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#his soul is much more troubled so it makes me feel better by comparison
bosspigeon · 1 year
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made a Raike sim because he soothes my troubled soul
Bonus Raike Traits:
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simplyreveries · 4 months
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I RETURNED >:D🌼
Hi, there! I saw that orders were open so I ran as soon as possible so I could make my own. If it's not too much trouble I would like to request:
Type: Headcanons (Romantic)
Reader: Female
Scenario: Ok, let's go back to the previous scenario from my Jealousy request with Jade, Deuce and Silver. A suitor becomes aware of said boy's feelings so he begins to flirt and be more open in his affections with the prefect until in a bold move, the suitor steals (the first) kiss from the prefect. How would they react or handle the situation?
Man it would be a roller coaster of events and emotions and even chaos xD
If my order does not convince you, you can discard it without problems, but if it doesn't, take your time and without pressure. I hope you have managed to rest after so many requests, you deserve it 💐✍️✨💕
YOU'VE RETURNED! happy to see u again!! love the request,, anything with silver will make me extra happy hehe
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jade leech
oh
he finds it slightly surprising at first that a student is actually willing to do something like that intentionally, right in front of him. it fades into amusement that the student believes he can truly, completely win you over. its genuinely so unnerving the way jade acts especially when the boy is being over the top right in front of him. he knows a lot of people don't particularly like him, but the fact that he would show that is funny.
like i have mentioned previously with jade and his jealousy, he always finds some way to above and beyond what that guy is doing for you. it becomes some sort of rivalry between them, but jade just finds ways to do it better. besides, jade has his own ways and tricks to making him mess up or make some fool of himself somehow most of his attempts look quite embarrassing on the boys behalf.
when he finds out that he took your first kiss he's smiles and is like "oh is that so? how cute fufufu" bless the poor students soul. but seriously, jade will not stop his advances, you and the student aren't even officially together so what's really stopping him? he's more than willing to do what it takes to have him get what he wants, and it just happens to be you.
deuce spade
deuce takes it more immaturely a bit, since he tends to not think thoroughly about what he's going to do he just acts. so, any time when that student is by you being openly flirtatious, he's always there trying to do something to steer the attention away. it always gets him so riled up when the student smiles condescendingly at him knowing full well he's trying to get together with you, when deuce has always had his heart set on you.
will go out of his way more and more to do just that, even if it's something as simple as getting a seat next to you or doing some act of service to you. internally begging but his face clearly shows “don't give this guy the time of day PLEASE” deuce believes you just deserve better and even if he isn't perfect, he knows that he will always do his best to do things that go past your expectations.
in comparison to the suitor, i feel like deuce would definitely have more pure intentions with you— whereas it feels like that student had only amped up his boldness to you out of pure spite and mockery of him. deuce just genuinely wants you and him happily together, y'know— without this guy constantly going after you and show that he can certainly treat you much better than that guy.
feels a sharp pain in his chest when you admit the boy was your first kiss, he tries to be a supportive friend and be happy for you but it's so hard for him in that moment. he desperately wishes that were him. he still stays determined even after, you and the guy aren't actually together- he still will continue to have you give him a chance. he'll prove it!!
silver
he doesn't want to be one for being irrational and being aggressive towards others. but he can't help the way he feels and the anger and resentment towards the boy build up in his chest when he is so obviously trying to win you over right in front of silver. he grits his teeth and gives a stern look; he doesn't say much first but he sometimes may make an attempt to get in between the two of you with his body.
silver doesn't want to feel like he is interfering with you or your happiness though if you find yourself liking the attention and affection from the boy. he loves seeing you happy, it's really all he wants from you— but the fact that it's from someone else in a romantic sense breaks his heart.
so, he is stuck between doing something or silently watching from the side. it depends on how he is feeling or how far the student is willing to go I’d think. at the end of the day though he is solemnly protective over you and is willing to do drastic measures to make sure you're kept safe and away from what he believes could cause you pain, even emotionally with this guy.
knowing that he stole your first kiss did hurt— it felt like he couldn't compete as it felt like he had really won you over. but even then, he never stopped wanting to pursue you. he couldn't help it, he still is stubborn and isn't willing to exactly accept defeat. he'll still find himself actively going out of his way to have you see him instead. besides, he thinks you deserve better and he's more than willing to be that for you.
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vemaro · 4 months
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let’s not do anything hilarious
A link to the master post
Summary: Astarion Ancunin has two objectives whenever he comes to Baldur’s Gate. One: keep Tav happy. And two: keep Callum happy. As of right now, he is failing quite spectacularly at both. Callum vanished under his watch and his mother is in a state of panic. It’s been years since she’s worn that wrecked expression and he never wishes to see it again. The only way to fix that is to locate the boy and bring him to her as quickly as possible.
Pairing: Astarion x Tav (female Tav)
Word count: ~2200
Notes: I can’t seem to get myself to write the thing I want to write, the thing I keep telling myself I should write, so here we are again with a random tidbit. This time we get a little Gale time, featuring @necromosss’s Tav, Mira, stirring up some trouble. If you haven’t seen her art, go check out her blog. She turned me on to the Gale romance. I just hope I did Mira justice.
Enjoy!
This is the single most devastating moment of Tav’s life. Nothing could have prepared her physically or mentally for such an event. Her heart is pounding, her palms are clammy, and her skin is crawling with so much anxiety she could rip it from her body. Even then, that would pale in comparison to pain she feels a in her very soul.
“Oh my gods, where is he?” Her eyes meet Gale’s then Astarion’s respectively. “Where’s Callum?” When neither of the men provide an answer, only stare back with gobsmacked faces, she turns away to start searching. A hand touches her shoulder when she tries to move away and she flinches.
It’s only Gale, who lets go immediately. “Breathe, just breathe, Tav,” he says, keeping a calm and cool head.
She shakes her head. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
“Callum is missing. My son is missing.” Saying it out loud makes it feel worse. Tav clutches onto the fabric of her shirt above her frantic heart. “I should’ve been paying more attention to him. Or holding his hand. He’s so small, Gale. So small. What if someone took him?”
The wizard swats away the suggestion. “I’m sure he merely wandered off after spotting a sparkly bauble or colorful trinket.”
“But what if—”
He cuts her off. “We’ll find him.”
“But—”
He cuts her off a second time, firmly grabbing onto both of her shoulders. Her mouth snaps shut and she stares wide-eyed at her friend. “We will find him, Tav. But I implore you to take a deep breath.” Tav nods profusely inhaling through the nose and exhaling slowly through the mouth. Already some tension leaves her. “There. Much better.”
She takes another breath and at least now she can think straight. “Thank you.”
He smiles at her reassuringly. “Of course. I doubt he got very far. Why don’t you search the immediate vicinity? I shall search further up the road, and Astarion, you can—” It’s only now that they’ve both noticed their other companion is nowhere to be found. “Astarion?”
Curse that blasted vampire.
Astarion Ancunin has two objectives whenever he comes to Baldur’s Gate. One: keep Tav happy. And two: keep Callum happy. As of right now, he is failing quite spectacularly at both. Callum vanished under his watch and his mother is in a state of panic. It’s been years since she’s worn that wrecked expression and he never wishes to see it again. The only way to fix that is to locate the boy and bring him to her as quickly as possible.
Easier said than done.
He wasn’t at any of the stalls near where they were, nor inside any of the shops. It comes as no shock that no one noticed a small child with blue hair passing them by. If Astarion didn’t have to worry about accidentally exposing himself to the sun or drawing too much attention, this would be so much easier. Wave a dagger here, idle threats there and somebody would’ve seen something useful.
He makes a sharp turn down an alleyway when he spots a woman crouching in front of several stacks of barrels. She doesn’t notice him yet, her focus on something, or someone, hidden from his view. “Hello, little one. Are you lost?”
“Y-yes,” a small voice warbles.
He can’t physically see him, but he recognizes that voice. It’s Callum. Callum is over there, to his immense relief. Astarion’s first instinct is to shove the stranger aside, pick up the boy, and run like the hells, but it’s never that easy. This is Baldur’s Gate, the City of Blood, who knows if this woman has good intentions or bad. Astarion hangs back, sliding back behind the corner from which he came, a dagger at the ready, just in case.
He watches as she scoots a little closer. His hold on the hilt tightens. “Can you tell me your name?” she asks.
“No.”
The woman, a drow upon closer inspection, laughs at the timid yet blunt answer. “Smart boy.” Astarion wholeheartedly agrees. “I’m Mira. I’ll help you find your way home, alright?”
“I miss my Mama.”
She stands up and holds out a hand. “I know. We’ll find her together, promise.”
There’s a long pause as Callum thinks of what to do. “O-okay.” A tiny hand comes out from behind the barrels, latching onto her fingers.
She smiles down at him, hoping to coax him out of his hiding spot. “Okay.”
Astarion has no choice but to step in before they can leave. Thankfully for him, the alley is steeped in shadows, so if things get out of hand, at the very least he can close the umbrella in favor of fighting. Astarion clears his throat and slowly walks their way. “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary. He’s coming with me.”
The drow jumps, startled by his sudden appearance. “Stay there,” she whispers. She lets go of his hand, guides him back behind the barrels, and turns to face Astarion. She eyes him up and down. “Can I help you, sir?”
He puts on a charming grin and holds up his hand to show he’s not holding a weapon (it’s up his sleeve). “Ah, but you already did. You found my friend for me. Thank you for your services, but they are no longer needed. Good day.” He motions for her to leave.
She takes a defiant step back, closer to Callum. “Are you his father?”
Astarion resists a grimace, because it’s a stupid question and he can’t say yes. “No,” he grinds out. “I’m a family friend.”
“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” she challenges.
They’re maybe five feet apart, staring each other down, silver glaring up at red. “You don’t,” he deadpans. He looks past her, toward those barrels. “Come out, little bird. It’s time to fly home.”
Out pops that head of blue hair, followed by puffy, red-rimmed eyes. “Asty?”
“The one and only.” His eyes flicker back and forth between the boy and the woman every few seconds. He doesn’t want either of them out of sight. “You had us all worried sick disappearing like that, especially your mother. She’s looking for you right now.”
At the mention of Tav, the little comes out of hiding entirely. The drow woman still stands guard, hand shifting towards a rapier sheathed at her hip. “Mama?” he chirps.
Astarion nods. “Yes. I’ll take you to her.”
A few things happen all at once. Callum tries running towards him, only to be prevented by her. Astarion reveals the dagger up his sleeve because it seems he’s going to have to do this the hard way. Next thing he knows, a strong gust of wind blows him back against a brick wall and then there is a sword being pressed to his throat. The mysterious woman knows magic. And he dropped the dagger when he hit the wall. Perfect. Can this get any worse?
Naturally, he has to make light of everything, if not for himself, but for Callum’s sake. “Let’s not do anything hilarious.”
She presses the blade ever closer, making the cool metal touch just below his Adam’s apple. “Shut it,” she hisses. “I’m not going to let you hurt him.”
She thinks he’s going to hurt Callum? The idea is so preposterous, he could laugh. He restrains himself from doing so because something tells him she won't share his sense of humor. “This is just one big misunderstanding, dear. Lower your weapon and I will gladly explain everything away.”
Her eyes narrow dangerously. “Do not take me for a fool.”
And yet she is a fool. “I would never dream of doing such a thing.”
“How about I just run a stake through your heart, vampire?” His smile drops as a crooked, snaggle-toothed smirk spreads across her face. “Better yet, I can toss you out in the sun over there.”
Well, shit. This is worse.
A gasp from the little boy turns both of their heads. He’s running away, running right past them, running as fast as his little legs can take him, with his arms extended out. “Mama!”
At the end of the alley stands Astarion’s beloved druid, looking regal under the light of the sun. And Gale’s there too, he supposes. “Callum!” She meets him halfway, deftly scoops him into her arms and squeezes him like her life depends on it. “I was so scared.” She cranes her neck to look him over. “What happened? Are you hurt?”
His voice waivers. “I saw a cat and I wanted to pet it, but-but it kept running away. Then I lost you.”
She closes her eyes and thinks of his warmth breath on her neck, his weight in her arms, his heart beating in his chest. “It’s okay.” He’s okay. He’s fine. “You’re not lost anymore. You found me.”
“I love you, Mama.”
Tav presses a kiss into his hair. “I love you, too.” She kisses him over and over again.
The tender moment is broken with an aggravated cough. “Ahem! Not to spoil this heartwarming reunion, but can someone please tell this madwoman to release me?”
The druid flushes with embarrassment. “Sorry,” she calls. She approaches the drow woman, though she still keeps a safe distance back. “Let him go. Please.”
She glares at her captee. “He’s a vampire!”
Gale tries to talk her down. “Ah, yes. We are well aware of this fact, Miss …” He trails off, gesturing for her to fill in the blank.
“Mira,” she says.
“Miss Mira.”
“Just Mira,” she corrects.
“Just Mira.” He slowly saunters over, placing a hand on Astarion’s shoulder. “He’s actually a very good friend of ours and we’d prefer it if you didn’t kill him.”
“He was going to drink from your son!”
The vampire scoffs. “No, I wasn’t!” He pauses. “And that’s not his son!” The thought of Gale and Tav, together, makes him physically ill.
“Hush,” they both snap.
Astarion begrudgingly obeys. There is still a fucking sword at his throat and apparently he’s the only one bothered by it.
This is going absolutely nowhere. Tav steps a little closer so she’s behind Gale but next to Astarion. “Miss—” The other woman opens her mouth, so Tav quickly corrects herself. “I mean, Mira. Mira. I appreciate you looking out for my son, I’ll never be able to properly thank you for that, but there’s no one I trust more with him than the man before you.” She grabs Astarion’s wrist. “Please, release him.”
Mira’s eyes start on Tav then Callum, flit over to Gale, and finally land on the vampire. They’re all staring at her, hope shining in their eyes and it’s too much for her to bear. “Fine,” she groans before sheathing the rapier and crossing her arms.
Astarion brushes off some imaginary dust from his shoulders. “Thank you. It was about time.”
“You’re welcome,” she sneers back.
Tav’s hand is touching his face, turning his head by the chin this way and that, checking for injuries. “Are you hurt?”
He shrugs, playing it of. “I’ll live.”
“Asty, I’ll make it all better.” Tav semi-reluctantly hands him over to Astarion, who readily accepts the boy. “I’ll give you a magic kiss like Mama gives me.” And he does, right on the cheek, and then Callum hugs him around the neck.
Astarion catches a glimpse of a beaming Tav over the boy’s shoulder and feels his heart melt with sentimentality. Gods below, he has gone soft over the years and these two are to blame. With a sigh, he pats the boy’s back. “Thank you, little bird. I think it’s working.”
So Callum’s fine. Astarion’s got him. Tav feels secure enough to turn her attention back to Mira. “Thank you for protecting my son. Please, let me give you something for your trouble.” She digs into her satchel and pulls out a small pouch heavy with gold coins. “Here. Take this.”
Mira stares at the pouch for a moment, but takes a step back. “It was no trouble at all. Keep your gold.”
The druid is a persistent one. “Then allow me to buy you a meal. Please. I do insist. Please.”
Mira is not immune to those big, doe eyes. She throws her hands up, resigning herself to her fate. “Sure. Why not?”
Tav’s face lights up. “Yes! Perfect. Thank you. I know this place not too far from here—”
“I’m sorry. You expect me to endure a meal sitting across from someone who just tried to kill me?”
Tav chuckles dryly. “I’ve done it.”
Astarion spins around. “What? When did you—” But then he stops mid sentence to cringe. “Oh … right …” She’s referring to the first time he fed on her. He was one gulp away from going too far. Tav passed out from the blood loss and he stayed up the rest of the night to make sure he hadn’t unintentionally killed her. The next morning she sucker punched him. It was very much warranted. “Have I told you how lovely you look in that color, darling?”
She rolls her eyes. “That’s what I thought.”
Mira leans over and stage whispers to Gale. “Um, so what’s the story behind that?”
He arches an eyebrow at the query. “To what are you referring to?”
She looks back over at the trio. Tav is fussing over both of her boys, repeatedly asking if they’re okay, they’re unharmed, they’re fine. Mira tilts her head in their direction. “Them.”
The wizard follows her gaze then sighs. “One lunch isn’t a sufficient amount of time to explain that … mess.”
“Is that so?” She clasps her hands behind her back and bites her lip. “Sounds like a good excuse to meet up again.”
Gale’s face burns bright red. “O-oh.” He starts fiddling with his coat, the buttons, the cuffs, anything to distract him from openly gaping at the beautiful woman currently speaking to him. “I-I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea.”
“It’s a date?”
He offers her a shy smile as a confirmation. “It’s a date.”
Thanks for reading!
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the significant lack of parents in Soul Eater and how the DWMA combats that
obviously, there are some parents present throughout the entirety of Soul Eater, but they truly are not amongst the greatest: Medusa, Spirit, Lord Death (he's okay in comparison to everyone else, but still not dad of the year). i started this just wanting to talk about how there are almost no parents and then ended up realizing some sorta nice things about the DWMA by the end of it. manga spoilers, so beware.
characters who have living parents
let's start with Maka since she's the only one who has one parent present and one parent mentioned in somewhat detail. Spirit certainly is quite the character; he has almost no redeemable qualities except for the fact that he does actually love and support his child. that's all good, and yet he cannot correct his behavior to actually make himself a person that his daughter will respect. he cares so much and yet he does nothing to try and be a better father for her and what she actually needs from a parent.
but then we have Maka's "wonderful" unnamed mother. great mom, great meister, never given an example as to what this woman could really be like. i haven't been into Soul Eater for super long and i'm sure there are definitely people who have been shitting on Maka's mom, but it's interesting to me purely because even though there aren't many parents in Soul Eater to begin with, there is an even more extreme lack of mothers. i'm going to get nebulous with the definition throughout this post, but it really just seems like the "idea" of a good mother is all the characters get. Maka only gets memories of how great her mother was, maybe because she truly wasn't that great in the first place. a meister who made a death scythe is never to be seen throughout the greatest threat of all time within the past 800 years, not even to check on her one daughter? maybe she's busy? sure. idc what she's doing, but that's a strike out for me.
moving away from Maka's dubious parents, let's look at Kid and Lord Death. in truth, he's not nearly as bad as the other parents in terms of actual parenting, but he is clearly much different in relation to the other parents. he's not human, he's in charge of seemingly their entire world, and Kid is essentially just a chunk of Lord Death that was given sentience. with that, we have to think of exactly what is it that death gods even need in order to be raised. since Asura was a failed attempt, Kid was specifically "born with a childish nature so he [could] learn fear, much like humans" (DTK Soul Eater Wiki page). am i really citing a source in my Tumblr post, is this who i am. SO, thinking about what death gods are meant to do with their power and the fact that they are meant to keep balance in the world, i'd say that Lord Death did a pretty good job of getting Kid to become the best death god he could be. when it comes to actual "normal" parenting standards, idek if we can hold Lord Death up to those since they both are very much not normal. keeping Kid in the dark about some insanely important details about the academy (the Kishin in the basement) and letting Kid know that Lord Death would die when he awoke his true powers, maybe not the best choice, but i'll admit that i'm an extremist when it comes to people keeping important secrets that could have saved everyone a lot of time and trouble.
actually, i take some of my positive statements back when thinking about how Lord Death handled Asura. i know Asura was all powerful and just sort of super insane, but given the fact that Asura was a failed attempt of a fragment and Kid was Lord Death's way of trying again, it feels kind of wrong to give him a title of Decent Dad when his first attempt at making a young death god ended up so so so messed up. also, making a second one just in the hopes of solving your first mess up, kinda fucked up.
anyways, Tsubaki! she's honestly very interesting because we know that both of her parents are alive, but we see almost NOTHING about them. the only time we actually see her dad is in chapter 49 and that's basically it. her mom is mentioned, but we never even get to see her or get her name, so once again there is just no mother present at all and just the "idea" of her. given the fact that they pretty much neglected their other child to the point that he became a serial killer because he wasn't treated the same as Tsubaki, i can't give them much credit for good parenting. maybe Tsubaki came out okay and mild-mannered, but Masamune straight up just got neglected and went bonkers because of it.
and now we reach the grand finale of horrible present parents, Crona and Medusa. debated about putting her in the "dead parents" category, but Medusa is alive for the majority of Soul Eater, so she can stay here. obviously, Medusa's the absolute worst. she literally never has any good intentions for anything she does with Crona, she's extremely manipulative, blatantly abusive, etc. she literally dangles the concept of being a good mother in front of Crona to get them to obey her and in the end that gets her killed (and yet that STILL was part of her plan. she's literally insane). she also tricks other people into helping her by pretending she's worried about Crona. she contributes the mother "idea" again, though this time she is very present, just not as a good mother. i won't go into all the shit that Medusa did, we all know she was horrible. i go into more of Medusa's manipulation in this post.
characters who have dead parents
Black☆Star, i think, is the only character of the main cast that has confirmed dead parents. he never knew any of his clan and sort of renounces them (maybe renounce isn't the right word, but his whole character arc about choosing his own path and defeating Mifune makes it somewhat clear that he doesn't want to end up like his parents). we know about his father, White☆Star, but once again, the mother is never mentioned. from what we're shown . . . yeah, the Star clan sucked and were obsessed with power and whatnot. it's an interesting contrast with Tsubaki: they both come from very well known family lines with very different connotations surrounding them. to an outsider who knows about both of their families, it probably seems a bit sacrilegious for Black☆Star to be partnered with her in the first place.
characters whose parents are MIA
Liz and Patty at least have an "unnamed woman" shown as their mother for a single panel in chapter 78. the "prettiest prostitute in New York" obviously didn't do much to raise them since they were the Brooklyn Devils for a while. no mention of a father and an evidently absent mother, we are once again hit with the "idea" of a mother that isn't there. Liz literally says she hates her mother, thanks her for bringing her and Patty into existence, and nothing else is said about her. it's only after they get sorta "drafted" by Kid that they get to live a pleasant life. there's obviously also some things to say about economic status and being dealt a bad hand in life and whatnot, but i can get into that another time i think.
now, Soul. homie has got NO PARENTS EVER MENTIONED. the closest we get is Wes and unnamed grandma who is never shown. he's literally the only character we don't get shit for who his parents are, where they are, if they're even living and i think that speaks volumes. going off of assumptions, the fact that Soul literally renounced his family name, ran away to go to weapon school, and didn't play the piano for years until he was able to do it, sort of, on his own terms most likely means that his parents were some kind of horrible. also, being forced to play into a family legacy has got to be unhealthy. always feeling overshadowed by your older sibling who, obviously, has more experience is upsetting, but the fact that Soul was seemingly never reassured about his skills is dubious at best. i have strong feelings about forcing children into family legacies, maybe that can be its own post some day as well, and if your kid feels like they actually have to run away to escape it, well then i don't think it works out very well. it's incredibly important that we don't get any parental information from Soul and that we never hear anything about anyone from his family looking for him. maybe he told them he was leaving, but maybe he just slipped away and nobody bothered to look for him.
actual parental figures
while writing this, i realized that everyone in this category is a DWMA professor. DWMA as a whole seems to provide all of the main cast with a place to be that was much better than where they came from. Black☆Star and Maka sort of grew up in and around the DWMA, Soul, Liz, and Patty all came from much worse places before enrolling, Tsubaki and Kid kinda seem like they were chilling tbh, and of course Crona literally experiences positive emotions for the first time during their short time there. schools, ideally, should give their students the opportunity to grow in their skills and find a community with the students and teachers so that they can have an overall positive experience.
