesky <33 #rhett abbott #preacher!rhett abbott

[wheredidalltheusersgo]

The Stranded and The Scaly

Chapter 2 Day 2: Losing optimism.

Geoff awoke to Chris McLean's obnoxious camper-wake-up-call and groaned in annoyance as he covered his ears and tried to get some more sleep. However, he was hungry and he needed to find something edible for breakfast, so he reluctantly got up.

As he stretched, he felt and heard his spine pop a bit. "Aw, fuck..." He breathed. He'll definitely think twice before sleeping in an uncomfortable position again like he did last night. Man, he wished he brought his duffel bag with him.

Wait..... His duffel bag! He must have left it around the docks somewhere! He had a sleeping bag in that thing, after all!

Breakfast could wait, he needed to find that duffel bag!

Granted, he had to stay out of sight so neither Chris or the contestants would spot him.

As Geoff ran through the woods, he kept an eye out for anyone who could alert him to Chris, and when he finally got to where he left his duffel bag, he was panting and seriously out of breath. He hugged the duffel bag and slumped down against a rock. Okay, he found his duffel bag, now he needed to find something to chow down on. Maybe he could find some berries? Nah, too risky. He had zero clue which ones were edible or not. Maybe he could practice his fishing skills? That shouldn't be too hard. He'd already eaten the protein bar he had in his pocket last night, and he wanted to save the extras in his duffel bag for when he couldn't find anything else.

So, fishing it was.

First of all, he needed to put together a makeshift fishing rod. Chris had made them put together tons of cruddy things during their first season! Duncan was great at that kind of thing! And Izzy was great at finding all sorts of things!

....But they weren't here right now, and he missed them.

Geoff sighed sadly as he broke a long, thin branch off a tree. That should make for a decent rod! "Now for the fishing line..." he mumbled to himself as he rummaged through his duffel bag for the little container of dental floss he had packed. Once he found it, he tied one end of the floss to the end of the stick and grinned, he was proud of his handiwork, even if it wasn't much. The tricky part of this little project was finding a decent hook. There wasn't much Geoff could think of using, as there weren't many options.

He eventually gave up on looking for a hook to use and started inspecting the ground to see if he could find a grub or worm to use as bait. Fish liked that kind of stuff, right? As he scouted the ground, he listened to the new contestants doing their challenge of the day. He felt bad for them, stuck in Chris's shitty games.

Soon enough, Geoff was standing on the shore with his fishing rod in action, he really hoped this would work.

After an hour of two of impatience and hunger, he caught a fish and put together a campfire to cook it with. Despite the radiation in the air, the fish seemed pretty normal, and tasted normal! Though, he did wish it had some kind of seasoning.

After his breakfast, Geoff went for a hike in the woods to clear his mind and find somewhere nice to rest when night fell.

Okay, this island was NOT normal in the slightest. The animals were all mutated! While he didn't really like the island, Chris had NO right to disrespect the wildlife like that! The poor things... Bridgette and DJ wouldn't stand for this stuff!

He missed Bridgette and DJ...

He sniffled a bit and wiped any possible tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. "Where ARE you guys?.." he spoke to himself quietly as he kept walking.

As night fell once more, Geoff bundled up in his sleeping bag and rested his head on the duffel bag. At least this was better than yesterday!

He held back tears as he closed his eyes and let sleep reclaim him once more. -----

#total drama #td geoff #geoff td #The Stranded and the Scaly #fanfic #angst!!! #CHAPTER TWO LET'S GO #tdi #total drama island