Marie is definitely the best example of this and despite the fact that she isn't even a mother (i refuse to acknowledge the unborn baby in chapter 113, most of that chapter is a black stain in my memory that even bleach couldn't remove), she is easily the healthiest mother figure in the entire series. she actually cares about the students even though she was initially reluctant to be a teacher. she worries about their wellbeing, she talks to them about their problems, and overall she is the closest to that "idea" of a mother that keeps showing up. i think part of this is because she sort of realizes that she has this power of being a teacher and a death scythe, but also there are points where she realizes she can't be reckless because she has to be there for the students (thinking specifically about the tempest and how she knows she can't go back in there to save them). she leaves an impression on Crona and she's one of the few people they actually remember Medusa's second wave of experiments she does on them. Crona saw her as a good, supportive person and it continually haunts them that they betrayed her. it's the exact opposite relationship they have with Medusa; Marie is only kind and understanding to Crona when they expect betrayal and hatred, and Medusa is only cruel when all Crona needed was some sort of . . . well, anything healthy.
Stein is interesting to me because he's more of a fun uncle than a "father" in my eyes. he doesn't coddle his students and sometimes he's a bit harsh with them, but this is purely because he knows they can achieve things they don't realize they're capable of. by the end of the manga, he fully acknowledges that, wow, these kids are pretty good at all of this!!! and i taught them this shit!!! go kids!!! now, all of this being said, i do not think he could be a real, healthy father unless someone sucked out all the madness in his brain out with a straw. even with no madness, i doubt he'd want kids because he's got all these spunky students to supervise. this is also why i refuse to acknowledge the chapter 113 unborn baby, i think Stein would know he couldn't be a father and gave himself a vasectomy.
finally, i want to talk a bit about Sid. i wish so badly that the manga went into some more detail about him practically raising Black☆Star after the DWMA eliminated the Star clan. they don't treat each other like father and son, but it's clear that Sid at least cared enough to make sure he was raised and trained well. it makes the mission where Sid and Naigus go into the Arachnophobia lab to destroy the machine and Black☆Star shows up kind of more interesting since Sid's like "Whoever that student is, thank god they're here" and then he's like "Wait a damn minute, that's MY student." it's also nice to see when Sid's proud of him and whatnot. i just like this dynamic they have where it's like not fully familial, but they're more than just a mentor and mentee.
in an attempt to come to a final point, i that the DWMA really gives something to all these characters that they needed and lacked in their familial situations. sounds cheesy and it is, but i find it so nice that such a pleasant and supportive school structure is found in a universe in which people turn into weapons and fight horrors and the school is training all these kids to fight horrors. Maka gets to chase after these legendary stories she's heard about her mother, and becomes arguably more successful than her mother. Soul gets the chance to make his own path outside of the family name he's abandoned and also gets to reclaim his music along the way. Black☆Star and Tsubaki get to be this duo that allows them to kind of get out of these super old expectations of their bloodlines and by working together they get to subvert these expectations and prove people wrong about the type of people they want to be. Liz and Patty got to escape the shitty holes they'd been born into and actually be people they were proud of. Kid was able to actually understand other people, to an extent, and it made him capable of becoming the next death god. The actual human kindness that Crona was shown there is eventually what lets them sacrifice themself for everyone else since they know that it will bring good in the end. the students in Soul Eater may have some real shit parents, but the DWMA is apparently there to fill in the void of those parents.
thank you for joining me for another long af Soul Eater post. i think my next endeavor will be tackling how the manga timeline works, b/c it's pretty fucked up imo
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ruins-posts · 3 years
Note
Umm, do you write fluff alphabet? could you do it for Sebastian Michaelis from black butler?
It's alright if you don't, sorry for the trouble.
🤍 Sebastian Michaelis Fluff Alphabet 🤍
Activities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?
Sebastian would love to spend time with some of his feline friends with your company, the two of his most favourite creatures on Earth. Sebastian also enjoys taking long strolls along with you, engaging in some deep and meaningful conversation.
He enjoys teaching, and so he'll always be up to teach his s/o something new that they've been wanting to learn or something he feels they should learn. He'll probably end up showing off his skills though.
Beauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?
Sebastian is beyond petty concepts such as physical attractiveness, if his s/o's personality has managed to intrigue and interest him, he will greatly admire that. He'll admire how your personality stands out compared to the other human beings, your unique traits and interests, the way you view the world, and above all, your ability to love a monster like him.
Comfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down?
Sebastian will give you your space to figure out things on your own, but if you require his comfort and support he will immediately rush to your side, providing you with any and every thing you need. He will listen to all your feelings if you're willing to pour them out, he's more than willing to provide you with a shoulder to cry on.
Even though he doesn't understand the complexity of human emotions, he's learned comfort mechanisms over the years.
Dreams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?
Given the current situation, he does not see his relationship with you evolving at all. However, if a miracle happens and the contract does reach an end, he might drag you to hell with him.
Equal - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?
No, Sebastian will not see you as his equal or as superior to him. Humans are lowly creatures, and to be honest, you're no exception. He's definitely the dominant one, but he is also very respective of you.
Fight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?
Sebastian has a good amount of control over his wrath, he won't speak anything till he feels it's absolutely necessary. He'll be fine if you aplogise to him, but it's never the other way around. You'll never get an apology from him, he's too proud to say sorry.
Gratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?
He is always aware of the littlest of things you do for him, and he will even try to return your gestures. The return of gestures is mostly done in physical forms, such as hand holding, kisses, cuddles, and sometimes when you're lucky he'll even bake you a few sweets and make you some tea. None of your affections go unnoticed.
Honesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?
Oh dear, he has millions of secrets that he keeps hidden from you. Mostly because they're horrifying and could give you nightmares for days, they're secrets your frail human mind might not be able to handle.
Inspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?
Not really, the only change that came in him after he met you was that he felt a slight amount of love in his cold, ruthless heart, and he was willing to protect someone outside of a contract.
Sebastian usually has no personal problems, even if he did he's perfectly capable of finding the solutions on his own. He'll not want to burden you with his problems.
Jealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?
This demon is possessive of what belongs to him, and so he absolutely won't stand it if someone's trying to steal you from him, they will be annihilated.
Kiss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?
There's no questioning Sebas-chan's kissing skills, he's excellent. He'll always leave you craving for more. His kisses are the most passionate, rough and yet gentle.
The first kiss was probably planned out by him, even though you were oblivious to it. He took you out for a peaceful evening walk in the gardens, and it naturally happened in the flow of the moment. The two of you leaned in till your lips met, and he pulled you closer to him deepening it.
Love Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?
After the very first kiss that the two of you shared, Sebastian would tell you that he holds some amount admiration for you and that does not consider you as just another pest human. That's it, that was his confession.
Marriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?
Sebastian doesn't think that marriage is necessary for you two to become closer, but if you want be wedded to him, he will gladly do it. The function won't be a grand or an official one, just the two of you simply declaring your vows to each other.
He'll only marry you after his current contract is over, though.
Nicknames - What do they call their s/o?
You'll be called regular nicknames such as 'darling' or 'my love', but his favourite is surely 'kitten'.
On Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?
This butler is a master of masking his emotions, nobody will get even the slightest of hint that he's in love with somebody. Though when he's alone with you, he'll allow himself to be vulnerable and show how much he loves you quite freely.
PDA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?
Sebastian won't be very affectionate in public, and will prefer to keep his relationship a secret to maintain his 'perfect butler' image in front of people.
He's won't mind occasional hand holding and kisses when nobody is looking though.
Quirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.
He's simply one hell of a butler, but I'm pretty sure he can give you a glimpse of heaven, if you know what I mean ;)
Romance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy?
Quite romantic. He'll romance you all he can in his free time. He's an affectionate demon, in his alone time he's always in physical contact with you in one way or the other.
He'll study through human romantic gestures for you, even though he finds them silly. But as long as you're happy, he'll do anything.
Support - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?
Yes, he will support you unconditionally. And trust me, if he believes in you and says you can do it, you can. He won't give you false hopes and motivate you to do things that are beyond your capabilities.
He's willing too help you if you ever need it. It's a pleasure to him when he's the reason behind your success.
Thrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?
Sebastian will leave that up to you. If you like routine, he'll stick to it. However, if you believe that you need to try out new things to spice up your relationship, he'll do that as well.
You'll have to specify what exactly you want to do to spice it up though, ask and he will bring it to you.
Understanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?
He can read human emotions to some extent, but he won't be able to figure out what exactly is bothering you. If you're vocal about it, he will absolutely help you put. He's always putting in effort to understand you better.
He's a demon, empathy is something he absolutely will not feel. A tiny bit of sympathy might arise, but don't expect him to be empathetic.
Value - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?
After his young master, you are his second priority. You hold an important position in his life, but he will never put you before his young master. He's bound by contract to him, after all.
You are the only one who can make him feel the slightest bit of emotion, filling his heart with a strange warmth he has never experienced. Being a demon he must consume souls as food, and other than that, you're the other thing important in his life.
Wild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.
Being a demon, he doesn't require sleep, but he does love to lie down and watch you beside you as you sleep. The sight of your chest falling and rising rhythmically and your peaceful face fills him with a peaceful feeling. He only wonders what sleep feels like to humans.
And he loves to coddle you while you're fast asleep. He finds the sight rather cute.
XOXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?
Sebastian is fond of expressing himself through physical touch, so a certain amount cuddles and kissing is involved. He won't admit it but he misses your touch when you're not around.
Kissing you is one of his favourite things to do. The sight of your flushed face and heavy breathing after he's done with ravaging your lips fills him with pride.
Yearning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?
He'll try to lose himself in his work, and even seek the company of his beloved cats. He actually won't miss you unless you're going away for too long, and in that case, secret visits are guaranteed.
Zeal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?
Yes, you hold an important place in his cold heart, and he's grown rather fond of you. He'll go any lengths to keep you with him and protect you, because you're the only one who he's willing to make himself vulnerable to.
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studiojeon · 3 years
Text
bitterness in goodbye | jjk
this is part of my troubled outsiders series. sadly, you can't read this as a stand alone (meaning: feel free to check the previous parts ♡)
| summary | - You can’t help but feel a little sad when Jungkook doesn’t refrain from cuddling your arm after pleading to forgive him. You wish you could cuddle him instead, that he would lay his head on your chest as you play with his soft hair, but you recognize there are some things you just can’t have.
warnings: none (?) i mean chaeryeong insults jungkook which is an atrocity in itself but-
contents: we diving into the angst my friends. jungkook is an innocent, kind hearted soul, i promise. oc's got the feels (out oct. 1) for jk. idol!jungkook × student!reader.
author's note: I EDITTED THIS FROM MY PHONE DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW FUCKING ANNOYING THAT IS? also, thank u for the amount of support i've been receiving lately, i appreciate everyone lots. feel free to ask away or suggest anything btw, i would love to write for any prompts you guys come up with. 💞💗💖💘💓💕
words: 1.57k
playlist: honey by halsey
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Four weeks later, the receptionist of your apartment complex hands you over a cardboard box with the hoodie Jungkook and you had talked about that day on the Han River. Jungkook kept pestering you to please please please send him your address for confidential purposes, which you knew had to do with his determination to literally provide anything that catches your eye right away. You assumed it was a sensitive topic for the boy whether people had purposefully taken advantage of his money before, so you didn’t dare to say anything when the man asked you for your size literally two hours after he dropped you off, scared to either reject his solidare intentions or piss him off for bringing unwanted memories back. In  your defense, your personality type keeps oscillating between INFP and INFJ so it’s only natural that you take extra care to make sure those around you have as much peace of mind as possible in your presence. 
As pretty and comfortable the piece of soft clothing is, an important factor is missing, something that you can’t recreate buying two of the same size and color, and that is Jungkook's escence and how good it looks on him in comparison to anyone else in the world. Meaning, you didn’t like it as much as you thought initially would. And it absolutely did not have to do with the fact that your short stature made you look like a toddler who stole their dad’s jacket.
Still, in order to show Jungkook how much you appreciate his gift, you bring it to work the next day, and the rest of the days after that, with the excuse that with winter rolling around you needed something to keep you warm in the office. Jungkook doesn’t miss the opportunity to confirm your assumptions regarding your appearance whenever he barges into your office randomly throughout the week, arguing that ”you look so adorable” and doesn’t stop for two weeks more, until he gets used to seeing you wearing something you shared with him. Which doesn’t help ease your growing romantic feelings for him whatsoever.
Because yeah, you liked Jeon Jungkook, just like every human being with eyes and sexual desires, except, you didn’t just like him in a superficial way, and that’s where the problem with him resides. Though you are sure everyone has fallen in love with the endearing boy at some point - especially the excluded and invalidated women of society - you can’t help but place some blame on you for allowing yourself to be swooned so goddamn easily. Your mom had said to you at some point to be wary of the way some men would talk to you when you grew up, their intention usually being getting inside your pants, which has happened to you more times than you'd like to admit. And with the argument that she knew you better than anyone, she claimed you would comply right the second someone talked sweet to you; you despised the fact that was the case with Jungkook (and Jungkook only), although he had never shown any sexual innuendos. What your feelings could do to your relationship with Jungkook and your rather chill lifestyle scared you to death, shiver me timbers and all that shit, having romantic feelings for someone else is embarrassing, especially when your chance with them has been scratched out the second you laid eyes on them.
Jungkook sits on your couch, legs spread on your thighs as you two pretend to watch some series on netflix. “I don’t buy for a second the act you’re putting on right now.” he speaks randomly after staring at your deep-in-thought state for a few minutes and laughs when you snap at him for not letting you overthink in peace. “What’s going on?”
Truth is, you don’t fucking know. A few hours before he arrived at your place (you had to pick him up at the dorm and sneak the both of you through the subterranean parking lot, because god forbid someone saw Jungkook arriving at some chick’s dorm on a saturday afternoon) you swore you would be able to conceal whatever emotional turmoil you had going inside of you without compromising your regular behaviour around the man, but when push comes to shove, it’s impossible to keep yourself from wondering how far you could go before that special someone found out what was going on inside of your head.
Jungkook’s phone rings in his pocket with some annoying tone he had downloaded illegally from youtube the same day the company had handed over the device as a gift for him (you still were a little bitter over how they neglected the rest of the staff but you also knew it was kind of impossible for the human kind to just gift a-thousand-dollar-phones to almost five hundred people out of solidarity). “Hyung?” he picks up, still wary of your unusual behaviour, concerned eyes looking at you. “No, uh- i’m with Yugyeom right now.” and your heart shatters into a million pieces.
You have been suspecting for a while that Jungkook is being hesitant to introduce you to his social circle. Although, you’ve tried your best not to take it personal, it is getting harder to resist the urge to ask him what the fuck is up with that. The fact that Jungkook had to lie about the person he was hanging out with broke your ego; he could’ve just said he was with a friend, right? You suddenly feel like you’re fifteen again, when the guy you liked would love you in the dark but pretend he didn’t know you in the light. 
Holding your tears back, you gently push him off and make your way towards the bathroom in the most nonchalant way you could. This is your fault for falling for the nice popular guy in the first place, you remind the reflection staring back at you. Still, as bad as it hurt, there was no way you were going to cry over a stupid boy, let alone when he was literally sat on the next room. He can go fuck himself if he thinks he can just toss this behind as if nothing ever happened.
You text Chaeryeong instead.
“chaery bom bom: i swear to god i gonna throw hands the next time i see the bitch.
chaery bom bom: like who the hell does he think he is? fucking squidward looking asshole.
chaery bom bom: he ain’t even that cute bub, you’ll get over him. i know jinyoung wouldn’t treat you like this”
You sigh. Chaeryeong has been enamored with the idea of you and his former company colleague from GOT7 since the day she met the guy (which was somewhere around ten years ago), and although he was all that, you didn’t like his quiet and cold aura, it intimidated the fuck out of you (Jungkook was the entire opposite of that).
You spray on some perfume just to have an excuse as to why you randomly ran to the bathroom when Jungkook’s inquiring eyes stare as you sit back on the couch, which is exactly what he does. “You done with your call?” you ask, bitter.
Jungkook frowns, a bit taken aback by the sudden question but still unaware of the way his words had made you feel, not even sensing the hostile change in your mood. “Yes, it was one of our managers. He was wondering if I could come back to reshoot some...-thing.”
Okay, now you kind of understand as to why he lied in the first place and to say you feel guilty is an understatement. “I supposed he backed down once you mentioned you were hanging out with Yugyeom.” playfulness makes its appearance on your tone and Jungkook rolls his eyes at you, tongue poking on the inside of his slightly red cheeks.
“Sorry for that” he moves closer and cuddles your arm, like a sad guilty puppy. “It’s just- I don’t want them asking questions''.
You understand. He is a very reserved and private person after all. It took you a bit to crack him open yourself. Plus, you kind of share that trait with him, you’d hate it too if people were constantly on your nerves for the people you decide to hang out with. 
And that’s all it takes to forgive him. Not very cash money of you.
“You better not pull that shit again, though” you shift in his hold and he looks up at you. One look into your eyes and he knows what you mean. “I’ll kick you out.”
After nodding, Jungkook resumes his concentration on the series you picked out for him. Due to your short attention span, you are very picky about what you invest your time in, especifically with audiovisual pieces of media, so Jungkook trusts you whenever you recommend something on very rare occasions. As a matter of fact, Jungkook was busy attacking your kitchen counters for snacks (which you didn’t have) when you mentioned Money Heist. “Munch on some grapes instead” you suggested to soothe his disappointment.
You can’t help but feel a little sad when Jungkook doesn’t refrain from cuddling your arm after pleading to forgive him. You wish you could cuddle him instead, that he would lay his head on your chest as you play with his soft hair, but you recognize there are some things you just can’t have.
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jackrrabbit · 3 years
Text
🤍 Haikyuu WIP excerpts
preview post for hq because recently i showed sara a list of my works in progress and she laughed at me and then made a dn joke like this is 2015 or something. we got:
🤍 communal property /// ushijima x f!reader x tendou 🤍 sunshower /// atsumu x f!reader x osamu 🤍 corporate ethics /// kuroo x f!reader
anyway these are all terrible first drafts and i'm not sorry. however i am very very into these pieces and if you're interested in seeing them finished, you should tell me fr fr
🤍 communal property /// Ushijima x f!Reader x Tendou
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Summary: Tendou shares everything with Ushijima—his food, his dorm room, even the AVs he likes. Why not his girlfriend, too?
Tags/warnings: poly relationship in progress (only you and Tendou are dating at this point), mild suggestiveness ??, s*ze k*nk
Status: 10k words written (holy fuck lol) out of ~11k total? this bitch better get finished is2g
After the match, your voice is hoarse from screaming but you still manage to yell congratulations for your boyfriend when you meet him and Ushijima outside the locker room in the stadium. You’re pumped on the adrenaline of the game, so you don’t even protest like you usually would when Tendou picks you up in the middle of your hug and lifts you off the ground effortlessly. “How was I? Awesome, right? I told you we would beat them!”
“You did, you so did—“ Even though your throat hurts, you can’t help gushing about every rally, every soul-crushing block, every impossible spike. “—and then the guy on the left thought he was clear to shoot it but you just—“ You throw your arms in the air and mime hitting the ball down like a blocker. “Wha-bam!—and the look on his face! I thought he was going to punch you!”
Tendou laughs and lays a sloppy kiss on your cheek, just as thrilled as you are by the win. “You really liked it that much? I thought you weren’t into sports.”
“I loved it! You were so cool! I can’t believe I’m dating someone so cool!” You wrap your legs around his back and hug his face close to yours, reveling in the fact that this weirdo belongs to you wholly and entirely, that you get to have him to yourself (well, other than his roommate). “And I’m not into sports, I’m into you.”
Tendou smiles in a way that makes the sides of his eyes crinkle up and little red patches bloom over his cheeks, a look that says, I like you so much (Y/N), I like you I like you I like you, except he’s probably trying not to be mushy like that since Ushijima is standing off to the side.
You feel a little bad for ignoring him (no one likes being the third wheel, even if he never shows signs of caring) so when Tendou sets you down you turn to Ushijima. “And you! Holy shit, Tendou said you were good, but I didn’t know you were that good. The ball when you hit it was super loud—honestly, how are your hands okay? If I hit it that hard I’d probably break something.”
“My hands are fine…this is normal for me.”
But just because you’ve got them here in front of you and you’re still pumped from the exhilaration of the win, you can’t help grabbing Ushijima’s hand and flipping it palm-up to inspect. True to his word, there’s no redness, just the calluses he’s built up on his long fingers. “Wow.”
“You don’t need to worry about Wakatoshi,” Tendou tells you, grinning and then making a face. “He’s a monster, he can handle it.”
“No kidding. You’re both monsters.” You put the base of your palm up against Ushijima’s to gauge the size of his hand against yours, and without prompting Tendou grabs your other hand to press against his own. Tendou’s fingers are a bit longer, but Ushijima’s are…thicker, more solid. Your hands look like a little kid’s in comparison. “Can I be honest? Half the time I was thinking I actually feel bad for the other team. If I had to take on both of you at the same time, I’d probably cry.”
You’re (mostly) joking, but it’s still a complete shock when you see the side of Ushijima’s mouth curl up a tiny bit. You’ve known each other for months at this point, but you’ve never seen him smile until now. Half of you is wondering if this is some kind of optical illusion caused by the atmosphere and the dim light of the stadium cutting through the evening, but the other half of you enjoys it. You made Ushijima smile. You did that.
“Don’t sell yourself short, (Y/N).” Ushijima says, tipping his head to the side.
“Yeah!” Tendou chimes in, resting his chin on top of your head and folding his arms around your neck from his place behind you. “I’m sure you could take both of us. Right, Wakatoshi?”
So that’s probably a sign.
🤍 sunshower /// Atsumu x f!Reader x Osamu
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Summary: [Kitsune AU] You find an old Ō-Inari shrine in the woods that may not be as abandoned as it looks.
Tags/warnings: Shinto religion, this preview is biased toward tsumu oops, yearning/soft vibes
Status: 3.9k words written out of 5–6k? total
Atsumu was the one who found you.
That’s how he likes to talk about it, that he found you, like you’d still be wandering around lost in the woods if it weren’t for him. Osamu thinks you would have found your way back home eventually but Atsumu likes it better this way, this framing that makes it seem like they saved you.
It’s hard for him to tell time linearly the way humans do but you mention once that you’ve known them for a year and that seems to fit. It’s spring now, almost barely tipping into summer, and it was spring when Atsumu found you. He remembers because of the way it was raining: light and tender, a summer rain early in the season, each little drop tapping off a leaf and then rolling into the forest bed to be eaten up by the grass and the soil.
Atsumu likes the rain, likes the sweet earthy smell it makes and the way the plants look so lush and green and alive, like they’d bleed if he sunk his teeth into them. He was out in the woods because of the rain ('Samu was in the shrine, as usual, attempting to set buckets under the millions of holes in the roof so the rainwater wouldn’t pool and rot through the wood underneath). But Atsumu was half asleep in a tree when he heard you crashing through the undergrowth, tripping over ferns and snapping every twig in your path (thought ya might be a bear, he tells you later, that’s how loud ya were) but he wouldn’t really have woken up if he hadn’t heard you singing.
(The odd thing is, you weren’t actually singing. You remember that day as vividly as they do: the warm, humid air making your skin feel sticky under your yellow raincoat; the tiny raindrops filtering through the canopy and kissing your cheeks; the ink feathering out on the damp xerox of the old map you found in your great-aunt’s attic so you could barely make out the “X” that was supposed to mark the location of the lost Inari shrine… You were cursing how stupid you’d been to go on a wild goose chase into the mountains with no cell service and no marked trail to look for a shrine that no one had seen in decades. You definitely weren’t singing.)
But Atsumu remembers it differently. No matter how many times you explain that you were just talking to yourself, when he replays the sound of your voice back then (reaching and lilting and falling, the way the birds talk to each other in the early morning, except the music of it was poured into syllables and words), it sounds like you’re singing. He wasn’t sure at first, hadn’t heard a voice that wasn’t Osamu’s in so many years that he gets tired counting them, but then he saw you push into view from between two bushes and he thought, a human!
A girl, too—it was hard to say at first because you were wearing that weird, slick jacket of yours, so bright yellow it was like an oversized flower blooming out of the grass, but then you tilted your head up to feel the rain on your face and the hood fell down and he knew. Not just a human, a girl! Atsumu wanted to yell for Osamu, make him come and confirm that there was a person wandering around not a mile from the shrine. A real person! Singing and smiling and wiping the rain off her cheeks (does that mean you like the rain, just like he does? did you come out to feel it too?) But he also wanted to surprise Osamu so he hid his tails and his ears and came down from the tree and asked if you had lost your way in the forest, since you were so far from any path…
When you think back on this yourself you’re amazed that you just went with him: a strange boy (man?) wearing a fox mask and traditional Shinto priest robes, which were somehow pristine white and red despite him having appeared from nowhere in the middle of a dense forest, who told you he had no idea what direction the village was but he could take you to the Inari shrine you’d been searching for…well. Maybe you were too surprised to be wary, or maybe you were just exhausted and lost. But you like to think you had a sense of it even then, the irrational belief that the boy in the woods was not just a boy in the woods.
Atsumu thinks you knew. Humans always understand, even when they try not to… He remembers, he took your hand that day in the forest and you saw that the claws on his fingers were too long to be human, and you said nothing because on some level you already felt it. Your skin was cool then, smooth and damp from the rain; he wanted to stop, run his hands up your arms, touch the places on your face where your mouth had been turned up at the corners and press his fingers into your cheeks.
🤍 corporate ethics /// Kuroo x f!Reader
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Summary: [Office AU] The new junior marketing associate just happens to be Kuroo’s favorite camgirl, and he’s having trouble keeping his hands to himself.
Tags/Warnings: boss/employee, businessman!Kuroo as a reformed player, camgirl reader, this excerpt has a lil bit of 18+ content 👀
Status: 1.2k words written out of 4k? words total
Kuroo doesn’t watch porn.
It’s not, like, a moral principle or something. He has nothing against pornography. As far as he knows, it’s perfectly normal for single men. He just doesn’t like it…unless it’s you.
When he was in school it was easy. Being a teenager meant being so flooded with hormones that a warm breeze could get him up, and the adrenaline rush of winning a game was better than any big-titted porn actress faking moans into a shit-quality boom mic. Sure, he watched porn back then (what teenage boy didn’t?), but it was more out of curiosity than necessity. It was all kind of a mystery at that point, the way it can only be when you’re a clueless virgin and you and all your friends are too busy practicing for the next game to get girls.
Somehow Bokuto was the first one in their friend group to lose his virginity, and the memory of the dumbass self-consciously describing the experience has been lodged in Kuroo’s brain for the 10+ years since. “It was…I don’t know. She smelled good. You know how girls always smell good?” Bokuto’s hands twitched and his face was pink. “It’s just really…soft.”
Soft was right, Kuroo would reflect when he got laid for the first time a few months later. Soft, warm, wet. Sex was awkward at first, but before he knew it it was more natural than breathing.
It didn’t change much after high school, either. He didn’t get into volleyball for the groupies, but they didn’t hurt. There were girls when he played for his college team, more girls when he joined a business frat, so many girls he couldn’t keep track…they blurred together after a while. It didn’t take effort. You don’t need game when you’re 6’2 and you’re in the gym 40 hours a week, and you definitely don’t need porn.
So he never got into it. Now that he’s promoting volleyball instead of playing, things are more complicated. Kuroo’s never been the type who expects things to fall in his lap, but there are so many rules when it comes to dating in the real world. Good morning texts, anniversaries, flowers, parents. It’s exhausting. One time—seriously, just one time—Kuroo misses his girlfriend’s birthday to go watch a Jackals game, and the next time he sees her she throws her drink on him in public and keys his car. After that, Kuroo decides that until he’s ready to settle down there will be no more girlfriends. Which means no more reliable sex. Which means resorting to porn.
Which means you.
You, batting your eyelashes at the camera and biting the side of your lip. You, purring and mewing like a kitten. You, lying back on your pretty pink bedsheets in your pretty pink lingerie, sliding your hands between your legs. It takes Kuroo a full month to decide to pay for access to your website (Kenma’s unsolicited recommendation) but it takes less than five minutes for him to upgrade access to premium. You look like a wet dream—no, you look like the centerfold of every dirty magazine Kuroo managed to get his hands on when he was younger. Pristine and alluring and so deliciously out of reach.
And you make it so simple. No delicate emotional games with rules Kuroo never bothered to learn. No pretending to care how your day was. You untie the little bows on the side of your panties and lick your fingers and Kuroo just has to take his dick out and watch you. Getting off hasn’t been this easy for him since college. You’re a camgirl, you exist on his computer screen, and that’s how he likes it.
Which makes it a lot more awkward when Kuroo finds out that the only woman he’s gotten off to in the past…year, maybe?…somehow just got hired in JVA’s sports promotion department as his junior associate.
Your prim work blouse is buttoned up to the collar and your makeup is different, but he knows it’s you. You have to tell him your name twice because he’s too stunned to respond the first time, and even then he can’t summon up more of a response than a curt nod because his mouth tastes like dirt.
You smile a little awkwardly at his cool reception, and the hand you’d extended out to shake swings back down to your side. “Um, the guy at HR said he sent up my info yesterday…I’ll be working directly underneath you?”
Directly underneath me. Kuroo is taking a sip of his coffee when you say this. He doesn’t spit it out, but it’s close.
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gojology · 3 years
Text
— Gojo and Nanami | Their Insecurities
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pairing : insecure gojo x gender neutral reader, insecure nanami x gender neutral reader warnings : unedited, probably some misspellings, maybe some cursing, i probably dont make sense at all wordcount : 1703 a/n : this is so bad dear god please forgive me for deeming this as content
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GOJO SATORU ‧₊˚✩彡.
☆ Gojo’s insecure about his lack of bodyhair. His lack of facial hair and arm hair worries him. Being babyfaced wasn’t something positive in his eyes- no, he wishes he was physically more masculine.
   Your eyes meet his, the sun rays bathing both of you in an orange filtered light. His mouth is slightly opened, skin flush to the touch. After a night of intimacy, your ready for another round, pushing your palm towards his forehead. “Good morning, Satoru.” you say, voice slightly wavering even in the most private presence, without the formalities and what not, he’s surprisingly normal, and it’s taken you a bit to adjust to that. He’s warm, but it’s the good kind of warm, and it shows on his silly, dopey smile.
    You guess it wasn’t the time for more sex, so you resist your urges, directing the energy to something else.
    Gradually, your palms find themselves on his cheeks, and you pinch them slightly, giving him a look you hope is loving- because you really do mean it. Your rest assured, as the curve to his swollen lips grew even wider. The sounds of bird chirped as your fingers danced across his jawline, finally at your final stop, his chin. 
    You tip his chin up, and sure enough, hickeys are adorning his neck. A feeling of joy and honor fills you for a brief second, you were the one that was allowed to see him vulnerable, given the pass into his locked up heart. He finally breaks the silence between the two of you, pushing away your slack hand delicately. 
    It’s peculiar, there’s a tremble to his lips, like he’s scared, or about to burst into a fit of tears. You think it should be the other way around, but here you were, arms held close to your chest, looking at him with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation, bated breath preventing you from questioning the sudden change in tone. 
    “Hey, um, Y/N, weird ass question, but, am I hairy? Like, wooly mammoth hairy?” 
    You can’t tell if it’s sarcasm or not.
    Trying not to make a face, you shrug your shoulders. “Well, I mean, not really. You’re actually pretty nonhairy, in terms of uh... The average-” you pause, realizing how drastically his face fell. “-But I do like non-hairy guys! Who would wanna date a wooly mammoth anyways? Hey, baby..” you coo, giving him a tiny peck on the cheek, fluttering your eyelashes.     “What’s this about? Hey, you know, you can just be straightforward with me, I don’t mind.” 
    He doesn’t take a moment of hesitation, exasperatedly blurting out, “Does my lack of.. Hair, bother you?” but it seems he regrets it, your cheeks puffing up, stifling a giggle. Yet, he maintains the bone-chilling eye contact, his eyes are as vivid as ever, so blue it looked like the entrance to heaven. Your immediately lulled, whatever he was going to say was definitely urgent.
    “W-What? Are you being serious?” covering your mouth, your voice is muffled, but his face looks absolutely terrified, and you relish in how funny he looked. It wasn’t everyday that he was genuinely frightened, well, maybe he didn’t show it often.    “Of course not! Why would I be even remotely worried about bodyhair when I have something way more eye-catching in front of me?”
    The shock turns into a sheepish smile, returning for a second time, your heart melting instantly. He takes a long, deep breath, exhaling the tension away, tugging at the covers to go over his chest. You hadn’t realized that he had stolen more than half of the blanket for himself, but you don’t make a fuss about it. 
    For all the weight he carried on his sagging shoulders, you’re sure the warmth is appreciated. 
NANAMI KENTO ‧₊˚✩彡.
☆ Nanami thinks he’s a boring person, through and through. Outside of work, he doesn’t see why anyone would want him. Some days, he wonders if he should pick up on Gojo’s personality, telling jokes and being sarcastic and what not.
   The fine, white porcelain Nanami had gifted you was beautiful, to say the least. Nanami frequently shone it until it glimmered in the light, wiping any smudge or speck of dirt that dared to get on his beloved tea set that he gifted to you a few months prior. Gold trim, alongside depictions of birds fluttering about, and your favorite flowers. It’s perfect for you, and that’s why he had gotten it. His eyes had instantly brightened, picturing your beaming face as you served the two of you some tea.
   But he wonders, would you be happier if he perhaps gifted you something more up to date in comparison to the porcelain? He had enough money to buy you the world, bags, jewelry, he’d often used to hear stories of his co-workers giving their wives expensive, well, anything, and they’d be over the moon. A sudden realization grew inside of him at the thought of this:    
   Was he too out-of-date?    
   The thought went rampant in his usually collected mind, twisting and turning at night, only the sound of you, deep in sleep, could calm the troubled man down. As a consequence to his overthinking, he got little to no rest, and if he got little to no rest, his eyebags would turn their ugly, sneering faces in his direction.
     And so, as he’s baking tea cakes to go along with the afternoon tea the two of you would routinely drink, he’s going deep into depth of himself. He’s a good worker, good at...
     What was he good at? Aside from work, he can’t see why he’d be of use. Nanami acknowledges he’s stoic, which may be good in some cases, but often, everyone runs away from him because he appears as scary with those cold, calculating eyes. As opposed to Gojo, everyone enjoyed how lenient of a teacher he was. Well, Nanami isn’t sure on that, maybe aside from Megumi, Nobara, and Yuuji, everyone hated that. Regardless, him and Gojo don’t share something in common.
     Gojo has humor, and he doesn’t. 
     So why did you like him? 
     Nanami’s subconsciously drumming his long, bony fingers against the counter, eyes studying the ceiling like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. Steadily, an acrid smell completely overwhelmed your senses- now, you’re hacking into your arm, and finally, Nanami comes back to Earth. 
     He blinks a few times, like he’s drinking in his surroundings, before he realizes the tea cakes are completely burning into a crisp.
Now, he’s on heightened alert, yanking open the handle to the oven and fanning out the flames with a random oven mitt he had hastily grabbed for. Beads of sweat are developing on his skin, before finally, you rush in, still hacking up a storm with a large pot of freezing water in your shaking hands.
     Nanami curses himself for ever appearing as informal, but then he remembers he’s infront of his significant other, he didn’t have to put on an act. His face relaxes, and he opens his mouth to speak, to apologize, but he’s paused- by you. You raise your palm up at him, the other hand opening up a window looking over the garden.
      “Nana.” he freezes completely, the affectionate nickname was specially reserved for confrontations like this. You spoke softly, which, for some reason, was significantly worse than you screaming into his ear. Your eyes follow suit, staring at his collar, loosening his tie. He winces, but Nanami’s not sure why he does. You had touched him millions of times, so why was it now that he didn’t accept it?
     “Yes, my love?” he finally breathes out, wrapping a strong, gentle arm around your waist just loosely. You place your thumb just below his lower lip, your index finger rubbing his plush lips all at the same time. The exchange is purely affectionate, yet, he’s still tense. 
    “What has gotten into you?” you murmur. 
    “I- Nothing, darling, I’ll bake another-” 
    “No.” is all you say before you grab him by the chin, unwavering. Usually, those piercing eyes of his are emotionless, something shocking. The eyes are the gateway to the soul, so why is it that it’s blocked off? But you guess it wasn’t the case here, he stared back with the same level of intensity, fear and peculiarity. You stay in that position for a little, savoring just how much you must mean to him, it wasn’t everyday he was vulnerable and let you inside.      Your breathing is heavy, eyelids heavy as well due to his routinely ruckus every night, but you’re determined to erase any trace there was left of that.       You kiss him. It’s sloppy, yet chaste. A fight for dominance usually occurs between the two of you, and almost routinely, Nanami wins, but this time, he lets you do the work. 
   Your lips never once trail away from his own. Heavy breathing through nostrils, hands roaming where it shouldn’t at such an early time, but who gave a fuck about the rules? It wasn’t a workplace, and you’d never let it be one. He clings onto your figure, you savor his muscular physique. Not once do his hands not roam, your flesh was his, and his was yours. 
    Finally, you pull away, heat rising to your cheeks, tears are beginning to dawn on your glassy eyes. “I’ve listened to you roll around in bed every night, mumbling shit about how you don’t see why I’d want you. You better donate your eyes and brain to charity right now.” 
   This wasn’t the reaction, or beatdown he was expecting. He flinches at the vivid image he got of you gouging out his eyeballs. “...Why must I do that? 
   “Because, you don’t use them, obviously. If you took a fucking second of your life to look deeper into your personality below the surface level, you’d see how fucking amazing you are and I love you for that.” 
   Shaking your head furiously, you shush him up yet again when he finally decides to speak up, tears are beginning to spill down your cheeks. “Shut up, Nana. Shut. Up.” pulling him in for another kiss, your hands grabbing at his shoulder like he was going to let go. 
   But he never did. 
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Text
Moving day
Based on @lucywrites02's writing challenge, with the prompts "1. You're family" and "8. I have a surprise for you". I wish you a very happy birthday, Lucy!
Pairing: Loki x fem!reader (Tony Stark's daughter, not Morgan)
Word count: 3.2 K
Warnings: fluff and pregnancy :) This was very adorable to write.
Taglist: @lucywrites02, @louieboo87,@jesuswasnotawhiteman, @geekwritersworld, @whatafuckingdumbass, @mysticunicorn7, @toe-vind-ek-jou, @t00-pi, @selfship-mishaps, @sallymagnoliaposts, @deadgirl88, @enderslove
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Gif: @moonrainbow
It had surprised Thor greatly how quickly and intensely his brother had fallen for you. He was as committed and truthful as he has never been in his long, long life. He looked at you softly, in comparison with everyone else. As soon as you walked in a room, he followed you with his gaze and invited you to his conversation. It wasn’t a surprise that after a few months of this very silent flirting (that very few noticed, because it mainly consisted in batting eyelashes and repressing subtle smiles when the other was around) you’d come out of the shell and admit you started dating. Thor was ecstatic.
Tony, on the other hand, was not amused. Not amused at all; in fact, he hated the idea of you going around with that God. He said, explicitly “if you ever get in trouble because of him, you solve it yourself. Nothing of coming for daddy to help, clear?”. Pepper had told him to cut some slack, and observe at how happy you were together, but he, stubborn to the bone, had to take a few months more before accepting the fact that his little girl was in love with the God of Mischief.
But the months passed by; almost a year, and you grew closer and closer. You hated to sneak into his room every night, and get interrupted all the time by every single soul in the compound, or mocked to death every time you cuddled on the sofa, watched a movie or read a book together. So, it all boiled down to the same conversation:
“I don’t think he’s ready”, you said while pouring some milk on your cereal. Nat rolled her eyes.
“He’s even readier than you”, insisted Wanda. They were exhausted from having the same conversation over and over, but you couldn’t bring yourself to actually do something about it. “He’s lived much longer, if any of you two were to be unready, that’d be you”.
“Do you think I’m not ready?”, you doubted yourself.
“God, Wanda. You’re planting unnecessary seeds here. The girl’s already anxious enough”.
“I just think… I want him to be with me for the rest of my life. I don’t know if he feels the same”.
“He totally does”.
“Yeah. No doubt about that. Just look at how he looks at you. What are you even waiting for?”.
“I don’t know, a signal?”.
“Of what? You’re impossible. Unless God themself comes down the sky and tells you textually just move in with him, you wouldn’t consider it a ‘signal’”, bitched Nat. But she was right. Commitment was not exactly your thing, even though you were as in love as you could be.
You heard an oncoming scream approaching the room. In silence, you three observed cautiously, and moved away from the middle. The screaming increased its loudness, until a body shattered the roof and fell to the floor violently. Loki laid still among the dusted debris until a second screaming started sounding from the sky.
“Oh, fuck”, he said, managing to get up quickly and making himself as a shield for you three. Thor landed on his feet over the same spot Loki had fallen. Dust flew everywhere and the floor cracked a bit more. “Don’t”, he alerted, pointing at his brother menacingly.
“I’m tired of your whinings, brother. Do something or I’ll do it myself”, spat Thor, grabbing Mjölnir and leaving the room. Loki sighed and sat on the couch, cleaning the remains with his magic. Wanda sighed and put it all back together.
“And what was that about?”, asked Nat, eating a candybar, still on the same spot as earlier. It wasn’t an unusual scene.
“I…”, said Loki, but desisted. You sat on the couch by his side and he laid, using your lap as a pillow. You took out a tissue and started carefully cleaning the blood off his cuts. He smiled softly. “We just had a fight”.
“I can see that. What did you fight about?”.
“He wants me to… well, talk to you”, he struggled to say.
“Well, we’re talking now”.
“Yes. No, wait, no. Like, talk talk”, he clarified, and Nat and Wanda nodded, leaving the room. You could still hear their chattery from the door.
Loki sat up and grabbed both of your hands, making direct eye contact. He was nervous, which only made you even more unsettled. He was never nervous. He was always calm, even in life or death situations. He was unfazed in everything and with almost everyone. Almost.
“What do you want to talk talk about?”, you joked, and he chuckled, releasing some tension.
“I want you to move in with me”.
“Oh. Wait. What?”.
“Like, move out. But with me”.
“To your room?”.
“Out of the Compound”.
“To an apartment?”.
“Yes”.
“Here?”.
“In Midgard, yes”.
“But like, in New York?”.
“Wherever you want, actually”.
You stayed silent for a few seconds, and Loki grew nervous again. You couldn’t help but laugh. He looked at you quizzically, raising an eyebrow.
“I’m sorry, it’s just that… a God just fell down the sky and told me to move in with you”, you clarified, which didn’t actually clarify anything.
“You… what?”.
“Yes, I’d love to move in with you, love”.
And in no time you were already packing things up and going together on apartment huntings.
Tony insisted on helping you out himself, which was hilarious, given the repulsion he had for the idea in the first place. So, you’d go to an apartment by yourself, check it out and talk to the owner for a bit; Loki would arrive later, tensing things up (the owners would usually recognize him, but after a little chat they’d find out he’s a fine man), and then, just after you’d be all calm and good, the owners would see in the papers you’re a Stark, and tense up even more. Easier to say, it wasn’t a normal neighborhood chat.
You had finally decided on a small but very cozy apartment near Central Park; far enough from the Stark Tower, but you could get there pretty quickly for every mission.
You found the place advertised on the papers, and when you showed it to Loki, in sickness and all, you insisted on going to visit it that same day.
“My love, my dearest… you need to rest. I’m afraid you might faint again”, he cooed, trying to get you back to bed.
“A little fever won’t do anything to me, really, I’m f…”, you said, but you felt like vomiting, so you stopped your words and sat on the floor. Loki sat by your side and rubbed your back.
“If you feel better tomorrow, we go, yes? Now, come on, I’m gonna call Banner and you wait on your bed”.
“No, but they might take it, we need to go to make sure…”.
“What about I go, call you on one of those animated images, and you can see it from here?”, he proposed, helping you up. He meant a video call.
“That… sounds about right”.
But you had no actual time to have that video call, for when he was in the apartment, Banner was delivering some more important news.
You’ve been to the examination’s room of the compound before. But this time it seemed brighter. The lights shone so strongly, you had to close your eyes a little.
“What would you like to do about it?”, asked Banner. You were sobbing and trembling.
“I… I don’t know, I’m sure Loki will leave me”.
“What? No, don’t base your decision on that guy’s opinion”.
“Well, I don’t want the kid to not have a father, you know?”, you said as he gave you a tissue. “I want to have it, I’ve always wanted a kid. I think I’m… ready? I’m probably not. Not by myself, and I can’t do this alone. He’ll leave me, won’t he? Why would he want to have a kid with a mortal? We’d die as fast as he blinks”.
“Look, I’m no one to talk about it, but this sounds more like your anxiety and less like something he would do. He really loves you, he has for like at least a year, and I don’t see that going away anytime soon”.
“I know. You might be right”.
“You’re allowed to doubt everything. This is a huge thing, y/n. Think this through, talk to people, talk to your friends, or your parents. Don’t let this eat you”.
“Thanks, Bruce. You’re really… you’re being really nice, I appreciate it”, you sobbed. He handed you another tissue as he rubbed your shoulder.
“This is your call, okay? You have time to think. Text me later how you’re feeling, and have bed rest now. And if you feel too bad, take this”, he handed you some pills, “it should be innocuous for the baby”.
One of those days, that same week, you had decided to make it the official moving day. So, you put every box in the van and drove through the city, to your new home. You haven’t told Loki yet what you knew, and you were terrified he’d get even more upset because you didn’t tell him before the moving. But, to be fair, you didn’t think he’d actually leave.
You had told no one about it, despite Banner’s indications. But it wasn’t eating you. You were enjoying it silently. You were glad; you had your doubts, fears… Hell, you were terrified. But you knew, if Loki wasn’t going to be a part of that, you could do it yourself. You hoped he’d wanted to, though.
Loki and you had started taking the boxes inside, all by hand (to be honest, he was a little scared of the neighbours watching him do things with magic and kicking you two out). You laughed through it, and played races to see who’d finish their boxes first. He was wearing one of those midgardians shirts and pants that melted you completely. He wore that for your anniversary dinner the week before that day, and he noticed how much you loved it on him, so he started wearing fancy casual clothes more often than not.
After about two hours, you were done and completely exhausted. You laid in the middle of the wooden floor, surrounded by boxes and a strong smell of floorwax and fresh paint, and looked at each other fondly.
“Welcome home”, you said, and he showed you the biggest smile he’s ever done.
“I think this place is perfect. It’s away, but not exactly far from your family for whenever you’d want to be with them”.
“Yes, it’s perfect”, you said, getting up and helping him up. “You know, I have a surprise for you”.
“Really? What is it?”.
“Tonight at dinner, shall we? In the meantime, what about we get something to drink before unpacking?”.
“Can’t wait for tonight, then. Would you like some tea?”, he said, surrounding your waist with his arms. You played gently with his hair.
“Yes”.
“I love you”, he said, giving you a small peck over your smile.
“And I love…”, you started saying, but the entrance got filled with noisy people, interrupting you. Four of your friends were already filling the place, giving you an idea of how a small party would fit in there. “... you”.
“Oh my God! This place is so well illuminated!”, said Wanda, marveled.
“And what’s that smell? Have you been cooking something weird?”, said Nat, less enthusiastic, but equally curious. Sam and Bucky were still on the door, and Sam seemed to have brought food. Like a cake, or something similar. Wanda and Natasha were quick to invade the place without further notice.
“Oh, you got one of those hidden drawers! What are you hiding in there?”.
“Probably sex toys”, guessed Nat.
“I’d say drugs. But, like, alien drugs. You know, from his town”, apported Bucky, now making his way in and leaving the cake over the counter.
“I thought drawers were supposed to be for clothes���, said Sam, rolling his eyes.
“Yeah, but hidden drawers? Sexy clothes”.
“Actually, I’m saving my daggers in there”, finally said Loki, kissing your cheek before pulling away from you, and appearing a cup of tea in each guest with a movement of his wrist.
“Boring”.
“So, guys, what do you think?”, you said as you started opening one of the boxes.
“I think it’s small”, said Tony, as he walked in. Pepper rolled her eyes behind him.
“Don’t listen to him, you guys chose perfectly. This place will look very nice once you paint it and decorate it”.
“It’s already painted”.
“Oh. Well, it… it looks nice”.
“Thanks mom”, you chuckled. “It’s small but we don’t need it to be big”.
“You better be actually saving daggers in here”, Tony peeped inside the hidden drawer. “Now that is not so hidden. I wouldn’t like to open it up someday and find a…”.
“Dad, please”, you rolled your eyes and went to Loki’s side. “Don’t worry, you won’t find anything weird. Just the daggers and knives of my very innocent boyfriend”.
“Well, you’ll have to think further about having knives so close to the floor, you know”, he muttered. Loki furrowed his eyebrows.
“Why?”.
Tony ignored him and walked to you earnestly, with the most serious face expression you’ve ever seen, and everyone observed quietly. He grabbed you by the shoulders, and inhaled a deep breath. All of the sudden, his eyes got watery, and you realized Banner had told him about the pregnancy. Your heart beat so fast you thought you’d faint again, right there. The corners of his lips formed a tiny smile, and he hugged you tightly. Loki was certainly confused now. As far as he knew, Tony didn’t like him, and why would he be so happy about you moving out? It’s not like you were his only child, either.
“I’m so proud of you”, he whispered, and then Loki had the feeling he wasn’t talking about the new apartment, but didn’t ask any further.
That night you managed to cook something special, even though you still hadn’t gotten the gas installed. You cooked together, and laughed at every minor inconvenience the house could give you. The doors of the countertop cabinets were the perfect height for Loki’s 6’4” ass to stump his head every time he tried to open it.
After some time of silent cooking, absorbed on each’s thoughts, Loki asked about your dad’s pride.
“Oh, he’s… well, he just, gets very emotional with these things”. He chuckled at your very obvious lie.
“No, he doesn’t. Certainly not with me”.
“Come on, he likes you now. He likes anyone I love, because you make me happy, and because he has no other choice”.
“Well… I thought he’d be less amused”, he admitted. “Hasn’t he? Other choice, I mean”.
“I don’t think so. He’d have to deal. Family is family”.
“Oh, do I know about that”, he said, cutting a carrot more strongly than before. You laughed.
“I meant it in a good way”.
“Well, your family is one thing, mine is another… I can’t push yours to like me, as much as I would like to. They’re very nice, and I wish I had a family like that, but I don’t”.
“Love, family is built”, you said, this time a little more serious. He repressed a smile, still looking at the vegetables. “You’re part of this, too, you know?”.
“Of this?”.
“You’re family”.
He didn’t repress the smile this time.
“You’re right. You’re my family, too, my love”.
“You…”, you took a deep breath. It was the perfect moment. “Do you ever imagine us in the future?”.
“Why yes, of course”.
“Really?”.
“I want to spend all your life with you. I didn’t want to rush into things because… I don’t know, scaring you out of anything, but I…”, he said, and the alarm on your phone went off, to take the rice from the fridge. You two laughed at how mundane this conversation seemed. “But I love you, and I want you by my side”.
“Okay. Well I do too. That’s good, right? That’s good”.
“Yes, of course it’s good, why so doubtful?”, he laughed, grabbing a tomato and stabbing it.
“Because I’m pregnant”.
“Yeah”, he chuckled, without actually realizing what you just said. And then, he fell. “Hold on, what did you just say?”.
“I’m… I’m having a baby. Yours, of course”, you clarified. You felt like you had to, but it wasn’t actually necessary. Silence filled the kitchen.
“Oh dear” he paused. He left the knife over the counter and looked at you, looking for any trace of a joke. You weren’t joking, and you grew nervous as he let time pass by without saying a word. “How could you not tell me this before moving in?”, he muttered, still in a bit of a shock.
“Oh. Well… I…”.
“I wouldn’t have let you carry those heavy boxes, love, I’m so sorry”, he said, and cupped your cheeks. “Are you really…?”. You sighed in relief. For a moment you thought of the worse.
“Yes, I am”.
His arms embraced you completely, hugging you as tight as he allowed himself to. He muttered how much he loved you, and how happy you had just made him, for the rest of his life.
Later that night, as you laid in bed, he cuddled you from behind with his hands on your tummy and his lips on your bare shoulder. You could feel his soft breathing grazing your skin, and his warmth keeping you safe.
“Loki”, you whispered, checking if he was still awake. You couldn’t sleep.
“Yes, love?”, he whispered back.
“Are you sure you want to be a daddy? With me?”.
He turned you around, and lowered his head to your abdomen. He sank his face and kissed all around your stomach and hips, leaving a trace of kisses up to your neck, and then your lips.
“How could I not?”, he whispered in a low voice. Burying his nose in the crook of your neck, teased “besides, the word daddy comes out so well from your lips”.
You laughed softly, and after some more silence that was fairly filled with loving stares, a thought crossed his head and you saw the light of his eyes turn to dark.
“What is it, love?”, you put a strand of his hair behind an ear.
“I… I’m just realizing something bad”, he said, and you nodded. “I’m a Frost Giant”.
“Why is it bad?”.
“My actual form is bigger than this. And… colder. And if the baby were Jötun too...”.
“You think the baby might hurt me?”.
“They might. I don’t know. Oh no, what if they hurts you?”, he began to panic, and you shushed him, kissing his temples.
“Don’t worry, Lokes. If that’s the case, we’ll figure it out”, you reassured him. “And maybe it’s not. And we’ll have a little and very healthy half-Jötun running around this small apartment. When have we not solved our issues? We’re good at that bit”.
“You’re right. You’re right, my dear”. He sighed, and then chuckled. “Should we have gotten a bigger place?”.
“We’ll be a very close family”, you laughed.
“We already are”, he whispered, cuddling back to you. “We are a very close family”.
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yandere-society · 3 years
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The Rabbit Hole
Summary: The Windy City in the mid-1920s is a spectacle of lights and sounds, roaring with the excitement of jazz music and swinging dance moves. Amid the brilliant stars of Chicago nightlife, there is a dark underground of secrets, mainly that being the mysterious Wonderland Ball you've been invited to participate in and be crowned the next "Alice". What you don't know is you may or may not be allowed to leave, per the Mad Hatter and a White Rabbit's desires. So, daring and brave as you are, you decide to take a journey down The Rabbit Hole and come face to face with high society - people - as you've never seen them before.
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Genre: Yandere; Historical Fiction/ Fantasy Based In The 1920′s; Smut; Thriller; Alice in Wonderland Inspired 
Warnings: Yandere themes, Mentions of drug/ alcohol use with/without consent, mentions of “gangsters”, light talks of selling your soul/ the devil/ religious “themes”?, sedative drugs used non-consensually, vivid dreams/nightmares, maybe light profanity? Smut: Non-protected sex (twice), creampies, oral sex (f and m receiving/giving), slight nipple play?, spanking, marking, bruising, slightly rough sex, use of a sex swing/ sex swing intercourse, f and m orgasms. I think that’s it. 
Pairings: Jeon Jungkook (White Rabbit) x Reader (Alice) x Kim Seokjin (Mad Hatter), Side Pairing of Johnny (Jonathan) Suh from NCT x Reader, Johnny x Jung Jaehyun from NCT.
Author’s Notes: This is not going to be a historically accurate piece. As much as I am an advocate for research and learning about the times of old, I am only human and I am short on time researching in between my full time job. I have grown up and currently live in Chicago and I have never written a story about the Windy City before so here I am, writing to you about the wonderful city I call home. I am doing my best to stay true to my writing as well as make it as accurate as one can, but please forgive me if there are faults in this story! 
We are not doing a collective Valentine’s Day event this year but the contents of this piece have been weighing heavily on my mind, so I asked if I could write this story for a little something-something. I hope you all enjoy it!
Written By: Admin 💖 @therealmintedmango​ 
Also, who do you think the other boys from BTS are from Alice in Wonderland in this story? I’d love to know! 
Stepping out of my very own vehicle my future husband’s family sent for me, I take in the sights and the sounds that Chicago provides this snowy afternoon. 
People waltz around one another and mingle about, snow crunching under their feet. The faint sounds of jingle bells float down the streets in the chilly air, it smells of popcorn and roasted nuts as well as the sludge of gasoline tainting the snow. A cold breeze gliding across the buildings nearly knocks me off my feet as I look up to my new place of residence, a new high-rise Michigan Ave. The stars above my head seem to sparkle in the dark sky, or are those just the electric lights from the grand buildings surrounding me? 
Curious, I think as I continue to have my sights set above the horizon. I’ve certainly strayed very far from the corn fields of back home. Inhaling the sharp, bitterly cold air around me, I feel a sense of dread almost wash over my senses. I knew what I was signing up for when I came here. Jonathan and I discussed it in great detail over the wire. 
The reality of the situation is finally sinking into my layers of clothing. 
Jonathan Suh, the grandson of Suh Realtor Industries Incorporated - which owns about one third of Chicago - has asked me to marry him. It was seemingly out of the blue too. I was going to spend the next years of my life trying to marry into the best livestock or vegetable farmer in town, not the filthy rich grandson in a large city. It felt like a dream when he called me and begged me to come as soon as possible. I suppose it pays off to be kind to everyone, especially when it felt like it was yesterday we were both in grammar school together. 
I drink it all in, the busy sounds, the cold night air that leaves me feeling bitter and raw standing in the street while snow begins to descend from the blackened sky. It feels foreign to me even though it’s only about two hours away from the farm. The breeze blistering in from the west sends a chill up my spine. 
This is a new beginning, I ponder to myself as I stretch upwards in the middle of the sidewalk. This is my chance at a better life, this is way better than being some poor, sad farm girl. That’s right! I’m going to be the wife of my childhood friend who just happened to be some rich playboy who has more money than he knows what to do with.
I’m going to be a Suh!
...Even if the whole arrangement is a sham...
“Miss, you are going to freeze to death outside!” Jonathan’s maids rush to usher me out of the cold quickly, but not before I accidentally bump into someone on the busy sidewalk. 
“I beg you to pardon me,” I mumble as I set my sights over my shoulder on a man dressed in a long coat with hair as white as the snow currently blanketing the ground. “You’ll have to forgive me, I am just enraptured with how bright Chicago seems to shine at night.” 
The man’s seemingly red eyes expand with my excitement, then soften. “No pardon to beg, Miss…?” He queries, a bloom of warmth spreading across his face.  
“Suh.” I smile as the men shout from my car they have finished unpacking. “Well, I am the future Mrs. Jonathan Suh. For now I suppose I am still Y/N Y/L/N.”
“Strange, I didn’t think he… Well, never mind that now.” His eyes linger on mine. “Johnny’s got good taste.” I hear him mumble under his breath in a deep tone, slurring his words together in a string. “Well, I can’t wait to see more of you, future Mrs. Jonathan Suh.” He says as he swings his coat behind himself and takes off down the street, the crowd and the night dissolving him like a pill in warm water. 
Curious and curiouser this night becomes, I think as the maids finally have enough of me standing about in the cold. 
“Do you know who that was?” I ask the hoard of them, hoping someone has the answer to my bump in the night with a rather odd fellow. My heart is beating but I’m not sure what for. I know my place. I know why he called me… My fate was sealed as soon as I got the wire from my future husband.
The collective flock shake their heads and mutter polite “noes” as they lead me up grand staircases of marble and through dim corridors at this time of night, leaving my brain a drifting piece of snow in the blizzard that will surely accumulate outside overnight. 
“Right this way.” A young redhead coos as she parades me up what must be my twentieth flight of stairs I’ve climbed this evening. “Master Suh will be so happy you are here at last!” They lead me into a beautiful room with the most lavish furniture I’ve ever seen in my life! Magazines and pictures certainly don’t bestow such fine items with quite the same honor as seeing such beauty in person. 
“Madam Suh has a full schedule for you this weekend.” One of the elderly looking women dares to swoon as she says, “Wedding planning, I’m sure, no doubt.” My coat is taken from me and I am given house slippers to wear. 
The flock - or really I should call them a herd of lemmings - all agree once more as a butler leads us through a hallway with objects of fine art, pottery, and paintings. Each item is so uniquely wonderful that it would make my brothers’ and sisters’ heads spin if they saw how perfect and polished everything is. How ornate and lavish! Am I to spend my life with fine, intricate pieces of art from all mediums? I wonder if Jonathan has created any of these himself? Would he allow me to paint? I wonder...
“Master Suh,” I inhale, realizing I am right at the threshold of a beautiful oak door. “Miss Y/N Y/L/N has arrived.” The butler announces. 
My body feels all fuzzy and nervous for some reason. It’s been many years since I’ve seen my dear friend from when we were still learning how to hop on a bicycle in the country where his family had a small house and property that butted up against my family’s by the little lake in the middle of a corn field. 
“Y/N!” A deep, refreshing voice purrs before he embraces me in a tight hug. “How was your ride? Did the car fair well, unlike the weather?” He chuckles as his tall frame dwarfs mine in comparison. The scent of him is most definitely cinnamon, scotch, and leather, which I’m not surprised. All fine things to smell of for certain. 
The maids all giggle and mumble their approval and the butlers look away, anxious to gaze upon a woman in another man’s arms. I suppose his gesture of a greeting is very rude, but I don’t mind. Being smack-dab in the middle of my siblings, I feel like nothing phases me anymore, even the hug Jonathan wraps around me. 
“Jonathan Suh,” I simper, pulling out of his embrace, “The ride was not too terrible, and my, how tall you’ve grown! And so dapper too.” I sigh earnestly. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”
“I hope you say that every day you wake up and I am there beside you.” Jonathan’s brown eyes seem to daze in the glow from the lamp lights in the sitting parlor. 
There’s nothing more I hate than an arrogant flirt, not to mention an arrogant flirt with money is all the more trouble. Is this really going to be the rest of my life? Living with Jonathan like this? So contrived and fake… it makes my insides twist. 
“I am rather weary though from a day full of travels.” I pretend to yawn, shifting out of his arms bit by bit and heading toward the door. “May I have the delight in seeing you tomorrow?” 
“Oh yes, you must be quite tired. I always get sleepy on car rides.’ Jonathan muses as he extends his hand to the door and the staff scramble into place. “Mr. and Mrs. Alan would you please escort Y/N to her room? I will be here but on the other end of the house until we are...you know-” 
“Goodnight, Jonathan.” I say almost too quickly after that, leaving almost as swiftly as I’ve come. 
Once my hair is down and I am dressed comfortably in my nightgown, I feel like I can take a deep breath again. It feels odd with my hair unpinned, sitting in a brand-new nightgown, overlooking the rocking waves of the lake and the snow that drifts down from the sky. Basking in the sill of my window from the beautiful lights and moonlight shining through my velvet curtains, I hope and pray that every night I spend in Chicago is not as forced and fake as this one has been.
-
I’m chasing something odd in my dream. 
I move between pictures hanging on the walls, through the bellies of grandfather clocks, I emerge through the darkness every time, chasing a little white rabbit with a cottontail through or around objects of grand design. I have never had a dream that felt so vivid and real, like I am actually flying through my thoughts, time of the utmost essence for some unknown reason. I can’t seem to escape a dark feeling looming around me and I feel slightly frightened that I will not catch the little thing. 
When I reach for the little dumpling covered in pretty white fur, it lurches forward, propelling my desire to catch up to the little beast. 
I descend deeper and deeper, the spotlight in the darkness focused solely on the bunny ahead of me. I can’t reach him, I’m not fast enough, my feet do not carry me quick enough. I call to the animal but it doesn’t hear me, instead it flies between two large velvet curtains. 
“Please!” I beg the animal as I pop through the hole in the curtains, shuffling through on my knees. “Where are you taking…me…” My question dies in my throat as I look up to find red eyes, his curly blonde hair waving at me from under a gold top hat, a gold mask from that of a masquerade celebration covering most of his face. 
But, I know that soft smirk well now. I’ve replayed it several times already in my mind like the fool I am. 
This is the man I met on the sidewalk. I gasp. But, why is he inhabiting my dream?
“Welcome to Wonderland, Alice.” A soft voice wafts from high above the two of us, making me shiver. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
Why am I frightened? Surely this is not a nightmare. I was only following a rabbit and now I am here with these two men. 
Slowly, my eyes trail up the large mahogany platform, showcasing a very large, ornately plush gold and maroon seat which houses a man in an all green suit of the finest quality. He is also wearing a mask trimmed with greens and golds, his lush lips pinkened like he had just indulged in delicious raspberry jam pulled into a dark smirk. He sits with the side of his pale face in one of his hands, resting comfortably on the arm of the pretty chair. The man from the street sits on a swing that hangs high from the rafters, silently taking me in. An aura of power and class drips tastefully from every fiber of his being, weighing heavily upon me like he is a hammer and I am but a humble nail. 
“Good job chasing rabbits.” The man’s smile further stretches, his amber eyes boring down upon me, making my skin want to jump from my skeleton. “The next step is to find The Rabbit Hole.”
My eyes fling open, a train's loud horn blaring in the distance, the golden morning haze filtering from the curtains across the room. I jolt upward in bed, cold sweat beading my body, tainting the beautiful nightgown the Suhs have given me. I throw the sheets off my bed and clutch my forehead, musing the words of the man in all green over and over to myself in a frenzy. 
...What a dreadfully vivid dream...
-
I’ve been here for almost a week and I’ve lost count of the tea parties and luncheons I’ve attended with Mrs. Suh. The people and the houses and families they all belong to are getting lost to me in the wake of planning for a wedding. Though, I’m not sure how much I am actually planning. Merely pointing between two colors of table placemats and napkins or choosing between a flower or two. 
Tonight though, it is another snowy evening on the lakeshore, we are attending a jazz concert at the Sunset Cafe to see a wonderful show performed by the talented Cab Calloway and Louis Armstrong who make the most wonderful music. I was practically buzzing when I heard the news that the Suhs would be taking me this evening. As always, Jonathan and his mother have only two options for me to wear this evening and I must make a choice between them. A silver, more A-lined gown that shows off more skin than one should in the winter with a mink-fur cowl or more fluttering, off the shoulder velvet cobalt-blue style of a ball gown with embroidered golden stars falling from the bust in waves of tulle. 
Call me old fashioned, but I choose the one that makes me feel like a princess, not the one that makes me fit in. My thoughts wander between which Suh picked out which dress for me to wear and the dream of me chasing a white rabbit. 
I can never seem to catch that rabbit nor have I seen the two men since my first dream. It relieved me, but it also scared me. 
A shimmering laugh that is made of moonbeams and stars pulls me from my spell of thought that engrossed me.
The Suhs are dotting and cheerful people, always looking out for their only son in this cruel world. They are wonderful and powerful in their own ways, working the men and ladies in the sitting room of the theater with just a glance or smile of their lips. Mr. Suh smokes a cigar and smacks Jonathan on the back as they stand in the corner away from the ladies. Mrs. Suh includes me in all her conversations, never wanting me to feel lost or dissuaded from a million questions by another matriarch of a well-to-do family. 
I can see why Jonathan doesn’t want to disappoint them or the good people of his clan’s name before or after himself.  
The room is hazy from the smoky cigars that the men all drag on in between their elaborate conversations about President Coolidge and his beliefs while the women discuss lighter subjects such as traveling to Paris and Morocco as well as tennis. I find my thoughts up in the cloud of smoke that hangs in the room. 
“Pardon me, ladies,” Jonathan places a hand gently upon my shoulder, “may I steal Y/N away for a few moments?” 
“The concert will begin shortly, Johnny.” Mrs. Suh smiles, casting her charms to her son who smiles with reassurance to his dear mother. 
“Don’t fret, mother,” Jonathan grins as she calls him his nickname, “I want to show her off to my college chums.”
Her eyes twinkle in delightful mischief as she swirls her glass of sweet liquor in her hand. “Just be sure to return her in one piece. Y/N has a long day ahead of her tomorrow.” 
More wedding planning I’m not privy to I suppose? Such is my life now. High society is fun and all but the pressure is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before… No, my brain is captivated once more by the dark aura of the man from my dream, looming and lingering above me, teeth glimmering in the lim electric light of the room from my lucid dream. That was true, pure evil pressure I wish to never partake in the feeling of ever again. 
Jonathan says nothing as he turns from her, ushering me away with his hand placed gently on my shoulder. We move silently and quickly through groups who mingle and giggle, alcohol strong in their glasses and upon their breath as we pass through the crowd of rich socialites. 
We stop at one group of gentlemen, but I am only introduced to one handsome man named Jung Jaehyun who fondly shakes Jonathan’s hand and winks at me. What an odd fellow, I tell myself as we dive deeper and deeper into the crowd of people loitering in the fancy sitting room. 
“I’m glad you wore the one I picked out.” Jonathan says so low that I may only be able to hear his words. Well, that answers that question then. “These men might eat you alive, so stay as sharp as a blade but soft as a lamb, understand me? They will not leave me be until I introduce you to them.” 
“Are they your friends?” I query with a whisper as he pulls me to the edge of the room where young men have beautiful young ladies draped on their elbows. 
I have never seen a lady look like they do, but I suppose it is fashionable and “kept up with the times”. I am not so appealing as these ladies are with their skin on display and their heels high, they attract my attention before the men who hold them up do. Their makeup is dark, yet shimmering in the soft glow from the electric lights from above. The fair ladies’ hair is cut so short, their sideways hats and feather headbands merely slip off their sleek and shiny hairstyles. I am in awe of the way they look and envy them for behaving and chatting so freely. 
“Do not be scared, but they are budding gangsters who run speakeasies.” My eyes widen with his words, but I do what I am told. “Please do me another favor, Y/N, and become the most desirable woman here.” Jonathan whispers to me before we approach the hoard of people in front of me. “I will set you free from this cage as soon as I can.”
I can only nod as my demeanor switches like that of a light switch. 
Walking up to these men and women I’ve never met, I invoke the acting spirit of Jane West for Jonathan. I demand my attention. I am the most beautiful creature in this sitting room, if not all of the world. I did not go to college but I am going to show you how well read and cultured I am. I am going to be a Suh and I command you all to bow down to me in this instant. 
“Suh!” A tall man with coiffed, sandy blonde locks beams as he steps away from his fair darling on his arm tonight. “You dog! I didn’t think you’d grace us with your presence this evening!” They shake hands and laugh at nothing vigorously as I look between the two before the blonde catches my eye. They are pretty amber eyes that remain half-lidded and surely dazzle in the glow from chandeliers above. He’s not as tall as Jonathan, but he is handsome. “This must be-” 
“Y/N Y/L/N.” 
A voice from behind the blonde says clearly, setting to be free from the shadow of Jonathan’s friend. 
It’s the white rabbit! I think as I try to hold myself together. He looks rather dapper in a white and gold waistcoat with tails, a top hat making him appear to be as formal as one can be. This is the gentleman I bumped into the streets, but I cannot press out of my head. I want to tell him to stay out of my dreams, but I fear he will think me mad if I declare such a bold thing without expressing my thoughts further.  
“You know of my future bride, Jeon?” I feel the grip upon my shoulder tighten and breath being held from above me. Don’t fret, Jonathan, I would never tell anyone. I promise. Your secret is safe with me. 
The friend with his hair as white as the fallen snow looks at me passively, eyes rimmed red like he can’t sleep a wink either. “I met her on the sidewalk, John, but we’ve never been properly introduced.” He bows and takes my blue-colored gloved hand in his white ones. He kisses the top of my hand and in this ball gown-like dress I am indeed fulfilling my fantasy of pretending to be a beautiful princess. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, future Mrs. Jonathan Suh.” 
“Y/N,” Jonathan says, exhaling the concerned breath he’s been holding in, his grip returning to normal as well. “These are my friends from college: Mr. Kim Namjoon, whose family owns one third of the city like mine does, and Mr. Jeon Jungkook, who makes up the triangle of the most powerful families of Chicago.” 
“At your service.” Jungkook says with a cheeky grin stretching across his face, kissing the top of my hand once more. 
The way he looks up at me makes butterflies trapped in my body flutter and flounce about. But I cannot swoon or succumb to a young man so openly. Jonathan is counting on me. 
“I’m delighted to meet Jonathan’s friends from his schooling.” I say in the same charming manner Mrs. Suh has produced all week. 
“Forgive me for this is a bold question, future Mrs. Suh, but, will you be getting a gown made?” Namjoon asks me as he sips his scotch on the rocks.
“I think tomorrow I am going for a fitting, yes.” I nod my head, smiling just the right amount. 
“Then it should be crafted by the finest in the Windy City, Kim’s Couture on the corner of Washington and LaSalle Street. Have you heard of the establishment before?” Namjoon queries.
“Indeed! I have!” I exclaim happily, my eyes wide as his stay half-lidded as though he is sleepy, though he smiles earnestly. 
“Then I must insist you have a treasured wedding gown made by my seamstresses.” He hands me a white business card with only his name upon it. I stare at it until he taps it twice. “They will take excellent care of you, I promise.” 
“Oh-ho!” A soft, almost melliferous voice rings out behind me. No... “This must be the infamous bride-to-be!” I know this voice! Fear rattles through me, making me tremble as I look over the shoulder Jonathan is not draped over to look at the mysterious voice. Time is slow as molasses as I face the man from my dream, clad all in a green waistcoat, vest, and top hat, wolfishly grinning at me. 
“Ah, this is my eldest brother,” Namjoon muses as the electric lights flash, indicating the performance will begin soon, “Seokjin Kim.” 
Kim Seokjin...
I feel like I know everything about this man yet nothing at all. He is the type of man who is a brilliant summer on the outside and stormy winter on the inside. The smile on his lips - that is the color of the inside of a cherry tart - is warm, yet cold all in the same breath. He appears to be a powerful man of high class, wrapped in an enigma of grace and power. But there is a scent of something malicious in the air as he closes the gap between us and gets down on his knee to kiss upon my hand. 
I’m not sure what made me do it, but something comes over me, the flight or fight instinct animals possess lurches out of me in this moment.  
“Why is a raven like a writing desk?” I ask, pulling my arm away from him.
Seokjin’s bright amber eyes slowly travel up my ball gown, disbelief and confusion colors his good looking features. 
Mouths open in shock and my heart drops, but I feign a lie, turning out of Jonathan grasp, and quickly say, “Forgive me, for I feel faint.” I run to the bathroom in the hall as everyone piles into the main room of the Sunset Cafe, heart pounding in my chest and cheeks on fire. 
I’m so sorry Jonathan, I did not mean to make a fool out of you. There is just something about the way Seokjin’s gaze is so feral that chills me to the bone. 
A hand rests upon Jungkook’s shoulder while he continues to longingly gaze at the door as if he was willing me to come back with his mind. “Don’t worry, Jeon.” Seokjin purrs in his ear, amber gleam set upon the door. “She is the one who chases you every night, not the other way around.” 
“I know, hyung.” Jungkook whispers as the brass begins to trumpet through the building. “When do we make our move?” 
“Soon.” Seokjin chuckles darkly, guiding the younger of the boys to follow behind him. “Very soon we will have our glorious tea party.” 
-
The subject of marriage has always been an odd one to me, I think to myself as maids and fashion consultants from the Kim’s dress boutique flutter and coo around me.  
My parents married but it was never for love. I knew that, my siblings and myself knew that, yet they both loved us all the same. My mother and father married as more of a “good match on paper” sort of situation, than they were truly, madly in love. Still, they never fought, my father never hit my mother, never drank himself silly, never talked to another woman. My mother upheld the same standard and raised us all with love in her hardworking heart. I knew she was aware that I haven’t spoken to Jonathan since we were young children and that I would soon be in the same boat if I accepted his offer. 
“A lifetime of money doesn’t equal happiness.” She told me. “You should marry for love, not for any green or gold.” 
I agree. I know this full well. I’m not one to be stingy or greedy by any means. I don’t want to be an actress in a picture show or model for a beautiful Channel garment. And though I do want love in my life, I want a secure future. I am the middle child of middle-class farmers. The best match I could have made besides this one was with a cattle farmer or a man who works in the stockyards on the south side of Chicago. 
It’s selfish for me to do this not only for myself but to my mother as well. 
But, I am here and like my family, I will be fiercely loyal to the man I will call my husband. If not, call me a bold-faced liar and take me and my words to the grave. 
Jonathan Suh is not a bad man for who he prefers in the sheets. I know that and have never felt such a way to treat someone less of me if they do prefer the company of one sex over another. I will not break the promise I’ve made to him, but I cannot help but feel like a songbird trapped in a tight, metal cage for the decision I’ve made to help him. 
-
Due to the poor weather Chicago has currently come down with, the wedding has been postponed until further notice. 
When I wired my family to tell them the news, my mother answered. I was a bit more than surprised that she almost sounded relieved when I told her the news. I promised I would wire soon and my younger sisters begged me to take them to the city to go shopping at Marshall Fields. My father sounded passive at first when the telephone wire was transferred to him by my youngest brother after he told me the family cat, Cheshire, had gone missing. 
Truth be told, I am also more than happy to exhale a breath and not worry about someone questioning me about my upbringing. Or having Mrs. Suh and the don of high-class ladies and waist-coated men galloping around every breath I take. 
I can finally relax, I think as I pull out a book in the study as Jonathan reads the Chicago Tribune on the couch across the way from me. We get along well, I realize. Silence suits us both. No tricks, not faking our way through hordes of important people. We have to conserve and save our energy for when we face the people mercilessly wanting to know everything and anything about us, good ole’ Jonathan and I... 
No, not Jonathan anymore… I am to be his wife, and he...my…
I peer at him from over my book on flowers, losing interest in the pages. 
Can I really pretend we are to be an item forever? Will one of us crack or slip up? It seems like we are stuck in a circle now, both of us floating in a pool of choices we will surely drown in.
Tap. Tap. Tap. 
Someone knocks at the door, plucking me from my fever of thoughts. I fully peer over the pages in my hands, pretending like I was in fact engrossed in the origin story of an author I enjoyed as a girl. 
“Enter.” Jonathan says without skipping a beat, not looking up from his black and white ink. His eyes scan the pages, following the drumming beat of the grandfather clock next to the roaring fireplace. But, now that I study him closer, I’m unsure if he was actually reading or just musing to himself like I was moments ago.  
“The post, sir.” Butler James reports as he opens the door, my handmaiden Emily gliding up to us with a silver plate in her hands. 
“Thank you, Emily.” Jonathan gives her a half-smile as he takes the single envelope off the tray, slicing it open with trepidation.  
I look at the blood-red colored wax seal as he flips the paper, revealing a knight chess piece glaring upside down at me. 
Jonathan scans the letter passively at first, his orbs lazily scanning the pages, then suddenly his eyes ignite with rage behind them. “No.” He says softly, red flushing to his handsome face. He rips the paper up into shreds then, aggression and hatred oozing from every pore for some unknown reason. He gets up as he throws the scraps in the fire with vigor as butler James, Emily, and I all stare at him like he’s grown a second head. “Don’t you dare go.” He warns me, irises blaring with unmeasurable loathing. “Those people are dangerous.” Jonathan practically snarls as he exits the room in a fit of rage, stomping down the hall as we look on stunned and slack-jawed at what had just happened. 
From what I can tell, Jonathan isn’t one to get upset easily or lash out so that letter must have set him off. But what could it have been?
It really has sparked my curiosity, that’s for certain. 
Where wasn’t I supposed to go and who was so dangerous?
-
I got the answer the next day as I read a book about traveling the jungles of South America. 
“Miss!” My handmaiden whispers like a hiss as she enters the study. “Miss!” 
“Yes, Emily?” I smile, putting my book down as she flutters to my side in a nervous frenzy. “What is the matter?” 
“I snagged this from the post, miss.” She hands you the letter you saw the previous day with Jonathan, the one that he got enraged over.  “Please open it quickly, miss, before the butler spots it! They want us to destroy anything with this seal on it!”
I do as I am told, opening up the letter addressed to both Jonathan and myself with the odd wax seal to find an invitation inside.
You Are Cordially Invited To Participate In:
THE WONDERLAND BALL 
A Masquerade Party To Determine The Next “Alice”
For Directions Follow Us Down The Rabbit Hole 
Knock Thrice For The Door Mouse To Let You Inside
Cheers, 
                                      The ‘Mad Hatter’ & Company
“How curious...” I muse as my eyes trail over the letter over and over, wondering what has Jonathan all in a panicked rage. “Well, I don’t even know where “The Rabbit Hole” is so I shan’t be going.” 
“Tis’ a speakeasy, Miss.” Emily says her eyes wide as she reads the paper with you. “They say it’s the most fun one in all of downtown!” She giggles. “Shall I fetch you a gown for the ball?” 
“No.” I shake my head with a small smile, hanging her back the letter. “If Jonathan said he doesn’t want me to go, I won’t.” I pick up my book as she slightly deflates, wanting to paint me up for the festivities I was invited to. “Please burn this now, Emily, so you don’t get in trouble.”
“Right away, Miss.” Emily bows a little before she heads out of the room, leaving me to daydream in the middle of the study in peace. 
-
“How long must we wait?” Jungkook pesters Seokjin tirelessly who looks down from his wooden pedestal in the back room of the very peculiar club. “I am afraid a letter and her dreams are not going to cut it.” Jungkook snorts, frustration flashing in his red eyes. 
“Mm, yes…” Seokjin rubs his chin with his white gloved hand, “Johnny boy has been hiding our little Alice away from our prying eyes, hasn’t he?”
“Yes!” Jungkook stomps his foot like that of a child, fists balled into tight fists at his sides. “And I was promised a maiden for all the hard work I’ve done for you!” 
Seokjin laughs darkly then, the sound echoing off the walls of his private chambers. “Jungkook, I’m not sure if you understand that poisoning people and taking out a few smaller families in our beloved city is considered hard work.” He stops then, Seokjin’s usually light voice dripping with malice when he says, “But, I suppose this is one way to end the Suhs and get the last jewel on the crown you are desiring in your attempts to rule the city.” 
“Is everything in place for the ball?” Jungkook grits his teeth as he stares up into the man who could end him in one go, but is choosing to help the young gangster. “Your magic won’t fail us now?”
Seokjin winks at him, spending him a flying kiss as he says, “It's going to be dreadfully delightful.” Ending the Suhs, managing to take out some more people in big crime families in Chicago, and adding one more perfect woman to his growing collection of pawns. 
Sure, he was mad and about to destroy several lives in the process, but hell if he wasn’t half brilliant and good looking while doing so. 
-
“Mr. Jeon!” I gasp as I peer at the man at my penthouse doorstep, covered in white flakes of heavy, wet snow sticking to his black trench coat and bowler hat. Everyone, even most of the maids were out this afternoon which is why I find myself in front of the door to the penthouse. 
“Good evening, Y/L/N.” Jeon Jungkook smiles as he looks down at me earnestly. “Is your future husband not at home?” He whispers as he looks around the empty foyer, red-rimmed eyes glancing over the dim electric lights in the hallway. 
I flush. My mind was hazy remembering my kiss with him and the other man that is never far away, Kim Seokjin, from the depths of my dreams. My dreams need to leave me be or I may turn into a codfish with the way they keep my head spinning. They haunt me so, the way my brain demands my nightmares to be replayed over and over like this. 
“I’m afraid not, he said he’d be out for the night, taking care of something important at the office.” I say with a fake sigh, shaking my head. Truthfully, he’s been acting very strange lately and I can't quite put my finger on the reason for his odd behavior. Ever since he got that letter… Come to think of it, I haven’t seen any post since that strange night. I’ll ask Emily about it in the morning. 
“I see.” Jungkook says softly. The grandfather clock chimes from the sitting room and I am suddenly aware of what time it is. I’m severely underdressed in my baby blue lounge attire, completely ill-prepared for meeting company. Books about faraway lands with princes and kings were the only thing occupying my time this evening and I’m embarrassed to even think that. “In that case, your outfit will just have to do, I suppose…”
Jungkook suddenly steps closer to me in one long stride, closing the gap between me and him. My heart skips a beat, his pupils dilate, my words run dry as he snakes one arm around my back, the other holding my chin with his thumb and forefinger. 
“Mr. Jeon-” I stammer, unable to call for help, now that this man has me in his grasp. 
“I have been willing you to come and follow me, to give into your darkest desires, but still you resist me.” The young man hisses down at me, brows knit with confusion. “You are the only thing anyone talks about and I cannot stand it any longer.” My mouth hangs open. His nostrils flare as he makes his move. “You will be mine. Not locked away in this tower while Johnny is out and about with another man. You will be our new Alice.”
Before I can say anything, he pours a vile from his pocket into my mouth, holding it above my arms so I can’t smack it away. It tastes like roast turkey and strong alcohol and I try to claw and get away but I cannot as Jungkook holds my mouth open; my tongue feels numb and my arms feel like jelly, going limp in Jungkook’s arms. The only thing I can remember before completely blacking out is the little tag on the side of the bottle that says “DRINK ME”, tied with a pink ribbon hanging from the tiny glass and the smell of his cologne which reminds me of musk with a dash of black pepper. 
-
Faint sounds of brass and strings pull me from my unconscious state in a flurry. 
My brain is working hard, producing series and strings of thoughts. Why did Mr. Jeon Jungkook do that to me? Does Jonathan know where I am? In the same breath, where am I? What was that drink? Have I been poisoned? I look at myself on the red heart-patterned bedsheets. I look fine. There is no sign or feelings that I’ve been harmed, no bruises, and most importantly of all, there is no blood. There is no indicator at all that I’ve been harmed at all, which makes me sigh in relief. 
But still, where have I been taken? This surely is not a room in the Suh residence. 
A room with no windows, a giant bed in the middle of the room, large wooden pedestals with various wax candles lit drip down the sides surround me, red velvet curtains drape the walls making the warm room seem even more dim, and a wooden swing all decorate the space I find myself trapped in. 
I can feel the color drain from my face when I realize that I’ve been here before. In fact, I’ve been here many, many times - almost every night. Not in the flesh but in my dreams. The only thing that is missing are the two men I see every night…
All the little hairs on my body stand at alert, worry coloring my thoughts, and I feign a small gasp in the large room. 
With a lump in my throat and my heart thumping so hard I fear it might try to escape my chest, I run from the room. 
My blue nightgown flutters behind me, time seems to slow as my bare feet carry me through the rooms from my dreams - though it’s backwards this time. I dash like a mad person, twirling and twisting my way through the room with mirrors on every side, seeing myself panting like a dog running so hard in the reflective glass. Though, I am happy to see I have no scratches upon my face either. I run through the room with clocks hanging all over the walls chiming and ticking at different times, springing through the belly of a giant, tall grandfather clock. I trip over the hems of my dress in the room with a long table in the middle which appears to stretch on for miles in this long room. There are various tea sets, cups, and pots along with tea cakes and sweet treats placed in a perfectly chaotic mess on the table as the eyes of various animal heads stare at me from their places hanging on the walls. 
As I shimmy through the small door leading to the room with the walls full of water and sea creatures from the ocean, I pause my panting and sputtering as I spot Mr. Jung Jaehyun with his back pressed up against the glass. He is moaning, panting himself, a masquerade mask dangling in his hand, legs wrapped around the waist of a tall man in a vest who is rolling his hips sensually into his. My eyes widen as I figure out what the two of them are doing quickly and avert my attention. My thighs rub together, a strange fire grows in my lower abdomen, and I know I shouldn’t be looking but there is nothing but pure bliss on Mr. Jung’s face.
I can’t stop, I remind myself as my feet continue to carry me through the rooms I know so well. 
Slinking away across a far wall full of lobsters without being caught, I hear Mr. Jung Jaehyun mewl one singular name, “Johnny!” I want to turn around, catch my “future” husband's side profile as he makes love to another man, confirm it’s him, but my mind flashes back to meeting Jaehyun for the first (and only) time and how they touched each other so fondly. Jungkook’s words ring in my words as I hear laughing coming from beyond the rooms filled with tanks and gilled beasts. 
Keep going. I can make it out of this place from my nightmares. 
The next room is filled with more people, though it’s hazy at best in here. There are giant hookah pipes in the middle of floor cushions, people with and without masks on touching each other so unabashedly, some naked, half-nude, or still in their ball gowns all laying over each other in a pleasure-filled party I was slightly jealous I haven’t been invited to. 
“Ms. Y/L/N?” A deep yet clear baritone purrs over the sounds of jazz music and groans of love-making. I  turn my head to his voice, feet skidding to a halt as I look at Mr. Kim Namjoon in his half-naked glory, navy blue silk robe hanging off his shoulders exposing a lovely chest, half-lidded eyes tracing my form like I am a piece of delicate meat he wishes to indulge in. “What are you doing without your mask?” He snaps his fingers, chuckling lightly as he takes another drag of his long silver pipe. “Twins, get her a mask!”
“Where am I?” I query as I feel the presence of two figures slowly approaching me out of the dim haze. “Who are you people?” It feels wrong to be here, to witness this. It doesn’t feel right. I feel out of place and my body is begging me to run and my legs tremble like a fawn. 
His brows furrow as he takes the tube out of his mouth, blowing smoke rings in my face. “Who are you to question me, Y/N?” He snickers as the “twins” catch my arms, placing a mask over my face as I struggle. “You are but another “Alice” to me. Take her to the ball, you two. The rabbit and the hatter are dying to see her, I’m sure.” They tie the mask around me successfully, leading me out of this room into the next one which I know is the one where the floor is a giant chess board. 
“Please,” I plead with the good looking twins who march on like the loyal soldiers to this strange cause, “what is all this?” The music and the chatter and maniacal laughing is growing louder as we prance down the hallway with portraits of people who are dressed in all white and all red. “I just want to know…”
“Suppose we ought to tell her?” The taller of the two says after a moment of silence between the three of us. 
“Suppose we ought not to.” The shorter one shakes his head as he carries on in the quest to take me somewhere. “Boss will be mad.”
“You are to be the belle of the ball.” The taller one says with a viscous boxy grin.
“The new “Alice”.” The short one with fluffy lips nods this time.
“Everyone keeps saying that, but I don’t know what it means?” I say as I hold my breath, about to waltz into the strange chess-board-like room. 
“The most beautiful, wonderful, talented, special, magical-” The taller twin rambles on.
“The most perfect woman at The Wonderland Ball is called “Alice” until the next one.” The shorter one states softly as he inhales a giant breath. They both let me go, pushing me forward as the drapery of the simple heart-patterned curtain gives way and I am standing at the top of a grand staircase while hundreds of people from below all gasp and stare up at me. 
As soon as I regain my footing a spotlight hits me and causes me to shield me eyes away from the bright light bearing down upon me. The upbeat music falls silent and I am acutely aware that I am standing here in my loungewear and not properly dressed to be at the forefront of attention this evening.
“And now the moment you’ve all been waiting for!” The voice that makes my hair stand up on end purrs as his lush lips soothe the microphone on the little stage they’ve set up for the jazz band to play on. Kim Seokjin, my eyes lock with his which dance with mischief, his smile greedy,  dressed to the nines in a rich green suit. “The crowning of the belle of the ball, the apple of all our eyes, the one that shines brighter than anyone in the picture shows, Ms. Y/N Y/L/N!” 
A roar of cheering, clapping, and brass music erupts as a white haired-man with a stretched, gummy smile that doesn’t fade takes my hand and leads me down the black and white staircase. The noises seemingly die in my ears as the man on my arm says nothing, grins like a cat about to catch a mouse in its claws. Time slows, people moving and waving at me become a blur as I see who is waiting at the bottom of the staircase. 
Mr. Jeon Jungkook. 
The man on my arm notices how tense I am and he ever so slightly turns his head and says to me in a deep voice, “They are not going to harm you. Jungkook is infatuated with you.” My cheeks heat up. “Seokjin is helping him accomplish his dreams because he signed his life away to the servitude of others for as long as he shall live.”
“Signed his life away?” I breathe, eyes never leaving Jungkook in a white waistcoat.
“You can’t get something for free in this world.” The cat-like man growls as we are almost there. “You’ve heard of an eye for an eye, correct?” I node slightly. “A soul of servitude so he can produce strange magic, according to him and the Red Witch of Underland.” 
My heart nearly stops realizing what has happened. “The devil?”
“Bingo, babe.” The cat-man chuckles a deep rasp, sliding his arm away from mine. “Have fun.”
“Now you kids have fun chasing rabbits!” Seokjin’s voice crackles through the microphone. “Everyone, enjoy the last few hours of the wonderland ball!” More hooting and hollering echoes in the building as I am exchanged into Jungkook’s strong arms.
“I thought you’d never make it.” He smiles from under his white mask at me. He takes my hand and leads me to be embraced on the dance floor. Seokjin smirks at us as he begins to sing a popular pop song everyone swoons at. 
“Would you like to tell me what this is all about?” I query with a sneer on my lips. “Why am I here? Why have you poisoned me?”
“I have not nor would I ever harm you.” Jungkook grips my waist tighter. “I merely gave you a strong sedative so that I could bring you to our wonderful palace.” 
“Why?” I question as he twirls me around his outstretched arm.
“Because from the moment I bumped into you, you have been the only thing consuming my mind.” He earnestly tells me, sorrow coating his eyes. “I’m not sure what trap Johnny has ensnared or tricked you in but I very much hate seeing him lock you away from the world.”
“You’re wrong.” I state angrily, glaring at him.
“He doesn’t care about you. He likes to frolic about with diplomats’ sons, not farmers’ daughters.” Jungkook smiles at me. 
“That’s not true…” I mumble, my eyes looking away from his red-rimmed ones boring down upon me. “I-I am marrying Jonathan for my own personal reasons.”
“Oh, ho?” Jungkook softly chuckles, leaning over, turning my gaze back to him as he gently caresses my cheek. “Do you really believe that, darling?”
“I do...I do! I-I came here willingly.” I tremble, my facade I’ve been trying to convince myself of  this whole time crackling under the pressure of his words. “I l-love…” My words linger as I look beyond Jungkook, looking up to see, “...Jonathan…” walking toward myself in the middle of the dance floor. 
“Jeon!” Jonathan says, Mr. Jung Jaehyun trailing behind him, eyes wide and scared when they find mine. The male in the waistcoat holding me turns his head to the noise, the brass music climaxing, the gasps of people Jonathan is stepping between couples dancing in the soft electric light from above - I feel like my heart is going to burst. My future husband pulls his arm back, fists clenched, ready to hurt Jungkook, and with an exhale I close my eyes fearing the worst was about to ensue. 
The electric lights in the strange ballroom give out in the same second. 
People scream all around me, a loud thud is heard and I feel like something unexpected is about to occur, the atmosphere heavy and full of invisible pressure. 
“Release the jabberwocky!” A voice echoes as chaos ensues. 
“Come with me.” A voice purrs, ripping me away from Jungkook’s arms. I feel almost empty as shouting and yelling break out in the middle of the dance floor. “I will protect you, Y/N, my crown jewel.”  My stomach pits hearing him say my name, tickling my ear like the serpent that led Eve to eat the apple of her demise. 
Kim Seokjin.
With a snap of his fingers, we are back in the room I started out this evening in and where my dreams always have me end at. I land on the bed in a huff and he ends up sitting upon the swing, looking at me with a triumphant smirk on his luscious lips. There is a certain air about him now that doesn’t seem so threatening, so serious now for some reason. Perhaps it’s him sitting upon the swing like that of a child? I haven’t the slightest clue. 
“Where am I?” I demand, glowering at Seokjin from across the way.
“Curiosity often leads to trouble, my dearest Y/N.”  Seokjin chuckles darkly, eyes roaming my body, a knowing look on his features. “I think before your marriage you are looking for a little trouble, if you catch my drift.” 
Trouble…
My mind completely spirals remembering the scenes of people entangled with one another, their mouths working in tandem with each other, their slippery pink tongues entwined in a passionate battle for dominance. Mr. Jung Jaehyun’s face twisted in pleasure, moaning and mewling as his lover - my future husband - was thrusting vigorously. 
A lightbulb finally goes off in my head. 
“You want me to give into you both then my dreams will end?” My voice shakes as I query to Seokjin who continues to lightly push back and forth on the swing. “Then you will let me leave?” 
His eyes flicker with a hungry vigor to them, gleaming in the dim candlelight. “Precisely.” His soft voice cuts the atmosphere like a sharp blade, leaving me with a chill radiating down my spine. “Let’s have some fun, “Alice”.” 
“As long as you promise I am to be set free from all of...this.” I gesture around the room as he makes a come hither motion with his fingers at me.  
“You have my word.” 
Somehow, I don’t believe him, but I am desperate for any way out of this wretched place I can find. 
So, I will use the body I was blessed with to the fullest extent.  
I am a loyal woman. I step toward the man on the swing, my hands coming up to the ties around my chest and my waist. His eyes spark with a ravenous hunger in the depths of his orbs. I know that I am not doing a decent thing. Seokjin snaps his fingers again, all his clothes disappearing but his green top hat, vanishing before my very eyes. I know I am more than what I am succumbing to right now. But my stomach does feel hot and my thighs rubbing together is making me feel faint for some reason. My garments fall to the floor in a soft patting sound and I lose my breath in the same moment.
Don’t tell me I actually want this…?
I stand in front of him on the swing and I can’t help but bite my lip as my eyes roam his pale figure, tracing down his collarbones to his sculpted abdominal muscles he has been hiding. Did he sell his soul to the devil to become handsome too I wonder?   
“So beautiful.” He revels looking at me unabashed, a wolfish grin spreading across his pretty face. Part of me wants him to touch me, to caress the underside of my breast, to trace the outline of my hips with his fingertips, but he doesn not. 
I have to remind myself this isn’t for me. This is for the man that has been tormenting me. 
“Get me ready for you.” Seokjin commands, smirk still spread across his face. I comply, dropping to my knees to be faced with a large member swinging forth from the middle of his legs on the swing. “And you will address me as “Sir”, understand?”
“Yes, sir.” I respond, biting my lip as I look from his eyes to his member once more.
“Suck.” He chuckles lightly, pointing to his middle and I can’t help but follow this simple instruction. 
I don’t tease him, though I’m not really sure I know what I am doing in the first place. I swirl the flat of my tongue over his mushroom-tipped head several times. He moans in response, his hands coming off the swing’s ropes to hold my hair from my face as I swallow him further down my wet cavity. My middle aches and pulses, empty, missing something as I steady myself against Seokjin’s thighs.
“Good little girl.” Seokjin hums, his sound voice making me feel appreciated. The sound vibrating through to my own middle, making me groan around him.
I bob my head up and down his long length, enjoying the way he hums and gasps in response to my efforts. It’s a little hard to breathe I think as I continue my pace, nose hitting Seokjin’s pubic bone, smelling the most intimate part of him.
My dominant hand grabs his member at the base, working him in tandem with my mouth. Up and down his thick member I go, reveling in every twitch and rumble that flies out of his throat. The swing starts to sway with my rhythmic movements, bobbing him back and forth with vigor, tears climb to my eyes.  The tip of him hits the back of my mouth, making me gag and choke on his wonderful cock. The heat was pooling in the middle of my stomach and I fear I am going to lose my mind. I pick up the motions of my mouth and hand, tears skating down my pinkened cheeks, his grip tightening around the base of my skull, digging into my scalp.
It burns… But, I also enjoy it. This feeling...so wet and tight and I feel so evil and sinful but the pleasure is driving me mad.       
“Baby girl.” There’s warning in his tone as I pop off his cock in an instant, looking up to him with big worried eyes. His head was leaned back, not focused on looking directly at myself, but the feeling of my lips and fingertips. “Up.” He commands once more, head twisting back to a comfortable position to stare at me.
I scramble to my feet, missing the feeling of him in my mouth already, not to mention aching for him in the middle of my legs. I rub my thighs together for some easy friction, knowing that it won’t help me much at this point.
Seokjin moves his hand to stroke against his giant member in his palm and I lock my orbs in place on the slit of his cock where a clear liquid was oozing out. My mind is truly hazy at best, as I just stand there and watch him stroke himself up and down in a lazy fashion. I bite my lip once more. 
I do want this. I am almost ashamed to admit that I want this man. 
“Are you going to be good and let me use you?” Seokjin’s dirty words make my middle pool and contort with more of a raging fire. 
“Y-Yes, sir.” I say again, cheeks hot and damp from sucking his cock moments ago. 
His nostrils flare, his cock twitches in his grasp as he motions to sit upon his middle. “I bet you’re so wet for me.” He chuckles, smile darkening with his words.                          
Seokjin eases me down on his thick member, my hole so wet, so slick, allowing him to stretch my clenching walls in an easy motion. I gasp, eyes popping out of my head. My nails dig into his shoulder blades, back arching with his giant, twitching dick tight inside of me. I wrap my legs around his lean waist, his pale skin flexing in the candlelight with his movements as he stills, letting my hips sink down into the base of his cock.
“Baby girl.” Seokjin purrs, breath tickling my ear as he throbs inside of me. “I need you.” He growls, littering the crook of my neck with sloppy kisses. He positions us just so on the swing, readying us to begin when he deems necessary.
“P-Please use me, s-sir-r!” I mumble in the base of his neck, feeling high on this pleasure-filled pain. 
“I live to serve.” 
I gasp as he starts moving his hips inside of my center, bucking up into my body with a fevered pace instantly. The swing moves back and forth and I feel like the motion is going to make me feel his body sliding in and out of me too well. I cling to him for dear life, my grip surely bruising him or harming him in some way as he slides in and out of my slicked out center at a brutal rhythm.
Tears find my eyes again as he nips at my neck, marking me up with tender love bites. I’m a howling, moaning mess, losing my sanity. I am finally full of Seokjin’s girth, filling me up beyond desire.
Seokjin kisses my lips then in his, melting our mouths together in a hurry. He holds my face in his palms, grunting and groaning for me, and only me. His tongue enters my mouth in search of something unknown, moaning into my lips laced together with his hot mouth connected with my pink tongue. He rolls his saliva coated tongue into mine in haste, need seeping into my senses, consuming my thoughts as he thrusts up in me, using the swing as a propellant to ease us forward and backward.
“Feels...so-o..good~!” I moan in between our passionate kisses. 
Seokjin just growls like a feral animal in response. The tip of his cock kisses my cervix continuously, brushing past a spot inside of me that instantly makes me quake. He rockets himself against me, rutting his body against my core in sync with his hips slamming into mine. Seokjin expels filth from his mouth about filling me to the brim with his seed, seeing my stomach swollen and full of his children, his warm breath hitting my ear making me shudder in response.
I can’t focus, my climax getting ready to pop at any moment. Wet noises fill the dark room, as Seokjin’s rough speed of his length in and out of my molten, wet center continues. My erect nipples swirl on his pale chest, circling quickly as he bounces me up and down his giant cock, swinging through the air like some sexual trapeze artist.
“Are you going to be good to me?” He asks me, smirk present in his tone, pace almost blinding now as he pushes in and out of me with a need so heavy and strong I can practically smell it rising from his skin. “Are you going to let me fill you up, my little doll?” Seokjin snarls into my skin.
“Pleaseeeee!” I practically scream, eyes flying open as he hits my center at just the right spot that makes me see white. 
“Ah-ah!” He tsks. “What do we say?”
“Please, sir!” I mewl and gasp, thighs quaking in his hold, my juices squelching out of me as he continues to thrust into my sensitive molten core. “Seokjin!” I cry while he growls into the scorching skin of my neck inhaling sharply as he slams his hips into my shivering body. “Sir!”
Seokjin grunts, cock spurting his seed into me with a need so raw, so feral he finds his footing hard to maintain on the swing, stilling us from moving about, holding my hips tightly down upon him. He sucks harshly on my skin as he too shudders and grunts, biting down on the crook of my neck, stretching my clenching walls around his member as he fills me with his hot white seed.
My cries of pleasure fill the small room, my pleasure-filled haze coming to a close as Seokjin shifts us - still joined together - to the bed in the middle of the room. I hold onto Seokjin as he keeps his seed inside of me, feeling like I just had the ride of my life on top of him. My climax dies down, my first high fading away, fog around my brain being lifted temporarily as my nails rake over shoulders I’ve definitely marked up. 
A cool, damp towel appears with a wave of his arms, stroking my middle with it delicately cleaning up the mess I’ve made. “How does it feel to be connected with the devil?” Seokjin sneers as he pulls out of me, making my center ache and twitch for him. 
My eyes grow wide and my lips part but before I can say anything Jungkook bursts in the room.
“Am I late?” Jungkook pants as he looks awestruck by me on the bed. 
“For a very important date.” I gaze back to Seokjin who is now fully dressed, smirking that soft, playful smile like he usually does at Mr. Jeon. “Don’t worry, I was just getting her ready for you, Jungkookie.” 
Jungkook eyes him with narrowed orbs, but buys the lie Seokjin is selling and proceeds to strip himself of his white waistcoat. “What is on the menu tonight?” His red-rimmed irises bore into mine and I feel self-conscious suddenly. He circles the bed in the manner like that of a wolf would as he finishes stripping himself of any dressy garments, though his slacks remain on. 
 “The one you most desire out of everything in this world.” Seokjin purrs, stepping up to take his seat on his pedestal high above us. 
Is he going to watch us?
“Fuck,” Jungkook growls, dropping to his knees in front of the bed suddenly. He pulls me closer to him by my ankles, throwing my thighs apart so my center is exposed to him in the rawest form. He stares at my glistening middle as I try to close my legs with a little, pathetic whimper.
“Don’t.” The rabbit-like man moans wantonly, holding onto my ankles loosely. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful, you know that, right?” His hands glide up my thighs achingly slow, holding me in pace for his eyes to ravage as they please.
The fire in my lower stomach has returned, hungry and ready to go for more.
His warm fingertips make it to my inner thighs, kneading the flesh there tenderly, so close to my throbbing core that I almost beg him with a cry to dip down into me, but I refrain, hanging on to every trace or brush of his hands against my scorching flesh.
“What do you want, my darling?” He groans into my inner thigh, lips ghosting my sensitive flesh there, inching closer to my heated skin with his upper body.
“Please.” I finally ask, begging, almost choking out the word, forgetting Seokjin watching us from above.
His dominant hand finally finds my nether lips, tracing them up and down with his two longest fingers but not exactly touching me where I am aching quite yet. “Please what?” He teases, stroking me up and down slowly, holding his feral gaze in mine, amber eyes seemingly on fire.
“Please, Jungko-“
He slaps my middle with little force or malice behind it, but I jolt, mewling aloud, wanting him to secretly do it again.
Jungkook goes back to tracing my lips in the middle of my body, smug smirk seated on his devilishly handsome face. “You are so wet, darling.” He slaps me again, though this time I want it more than I’d actually care to admit.
“Jung-” I choke on my words.
He slaps me again, this time with slightly more force behind his fingertips. I hiss out a breath, staring at him with my mouth slightly ajar, brows turned up, looking down at him with half-lidded eyes already.
“I have to have a taste.” He kisses my inner thigh as he slowly traces his thumb over my slicked out folds.
I let out a wanton cry as he hums into my thighs, growling low and deep. I swear there’s a smile in his voice as he works with his mouth and fingertip in tandem. “Mine.” He breathes, sucking on the sensitive flesh of my innermost thigh, marking me with a throaty growl.
“J-Jungkook..!”
I am a mess. I let loose a series of pants, breathless moans as he works my coil in the pit of my stomach tighter with every brush or groan he grants my hot body. I am melting under Jungkook’s touch, my body feeling sticky, arousal dripping from my middle while he circles my delicate clit.
His thumb was increasing his pace of gliding over my bundle of nerves, still slow, still making my breathing become erratic, but the desire for Jungkook to do more was driving me insane. I’ve had a taste of sex and look at me wanting more. I didn’t know if I could be in the position to ask for more. But I wanted him to place those perfect, beautiful sinful lips on my molten core. Jungkook’s breath fans over my middle as he continues to stroke me down there.
I miss the twitch confined to the middle of his pants from the man watching us from above with eager need. 
As if sensing my need, his tongue swipes a slow stripe through my folds, the cool of his muscle against my exposed center making me black out for a moment, the sensation far too much for me to bear with right now. His snort of laughter brings me back to reality as he swirls his pink tongue at my empty entrance.
Jungkook laps at my folds as if he is a starved man, hungry, desperate for his next meal. I keen, gripping onto the base of his golden torso as laps at me. I’d think grounding myself on top of Jungkook’s head would make me saner, gripping his strands of hair as he goes to town in my middle. But really, it makes me feel completely mad, like I’ve gone insane.
The feral, untamed animal-like noises that escape his throat drive me absolutely wild, my skin on fire with need and want. My nails cling to his scalp, dragging him closer to my middle as he ravages my core. He maneuvers his two longest fingers through the glossy slick, lubing his digits to breach my entrance.
“Jungkook!” I gasp, choking on my words as he makes a come hither motion with his fingers, splitting my velvet walls to open for him.
Jungkook swirls his tongue over my little pearl of sensitive nerves, lapping and sucking my flesh like he's never eaten a thing in his life. He continues his very audible growling and moaning, husk in his voice incredibly thick.
“Let go, baby.” He coos into my middle as I jolt and shake, his digits brushing past the most delicious spot deep inside of my clenching walls. “Give me your release.”
His words finally tip me over the edge.
I tighten my hold on him, gritting my teeth in the process. My head falls backward on the sheets, eyes screwed closed as Jungkook slurps every inch of my middle clean, not leaving anything to go to waste.
“Kookie,” I sputter out, the feeling of his tongue and fingers becoming too much for me. “I-I’m c-c-cumming-!”
As I say the last of my words, the world comes undone around me for the second time today, my tight coil finally popping. Blinding white stars coat my vision for a second, my body shivering and shaking as I drip out onto the flat of Jungkook’s tongue.
He laps up my sensitive hole up with more snarls, more feral noises escaping his body. Tears flow down my face as I unhinge my nails from his silky blonde strands, trying to push him away from my overly sensitive flesh with pathetic mewls of protest escaping my throat.
More. My brian prompts me to continue to sate my undying lust burning inside of me. I need more.
“Jungkook,” I beg while his tongue still explores my throbbing hole, giving my sensitive skin rapt attention. “Jungkookie. Please. I c-can’t.” I tug at his blinde hair gently, trying to get him to stop teasing me with his tongue.
He doesn't stop and I can only think of one thing to ask before I lose my damn mind with him between my thighs.
“Jungkook.” I shudder, high building up once more. “Please fuck me.”
Everything in the room stills, the only sound heard was our heavy breathing. 
He looks up from my sensitive core, brows knit together as he looks into my eyes with such a passionate gaze of uncertainty. My juices were coating the bottom half of his face, his blonde hair is in a state of disarray, as he proceeds to slowly rise to his feet, looking over me on the bed.
“What?” He questions incredulously down at my fucked out form. Jungkook looks at me as if I am the most fragile thing in the world, as if I would burst into flames at any moment. “My darling, my love, there’s no going back if we-“
“I know.” I smirk up to the gorgeous gangster in all of the Windy City. “I want this too.”
His nostrils flare, his eyes widen, and his gaze softens. Jungkook looks down at me with something akin to lust, which makes my heart rate increase...
“Up.” He commands, raw husk pouring out of his tone as he starts to undo his pants, the zipper noise almost jarring in the quiet of the night.
I do as I’m told. I’ve fallen far down the rabbit hole now, I think as I shift on the bed. Standing was a little difficult as he’s just given me one of the best feelings I’ve ever had. I keep my eyes glued to Jungkook. His hands travel sensually down his tiny waist to his slacks he unbuttons. I am gasping, unable to take my eyes off the very beautiful sight of his thick cock bouncing, finally free from the confines of his dress pants. The tip was red and angry, a bead of precum adorning the slit of his mushroom-like head. He was long, girthy, and I want nothing more than it inside of myself at this very moment.
Jungkook grips the base of his cock with his hand while he steps out of his pants, giving his shaft a few pumps up and down while I watch with an open mouth.
“I’ve dreamt of this moment for so long.” He confesses softly, reaching for me with his free hand. I inch closer to him, gliding my hands over his defined body, admiring his lithe, yet sturdy frame. My fingers hungrily trace every ridge, every contour of his golden torso. Jungkook was so warm, so wonderful, and I am slightly kicking myself for not giving into him sooner. “To have you,” he continues, kissing up the side of my neck. 
“Please.” I beg him again, eyes flickering back and forth between his. 
“Turn around.” He leans in to kiss me with passionate need. His lips molding into mine as I cling to him for more. I taste my essence on his tongue which makes me whimper into his strong hold. “I’m going to fuck you now, my love.”
Again, I don’t need to be told twice as he guides me to where he wants me, bending me at the waist so my fingers dig into the unkept sheets below, my backside open and exposed to him.
“So pretty for me.” I hear the grin in his deep rumble. Jungkook slaps my bottom, granting him a hiss to escape my throat. I whine when he does it softly several more times, making my head soar.
I hear him spit before I feel the extra saliva lubricant coat my backside, the cool of his juices combined with mine was driving me up a wall.
“Jungkook!” I gasp.
He groans when I call for him, pushing his fat head of a cock at my aching, empty hole, wanting him to finally join the two of us.
“Darling,” he sounds like he’s straining to hold back. “Baby, please, fuck!” He grunts, splitting my walls inch by agonizingly slowly. I moan as he stretches me wide, entering me like he owns me. 
He thrusts inside of me all the way with one snap of his hips suddenly. A cry leaves my lips along with a strangled one from the man inside of me. My eyes widen as I realize that he’s not going to go easy on me tonight, he’s going to fuck me on his terms. I was in for a wild ride this evening.
Jungkook leans the front of himself over my sticky back, pressing our heated flesh together more, growling to the outside shell of my ear, nipping the flesh under my lobe while sliding in and out of me with a brutal pace he’s set.
“Baby…” he moans in my ear, the deep purr vibrating throughout his body making my breathing hitch and sob. His hips snapping into mine with a rhythm, I swear, no human man could ever achieve. Liquid was flowing down my eyes as the push and pull of Jungkook slamming his giant cock into my velvet folds repeatedly already had me tearing the sheets in two with my nails.
“Jung! Ah! Kook!”
Seokjin glides his hand over his cock from above the bed, matching the rhythm Jungkook’s hips produce, enjoying the wonderful show. 
I gasp this over and over like a prayer falling from my lips. My eyes are squeezed shut, my body hot with the raw purpose to feel Jugnkook inside of my heated center. His cock pushes in and out of me at a fevered pace, making my vision blur, seeing far too many white stars.
My brain is fuzzy as he hits the spot inside of me that blinds me, pleasure swimming in my veins. My third climax was surely on the way. 
“Baby,” Jungkook grunts, one of his arms snaking up my torso, his long fingers finding one of my bouncing breasts. He starts pinching my erect nipple, holding on to me tighter as we slide back and forth off of one another.
My coil was wound so tight, I don’t know if I’d be able to last much longer. Especially not with Jungkook’s fingers attaching to my hardened nipple, his lips to the crook of my neck, and his cock slamming in and out of my clenching middle with a fevered need.
He bucks into me faster, my walls clamping down on him, my coil about to pop, about to burst forth again. I can’t hold myself up any longer, my legs shaking violently. My knuckles are turning white with how hard I am clawing at the heart patterned sheets.
“Jungkook! I-“ I mewl, but I don’t get to finish my thought. 
In a split second, Jungkook pulls out of my middle, flipping me over and letting me fall onto my back so I could be face to face with him. Jungkook climbs on top of me quickly, wanting to resume his feverish pace immediately, hunger and need in his amber gaze. He settles between my legs, pushing himself back into my slicked out center easily, restarting from where he last left off.
I gasp when he enters me, clinging to his shoulders, holding him while the lewd squelching noises in the room continue to grow, faster, louder. He grips onto my hips, guiding me at a blinding speed I didn’t know he could achieve. Is he a victim of the devil as well?
Sweat was pouring off our bodies, my brain unable to produce a sane thought as he grunts and moans my name, his red orbs never leaving my face as he rockets his cock into my folds like it was his job.
It happens again, the very right feeling deep inside of my body, the one that makes me grit my teeth, that makes me see hundreds of tiny white stars.
“Jung! Kook~!” I scream into the quiet room, tears flowing from my hues as I card my fingers through his blonde strands, trying to make a purchase on his roots.
My hands travel down his backside as he snarls, “I’m going to make you my wife! Not some wannabe from the Northside!” Jungkook huffs, his movements slowing down, one of his thumbs finding my folds again, circling my aching clit in hurry - a stark contrast to earlier. “I’m going to claim you as my own.”
Seokjin smiles like he’s just won the lottery, masturbating to the sight of both his clients intertwined, fucking onto each other with unbridled lust. He comes then watching his new toy’s back arch, breasts in the air, Jungkook’s frame pounding into her with hungry trepidation. 
I grab onto the ample flesh of his bottom, feeling the world come tumbling around myself once more. Letting my body shake and quake on top of the sheets, my third orgasm taking me by force. I feel complete - feel whole for some reason. I am so completely taken aback with the storm rippling through my body in pleasureful tremors, one right after the other, I cannot even begin to breathe properly.
He lets a feral snarl rip through his body as he pumps into my leaking middle a few more times, my whole being consumed by Jungkook. He leans over me, sucking my neck colors of purples and dark reds and I scream as his cock swells inside of my velvet walls, releasing his own essence into my womb, holding him there like a vice grip as he spurts his seed deep inside of me.
Once our highs come to a close, I run my fingers through his hair, his throbbing cock still joined inside of my middle. We both pant, holding the other for dear life, finally together, and fulfilled with one other. Jungkook kisses along my jaw, moaning my name, telling me what an amazing baby doll I am as his cock finally softens inside of my aching cunt.
“Bravo.” Seokjin claps as he walks down the wooden stairs. “You both did very well!” He chuckles darkly. I squeak in surprise. I forgot he was there and I scramble to cover myself with the soiled sheets. 
“Okay, Kim,” Jungkook says as he kisses my nose, pulling out and picking up my clothes and handing them to me. He dresses in his undergarments and dress pants quickly, buttoning them up as he turns to the man all in green. “You had your show.” I listen as I dress myself with haste, back turned to the two men. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked: invested the money overseas, gotten rid of the competition and family in this lovely city, got you a new “Alice”, and even let you watch us play ball. I think it’s time to set us free.”
“Yes,” the mad man snickers, darkness clouding his tone, “you both have served me well. But nobody is leaving my perfectly curated speakeasy.” 
I turn around and my heart is dropping to the floor. Shock is written all over Jungkook’s face as I clench my jaw in guilt. 
“But, I’m afraid you both made a deal with me, and I don’t give up my new toys so easily.” Seokjin caresses Jungkook’s face in his pale hand, while holding my gaze with a sense of gentle anger. “You can’t always get what you want. But hey, look on the bright side: at least you have each other.” 
---
A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this trip down the rabbit hole! Likes and reblogs are very much appreciated! 
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an-annyeoing-writer · 3 years
Text
vulnerability. – chap. 2.
Story info:
Pair: Byun Baekhyun x Reader
Rating: +18 for mentions of s*x and violence (future chapters)
Genre: angst, smut
Chapter info:
Release date: 4th June 2021
Word count: 2 751
Warnings: mentions of criminal activity
Vulnerability Masterlist || Fanfiction Masterlist || Ko-Fi
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Taglist:
@shesdreaminginoverdose @mybiasdashboard @marimsun @byuns-asscheeks @multi--kpop--fanfics @vunv @making-me-blush @skittlez-area512 @bloopbloopkai @byuns-asscheeks @baekyeonoreo @kimcarinaa
Please, always comment on the newest chapter if you wish to be added to/removed from the taglist. I will be also checking the tags, so if you're shy – feel free to leave a note this way.
Previous (Chap. 1.)
Chap. 2.
“What’s my name?”
“Baekhyun.”
“Wrong.”
A stroke of the riding crop over her chest makes the woman whimper. She’s older than him, but it doesn’t matter. Right now, everything about her – her age, name, wants and aversions – they’re all reduced to the leather collar around her neck.
“How are you to address me?”
“Master” she doesn’t hesitate.
The man does, though – he stares her down just for a few seconds, as if to judge her, before he speaks again.
“Good.”
Her gaze follows him as he walks slowly around her, observing her body’s reaction. She’s not to move, not to ask questions. She’s to accept it.
“I’m going to beat you with the crop now. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Bend over.”
* * *
The day was long, but Baekhyun found himself relieving stress in one of his favorite ways.
This time, he sat in The Queen of Spades alone, sipping whiskey and silently watching people around him, eventually ending up staring into the alcohol’s surface instead, until it disappeared entirely and there were only a few pieces of ice at the bottom left to look at. Once they melted, he’d drink them up as well – and it would probably happen, as he wasn’t about to leave anytime soon. There was not much to do.
His eyes landed on the small cut on the inside of his palm, placed next to the glass; the cut was still fresh, but not deep enough to require medical assistance, or even bandaging for that matter. Accidents happened – in some jobs more than in others. The best he could do was to make sure that accidents like this would not follow him back home.
He heard his phone vibrate, but it took him a few seconds to pick it up.
“Hello.”
“Hi there, Hyunie.”
The familiar voice made him sigh deeply with annoyance.
“You don’t sound happy to hear me,” the feminine voice on the other side spoke in slight offense.
“Sorry, it’s not your fault, Luna, I thought I’d be off for the night,” he admitted honestly; the woman’s presence was not something he minded much, but she wasn’t one who ever brought good news, so his mood instantly dropped the moment he heard her voice.
“Well, tonight you can rest, I have something for tomorrow, though.”
Baekhyun exhaled, already rubbing his temples.
“Spill it, I guess.”
“It’s an office. They have a very good security and our hacker couldn’t get in, so we need someone to go there and get some physical copies out, take a few pics and then leave them where they were. No footprints. We need the copies by Monday, and I’ll send someone to give you the details in person tomorrow.”
“Alright. I’ll be waiting.”
“One more thing.”
“What’s that?” He was ready to hang up; thinking became too tiring. But tomorrow; tomorrow, he’d consider this; now was his time off.
“You did leave footprints today, everyone knows. That you got in trouble, and the police were called. What if they recognize you?”
The man snorted in response.
“No way, I know our safety measures. I wouldn’t let them see my face. It was just an accident, okay. A harmless one. I know better and it won’t happen again” he elaborated, feigning confidence – anything just to make this conversation end.
“Are you sure it was harmless?” Luna was the most composed as she spoke, her voice completely ridden of emotions, and that was what started to worry him. As he knew, carelessness and light humor were typical of her, not this seriousness and solemnity.
“What do you mean?”
“The police have a sample of your blood” she finally spilled. “It wasn’t enough to extract your DNA, but it’s already something. Be careful next time, could you?”
His heart dropped. Confidence was gone.
“…Got it.”
“That’s all. Just take care of yourself, Hyunie.”
“Yeah…”
“Sleep well tonight. You have a long day ahead.” She made a quiet smooch sound.
“Goodnight, Luna.”
The line went dead.
For the next few minutes, Baekhyun stared straight ahead, seemingly deep in thought.
In fact, though, he was depleted of thoughts. He was stuck in the bubble of no thinking, no reasons, no emotions, as his brain processed the information it just gathered, but the process was happening outside of his consciousness.
He wished to stay in his thoughtless bubble for longer, but the thin barrier between his consciousness and his internal dialogue finally broke, and he was flooded with everything that he’d been keeping at bay ever since the conversation started.
And so, Byun Baekhyun started contemplating all the things that he preferred to keep away from himself, so as to not spiral into depression and frustration.
He chose a job, thinking, that the breach of law will give him the freedom he desperately wanted.
He ended up dependent on other people to the point where not even the law could protect him anymore; exactly the opposite – the law didn’t seem much of an obstacle anymore, in comparison to all the other things he got tangled in. It wasn’t a lifestyle that one could escape, and he’d learned it way too late.
He tried to achieve independence, but he became a pawn in other people’s hands, irrelevant to the big things happening around; trusted and respected, yet simply disposable at someone else’s command.
There was only one way he knew that could help him regain the sense of control.
And that was how Byun Baekhyun coped.
* * *
“Bend over.”
She obliges without a question, leaning over the table in front of her. Apparently, he’s interested in her behind, rather than the chest that was only a bit pink from the previous hits. She’s an obedient, but slightly frisky one, one that aims to please while also hoping for some pleasure for herself, getting bored easily, but also fussy if something goes not as she wants. Baekhyun breaks her spirit every time they meet, ridding her of any remaining selfishness.
But she enjoys the pain. He makes sure she enjoys nothing else.
The first hit makes her moan, rather than resist. Her skin is smooth, with no scars, and he makes sure it won’t stay this way for much longer, at least for the next few weeks that it will take to heal after he’s done.
The next few swats must feel nice as well, but then her voice falters and turns into quiet whimpers. She doesn’t try to move away, instead, she leans back, at least for the next few hits until it becomes too much and she tries to move away instead.
She doesn’t speak, and neither does he; the sound of the riding crop hitting her bottom mixes with her breath becoming strained and whines becoming louder from pain.
* * *
It was a few days later that Baekhyun sat again in his favorite, cozy area of The Queen of Spades, with a man taller, but younger than himself; it was not so difficult to be taller than Baekhyun, but at the age of 29, most of the people in his circle of closest friends were younger, while most of the ones in his work field were older, which was some sort of a good sign, meaning that he’s worth more than most people of his age.
29 years old – a confusing age. He should have had his life figured out by now, and, to some extent, he had – he knew what he was good at, and what he could do to slowly ensure himself a stable retirement. But to say he was pleased with his career of choice would probably be a misstatement. Yet, that was what he had, and that was what he needed to accept.
They sat on the leather couch that he usually occupied. The taller, bar-styled table and two chairs were on the right side of the couch – he usually used them when carrying on serious conversations. But currently, he was there just to rest, and so in use was the couch. He glanced at the man on his side – leaning his head on Baekhyun’s shoulder, looking fragile despite, in comparison to Baekhyun, being the stronger silhouette.
“Don’t fall asleep, Sehun.”
No answer came, and he didn’t feel a strong need to disturb the other’s rest. Maybe it wouldn’t be too appropriate to sleep in such a place, making an impression of getting drunk over the limits – which was not really the case, alcohol wasn’t the reason for Sehun’s tiredness – however, in fact, who was there to judge them? Especially with Baekhyun being a regular customer who knew everyone else with such a title; and most of them knew what he was up to as well, and why the people he came with usually were not in the most energetic moods.
The music playing in The Queen of Spadeswas usually quiet and climatic, R&B and jazz tunes mixed with the voices of people, and people coming here usually didn’t try stir the bar’s aura.
In fact, it was exactly the opposite.
The moment a person entered the bar, welcomed by the dim space of browns, beiges, woods, and crystals, their soul instantly filled with the calm atmosphere. The aesthetic and climate gave a clear cue, that intruding them wouldn’t be worth much; it was the best to accept and follow, to allow the place to create the unique experience.
“Sehun, are you sleeping?” Baekhyun glanced at the other, and the man only hummed lowly in response. Baekhyun’s shoulder began to cramp, so he gently lifted the other’s head and rested it on the couch’s backrest instead. Sehun instantly moved a little to adjust, but it didn’t seem like he’d want to get up anytime soon. Baekhyun eyed the bruises on his neck – slowly darkening fingerprints of his own.
The bar’s door suddenly opened, catching his attention with noise when the door accidentally hit the wall. Two girls walked in: one of them he saw come here a few times before, alone and not, and the other… well, the other he had not only seen before, but would most likely see in the future as well. What a coincidence.
[F/n] looked nothing like when he last saw her; primarily because, at the museum, she wore modest clothes that suited the situation. Now, in tight fitted pants and a loose shirt exposing a fair amount of cleavage, she looked way more like a girl of her age, similar to many others that came to the bar every day. If not for the fact he knew her, he wouldn’t have paid her much attention now; however, he did know a bit, and if not her appearance, then at least the personality behind it kept his eyes on her until she looked over her shoulder, sparing him a shy glance, as though either knowing he’s looking at her, or, at the very least, expecting him in the same place as he usually was – in fact, he guessed it would be the latter.
She smiled at him softly, and he reciprocated the smile, tension on his face dissipating; the smile grounded him, in a way, reminding him of the fact that, just as he could watch anyone now, he could also be watched. His presence also didn’t make her as tense as it did before, which was relieving – he started worrying if he didn’t go too far during their official first meeting. The word sensitive written on the page of his notebook wasn’t taken out of the blue. She was fragile, he could tell; not in a bad way – but he knew how his demeanor impacted her back then. But that was sort of a proof in itself, a proof of her determination, because despite this impact, she didn’t back out when she had the chance to.
He still felt that she’s not completely aware of what came with the lifestyle – hobby? activity? – that she was getting herself into. Yet, when he thought about it, how could anyone know that for sure, before they had a taste of what’s it like? If anything, he could give her a chance, he thought; a trial, to see if not only she’s in for her own indulgence, but if she can handle what he himself is interested in.
“Wazzup?” Sehun’s voice sounded by his side. The man was undoubtedly good at recognizing his changes in moods. When Baekhyun didn’t feel confident enough to say too much, it was usually Sehun who asked the questions, allowing him to spill out what was on his mind.
“Nothing much. There’s a girl, though, she wants to join” he explained slowly. Sehun’s face didn’t change at the statement.
“You want to take her?”
“Not sure yet.”
“Ah, so.”
“What do you think?” Baekhyun glanced down at the other; Sehun didn’t look at him, his eyes remained closed.
“Well, I don’t know her. But since Byeoli moved out, your circle’s been kind of empty. There’s me, Chaejang, Lisa… well, yeah, that’s it. You haven’t taken anyone new in a while, and old ones are leaving… Aren’t you getting bored?”
“I’m not bored with any of you.” The statement was simple, but meaningful; Sehun smiled softly at that.
“Well, but you seem to have a lot of free time now, and when you have too much free time, you do stupid things.”
Baekhyun scoffed.
“I mean it.” Sehun looked at him directly now. “You’re getting lonely. You need stimuli.”
To the last statement, there was no answer. The men sat there in silence for some more time, until the glasses became empty, until there was nothing more to sit there for, and until the night became so deep that it threatened with becoming the morning soon.
* * *
“Will this be all?”
“Yes, thank you.”
You gave the customer in front of you a bill with the price of his purchase – an average one, just some grocery; not like you paid it much attention – and took the calculated amount of cash from his hand. No change, no problem. You shared a warm smile, as warm as you could muster up at the late hour. It was one of the days when your natural shyness and introversion didn’t get in the way, and you could enjoy the few polite words exchanged with the people passing the store.
“Thank you, goodnight.”
Right as the door closed behind the man, your phone suddenly called and you reached under the counter, where some of your personal things rested during your shift, ready to reach for if necessary.
“Hello?”
“Hello. Am I disturbing you?” Your heart skipped at the familiarity of the voice. However, this time it wasn’t due to anxiety – you started to look forward to his response, and it was like butterflies in your stomach when you received one. You probably should save his number, though.
“Um… Not much” you replied honestly.
“Is your Friday afternoon free?”
“This Friday?” It was Wednesday, you consulted your imaginary calendar.
“Yeah” he replied shortly.
“Um… Sorry, I have the night shift. Saturday?” You counteroffered right away, not wanting him to take your response as a rejection.
“Won’t you be tired?”
“I’ll sleep it off before the afternoon. I’m used to it.” Your free hand fiddled nervously with the strap of your ID badge.
“Hm, okay then. Can we meet at The Queen of Spades? I live nearby too.”
“Where are we going?”
“To my place.” He hesitated for just a second or two. “Are you okay with that?”
The statement made all the cogs in your head move. You hesitated now, too.
Was it what you thought it was? You couldn’t be sure – it could have been just another one of the ordinary meetings, one to get to know each other better, one to pass free time. It was still soon – you didn’t expect it to happen so fast. Even in the span of the time that has passed ever since seeing him for the first time, till reaching this particular point – it still felt so fast, as though after all these years of hopeless yearning you weren’t ready for jumping into the deep end and bringing your dreams to life.
Yet, your instincts were at ease, no red flags, no suspicions. You didn’t feel a need to refuse, or to wait. What would happen if you did – wouldn’t you end up regretting it? Would you be stuck in your safe-zone forever? Although you felt naïve in your trust, you still trusted your instincts foremost.
So the answer came naturally.
“Yes. Yes, I’m in.”
* * *
Please, reblog if you enjoyed, it'll help me a bunch
Author's note: How's everyone doing~? I hope you're enjoying yourselves. Please let me know your thoughts on adding that little criminal thread! And, while waiting for the next update, consider checking out my masterlist~
Next (Chapter 3.)
84 notes · View notes
keigosbirdie · 4 years
Note
I love your way of writing and despite language barriers (German potato) I can read your texts well and fluently! ♡ you can tell that you put a lot of work into it and I don't have to start with your drawings they are awesome !! ♡♡ my first fail question was answered nicely by you ♡ I wanted to ask if you can give my day a good start with a few lovely words from Hawks in your style so that I can go to work motivated ♡
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Thank you so much !! Ahh! Im so happy you could read my story despite the language barrior! I try to write bluntly, so to speak- to the point, you know? Im glad my style of writing works for you!! A few words from hawks? Well, since you sent me such a sweet message I wrote something for you! Its short and I wrote it on my breaks at work so i hope its okay ;u;
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Morning Coffee
The morning was cold. Flecks of snow fell lazily from the blackened sky above you, so you pulled your scarf up over your nose to keep warm. You were alone at the train station, just like every morning before. The world was engulfed in darkness beyond the reach of the buzzing lights above you. Used to, the dark of early morning felt ominous and frightening. Especially walking in it alone to the station, but it became a comfort when it became familiar. The rest of the world was excluded from your early morning train rides to work. It was the only time of day that truly belonged to you. When you thought of it that way, the blackness all around you felt more like a protective blanket from the world beyond it than something to be feared.
But it was still lonely.
You clasped your coffee cup tightly in your palms as you waited for the train. Well, it wasn't your coffee cup. Your favorite thermos was forgotten on the counter in the rush of the morning. Your only alternative was a paper cup filled with whatever elixir the gas station peddled you that morning. It helped warm you against the chill of winter, but it did little for your soul.
You clasped your coffee a little tighter and glanced up at the world above it's brim. It was so early in the morning in your rural town that you were the soul occupant of the train station. There was no casual chatter of strangers or the shuffling of other people living their lives separate from yours. There was only you and the faint buzz of the lights above you.
The loneliness was an excuse for your mind to wander to thoughts of those close to you. Close, but not close enough. Friends you only saw during friday outings. Your mother, who lived a few hours away. Your husband, who moved in with you just a week prior, but it hardly felt like it. He had little time for domestic bliss in the midst of his own busy troubles. It was fine, you were incredibly busy yourself, and just having him there more often was a comfort.
The memory of the night before warmed your core up better than your cup. He came home a little early, and you stayed up way past bed time to build a pillow fort, per your request. The rest of the night you laid together in the makeshift hovel. His familiar voice filled the tiny space with gentle, nostalgic words that set sparklers off in your chest.
He was still in bed when you awoke for work, which made leaving even more difficult. It took several minutes of mental preparation to climb out from beneath his warm plumage, and he chirped and rolled in his sleep at the loss of your warmth. You decided not to wake him, —sleep was a rare luxury for the overworked hero— so you left with a worldless kiss and a note on the fridge. It made standing alone at the station all the more bitter, though, knowing he was at home keeping the sheets warm.
Your chest quaked gently under the weight of your loneliness, but only for a moment before you straightened your back out to stand a little taller. It would be fine. You'd be home again after your shift, and you'd see him again when he eventually made it home after his.
You reached into your coat pocket and fingered the top of an aluminum can. It was also coffee, but his coffee. The too sweet, triple shot canned stuff he sipped on to get through the day. You'd buy one for him when you stopped by a gas station. And sometimes for yourself, simply because the shiny yellow can on your desk gifted you with thoughts of him through the day.
"It's quiet out here," a voice resonated from behind you. Right behind you.
"F-Fuck!" You jolted. The paper coffee cup that'd been comforting you was crushed in your startled fist. What little was left of the hot liquid gushed out and burned the knuckle of your thumb.
The redness on your hand was pale in comparison to the flush of your cheeks, however, when you realized who'd landed behind you. Hawks. The man you'd abandoned in bed. He was dressed for patrol in his hero get up. He lifted that yellow visor of his atop his head, the same one that sat on your bedside table at night. He looked down at you apologetically. His wings folded tight against his back as if to make himself appear smaller; less threatening.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you-"
"Oh, no, you're fine-" you blurted as you straightened yourself out and rubbed the ache of your hand against your thigh. "You just startled me, Jesus, why don't your wings make any sound when you come swooping in? At least give a gal a warning."
He offered the smallest smile.
"I wanted to catch you before I took off," he said, though his expression was still a bit solemn as he eyed the hand you'd burned. "You left your thermos on the counter."
He reached into his thick jacket and pulled the thing from his pocket. You blinked, and you suddenly didn't feel cold anymore. With a long, contented hum you dropped the crumpled paper cup into the can behind you, and then he placed your thermos into the cradle your hands made. The metal was hot. He must have made you a fresh cup.
The gesture shook you just a little. He'd been in your life since you were children—he grew up to be your husband, for God's sake—but you never stood beside him in a public place. He was too protective, and the thought of you being outed as his spouse brought on his anxieties. Yes, the eagle eyes of strangers always made him nervous when it came to you, but there wasn't another soul in sight that morning.
"You'd risk being seen with me just to bring me my coffee?" You pondered as you popped off the cap and breathed in the familiar, healing aroma of your favorite brew.
"And to get my goodbye, since you ran off without one. I was worried," he added. His eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't lose his playful grin when he tacked, "You butthole," onto the end of his sentence.
You snorted at his childish insult. It was so like him to peck at you gently. "You never get any sleep- I was trying to be nice! And you know when I leave for work, Birdbrain. I even left you a note on the fridge."
"Ah, I didn't see it," he said. His gloved hand scratched at the back of his head as he tried to hide his small tinge of embarrassment. He came to bring you coffee, yes, but he also came just to double extra check that you were safely on your way to work and not a corpse in a ditch somewhere. "Sorry."
He worried. A lot. It was one of those things he was trying to work on, but it didn't bother you as much as he thought it did. He lived a treacherous life. The secrecy around your relationship and the anxiety he harbored for your safety always made sense to you.
A small cloud expelled from your lips as you let out the smallest laugh. "Don't be. I'm glad you came. Waiting out here is the crummiest part of the day, usually. Company is nice, especially if its yours."
His face softened. His lips quirked up into the faintest of grins, and his narrow eyes crinkled gently at their dark corners. It was the same smile that made your heart flutter when you were a little girl. His face was rounder and a bit more pudgy, then. His eyes were dowey, his voice was high, and he'd yet to be ripped apart and put back together into someone else. That little boy faded more and more as years and hardships passed, but you still saw him every time Hawks wore his smile.
"It is pretty cold," he said, and a wing unfurled from behind him. It draped around you like a heavy coat, battling away the chill in the air. Your smile grew a little wider as you stepped into him.
You fingered the edge of the can in your pocket before pulling it free from the confines of your coat.
"Here. We can have a little coffee before my train gets here," you offered.
His head tilted at the offering, as if startled by it. But then he took it graciously from your hands. You huddled close together under the canopy of his wings to keep warm as you nursed the edges of your drinks. Soon your train would come, and he would fly off into the darkness that became so familiar to you. You'd be on the tram alone once again, but the warmth of your thermos would keep you good company the rest of the way to the commission.
"Thank you," you managed to say. You were huddled so close together you could feel the fur trim of his coat brush against your cheeks. Warm puffs of your intermingling breaths chased the cold away from your cheeks and the loneliness from your once tight chest.
"For the coffee?" He asked before taking a noisy sip from his own elixir. "I knew you'd be lost without it."
"For everything."
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lovelylunarwriting · 3 years
Text
Jaemin Soulmate!AU
Jaemin has a reputation as a “cool” kind of guy, which is why he wears bracelets to hide the words permanently etched on his left wrist
“Wait- if it’s not butter, then what is it?”
Jisung and Haechan are notorious for giving him shit for having a ‘weird’ soulmate, but Jaemin thinks it’s kind of funny, honestly
Like great question dude but,,, why are you asking me this
Jaemin’s apartment is around the corner from a little family-owned grocery store that he’s frequented since his high school days.
He’s very much a regular, to the point of the owner being like “Jaemin…. Please just work here. You already know where everything is”
To which Jaemin has to respectfully decline, because he wants to focus on his dancing and singing, and working too much would get in the way of practicing.
That, however, does not stop the old man from sending customers with questions to Jaemin whenever he comes in.
Because Jaemin is too polite to be like “uhh I don’t work here, good luck”, he always ends up helping them
But secretly, he doesn’t mind. He thinks that maybe one day, his soulmate will be the next one to ask him a question.
Even after repeated questions about “how much does this cost?”, “when do you guys open tomorrow?”, “when will the next shipment of bok choy be in?”, he still isn’t terribly bothered.
The other employees chastise the boss for sending customers to Jaemin, but the old man is always like “he knows this store better than you all do. That’s why he gets a discount higher than yours”
Employee discount: 15 percent off all merchandise
Na Jaemin discount: 20 percent off all merchandise
It’s an unspoken rule amongst employees that Na Jaemin gets a discount, but they are NEVER to mention it to him! He knows that business has been rough recently and wouldn’t accept the generosity, but the boss thinks Jaemin is too skinny and wants him to be able to afford to eat well.
Now lovely reader, this is where you come in. You recently got a job at this grocery store but you work in the back, so you have never seen the famous “Na Jaemin” that all your fellow employees chat about so frequently.
Coworker #1: “Ugh, he’s like SO dreamy”
Coworker #2: “I know right? He’ll have no trouble becoming an idol at this rate”
Meanwhile you’re like “lol what who? Also where is the printer for printing clearance labels”
You specifically applied for the back of house position because you did not want to talk to people.
It’s not that you’re antisocial by any means- honestly it’s the opposite. It’s just that you have the tendency to say whatever you’re thinking with absolutely no filter.
So in the past when more…. challenging… customers have talked down to you, you gave back the same energy without thinking.
Management was not happy,,, so you were like “mmmm maybe I should just keep to myself and everyone would be happier”
One day though, it seems that you’re shit out of luck.
Your work bestie calls you at 3 in the morning on your day off saying that her kid has a fever and she’s gotta stay home and take care of him.
You have no plans other than generally being a lazy lump at home, and she’s always had your back at work, so you’re like “girl don’t worry about it, I got your shift. I’ll make some chicken noodle soup for him too”
To which she’s like “bitch if I hadn’t found my soulmate already I would’ve snatched you up T-T”
You giggle and tell her to try and get some rest- both her and her kid.
And then sleep another blissful 4 hours before rolling in for the 8am shift.
When you get there, boss man is like “ayeee so you’re covering for her shift which is stocking shelves, are you gonna be okay doing that?”
You: “Ahaha yeah it’ll be fine~ just please don’t send customers to me oh my gosh”
Boss Man: “Don’t worry, I just saw Jaemin walk in. I’ll send them to him”
You: “... who is Jaemin”
Boss Man: “He’s my FAVORITE!! Remember that!”
You: “Oh, okay!! Yes sir!”
You’re like fifteen minutes into your shift and you’re already on edge because all you’ve done so far is dodge all the old ladies who are shopping this early.
No actual products have been put on the shelves yet, or at least not by your hands.
Settling down in the dairy section, you relax a bit and start putting cold products in the cold shelves fixed to the wall.
And of course- things are in the wrong place. Why would anyone put anything back where it belongs?
Picking up a product, you glance at the label out of sheer boredom more than anything.
“Wait- if it’s not butter, then what is it?”, you say to yourself.
Or so you think.
“Yeah, that is like the one question I don’t know how to answer”, you hear a masculine voice say from behind.
You spin around and look up into the man’s face.
And oh boy is that a nice looking face.
“Oh I’m sorry, I- WAIT”, you start, before you realize what he said.
Grabbing his left wrist, you push up the bracelets to reveal what you’d just said. Then you drop his hand out of sudden shyness, and because it’s not cool just to grab people.
“Do… do you mind if I look at your wrist as well?”, he asks quietly.
You roll up your sleeve and present him with your arm. He delicately wraps his fingers around your wrist and flips it over to read the words written”
He drops your wrist and sinks into a squat, flopping his arms over his head and looking at the ground.
“Oh my gosh why did I say something so lame…”
“Umm,,, to be fair,,, I did ask you about butter so by comparison yours isn’t that bad,,,,”, you try to comfort him, and he lifts his head up to meet your gaze.
“You mean that? It wasn’t like the lamest thing you’ve ever heard?”
“Oh I’ve heard much lamer things, don’t worry!”, you say with a cheery smile that contrasts your words entirely.
He stands up again and clasps your hands in his. With a look of determination he looks straight into your soul and asks:
“What time do you get off work?”
You tell him, but let him know that you’ll be busy after work making chicken noodle soup for your coworker and her son.
He’s like “oh you can cook?” and you’re like “lol no but I’m gonna die trying”
He writes his phone number on your arm (next to your soulmate tattoo) and is like “text me when you’re done with work and I’ll swing by and walk you home and maybe I can help you cook”
And quickly clarifies “ONLY IF YOU’RE COMFORTABLE WITH ME IN YOUR HOME, I UNDERSTAND IF BECAUSE WE JUST MET YOU-”
You’re like “dude,,,, it’s fine, we are literally destined to be together. Also if you try anything I’ll just beat you up so it’s chill”
Looking at his watch, he sprints makes a beeline for the checkout counter, going on about he’s gonna be so later and Haechan’s never gonna let it go if he’s late twice in a row, and something else but by that point he’s so far away from the dairy aisle you can only hear muffled sounds where words should be.
The next several hours could not go by ANY SLOWER.
Starting off today, you figured the day would go by quickly because you’d be preoccupied figuring out how to do something new, but now all you can think about is pretty soulmate boy.
And how he never mentioned his name, but to be fair, it was a rather quick exchange.
What feels like centuries later, your shift is coming to a close so you grab the ingredients you the internet tells you you need for the soup and head to your favorite cashier.
Somehow the front of the store is both quiet and abnormally loud for this time of night.
“Jaemin’s been waiting there for fifteen minutes? Do you think he’s waiting for someone?”
“Maybe he needs to talk to the boss? Usually he’d just ask one of us to grab him but he’s just standing outside”
“Ugh it’s so cold, should we tell him to come inside?”
You glance over to the crowd of coworkers towards the entrance and break out into a smile.
“Just keep ringing me up, I’ll be right back!”, you tell the cashier and fast walk past the small crowd.
Peeping your head out the door, you greet him.
“Are you cold? Come inside, I’m almost done”
“Oh okay, should I wait by the door though?”
“No, come with me. I wanna show you off~”, you instruct and he raises an eyebrow, but plays along.
Holding open the door for him, he scuffles his way in and shyly offers his hand.
Gladly, and with a pounding heart, you lock your fingers between his.
“Your hands are freezing, dude”
“Shhh it’s fine. I was trying to be cool, okay”, he jokes with you as you walk back to the register
Ringing up your items, the cashier is looking at you and him with raised eyebrows, and you’re just like “shut up jessica I’ll explain tomorrow”
The two of you walk back to your apartment and spend the rest of the night cooking and talking about everything and nothing.
The more you learn about Jaemin, the more confident you are that the universe got this one right.
Even when most things feel unclear, you know this person is someone you can always rely on.
(also when you bring your sick work bestie the soup, Jaemin insists on tagging along and she’s like “omg Y/N that’s JAEMIN” and you’re like “I KNOW” and he’s like “hi here’s some soup, also why do you know my name”
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littlemisspascal · 3 years
Text
Death and an Angel part 10
Death!Din x Cupid F!Reader
Summary:  Neither you nor Din are handling your capture well.
Rating: T
Word Count: 3,978
Warnings: captured reader, surprises, plot plot plot, violence, Din goes a bit dark side
Author Note: So sorry this is coming out late 😳 Between making YouTube videos and New Years everything got hectic, but here it is. I attempted writing from Din’s perspective this time so bear with me cuz he’s having a rough time😬 
Links to Part 1 and Part 9 and Part 11
Cross-posted on AO3.
Photo Inspiration:
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When you wake up, you’re lying facedown on a pallet in a dark and cold room. You groan, head pounding, and try to sit up, but your weak muscles protest, resulting in you rolling awkwardly onto your backside. Squinting up at the ceiling, you notice it is made of rock, as is the wall to the right of you.
Your head lolls to the left, granting you a lovely view of a red laser gate trapping you inside this strange cell. The faint glow it gives off produces barely enough light to reveal more rocky walls curving off to the side. You’re in a cave, you realize, processing everything at the rate of a snail’s pace, or some kind of underground tunnel.
At first you can’t remember how you ended up here, or what happened to you, but then everything hits you all at once.
“Finally,” a voice declares from beyond your cell. The purple twi’lek from earlier steps out of the shadows and leers at you from the other side of the laser gate. “I was beginning to think I misjudged the dosage.”
With monumental effort, you push yourself onto your knees, dizziness slamming into your skull with the brutal intensity of a hammer, and reach a hand out to summon your bow.
Nothing happens.
“What—why isn’t it—” The words are thick and clumsy, slurring together as if your tongue has forgotten how to form them individually. Closing your eyes to stop the room from spinning, you feel nothing but unbalanced and vulnerable. You try to speak again, taking a steadying breath. “What is wrong with me?”
“You’ve been collared. All the pets in the Moff’s collection wear one,” she answers, as casually as if she’s discussing the weather outside. “Keeps you from using your abilities and causing trouble.”
She has no reason to lie, but you still gasp when your trembling hand brushes against the metal band encircling your neck. Panicking, you pull on it without thinking, only for a responding jolt of electricity to shock your fingertips and fry every nerve ending in your body. You cry out at the pain, but the sound is drowned out by the twi’lek’s screech-like laughter.
“That never gets old,” she says, wiping an imaginary tear from her eye.
“Death,” you mutter hoarsely, closing your eyes again and breathing shallowly through your mouth. “Death is going to slaughter all of you.”
“Oh, pet, you just don’t get it, do you?“ Her voice is practically dripping with condescension as she coos at you, “The Moff wants you here because you’re precious to Death.”
Against your better judgement, you open your eyes to look at her, confused by the wide smile you see stretching across her face. At headquarters, Gideon and your superiors had seemed far more concerned about the fact you had a second soulmate rather than who it was you matched with. If Gideon is punishing you for being Din’s soulmate (a fate which you had no control over whatsoever), you can’t help thinking he must be insane or have a legitimate desire to have his body dismembered piece by bloody piece. There is no denying that Din will do anything he can to get you back. Even break the rules of the universe.
You freeze.
Kriff. The puzzle pieces begin fitting together and you loathe the hideous picture they form.
“You are Death’s weakness. And anyone with a weakness can be taken advantage of if the right strings are pulled,” the twi’lek says, confirming your fears. She then winks at you coyly. “Congratulations, pet, you’ve just become Moff Gideon’s favorite puppet.”
You barely refrain from shouting curses at her as she walks away, leaving you alone with your chaotic thoughts.
Lying back down on the pallet, you press your hands over your eyes, tuning out the coldness of your surroundings and seeking out the warmth of your soulmate bond. You call out Din’s name within your mind, a repetitive chant increasing in urgency as you pray against all odds he hears you. But as the silence continues and you start to feel a phantom sensation of pain emanating from your throat, as if you have actually scraped it raw by how loudly you call, your heart breaks as it accepts the bitter truth: he can’t hear you.
You touch the collar again, every internal instinct you have screaming it is to blame for the invisible wall blocking you from reaching out to Din. How long have you been collared? How much time has passed since you were drugged at headquarters? Regardless, you don’t have any doubt Din is losing his mind right now. And his temper.
A few tears leak from the corners of your eyes, but you do not sob or sniffle. Gideon and his minions will not have the satisfaction of hearing you crying. Din wouldn’t like it either, you think, remembering his reaction on the Razor Crest when he’d found you panicking. He had held your hand, offering you any support he could to end your sorrows. Even offering to kill for you.
It’s funny, though, because few people seem to realize the feeling is mutual. You would do anything in the galaxy to spare Din a second’s worth of pain. If Gideon is under the impression you’ll just silently let him use you in order to exploit Din to do his bidding, then he’s going to be thoroughly pissed to learn just how stubborn you can be. Taking away your Cupid abilities might have weakened you, but you’re not going to be a helpless kriffing damsel.
Although, you correct yourself ruefully as you lower your hands and look around your confines, you might currently be a little helpless. You take in the high ceiling above you, thinking you’ll be able to stand at full height once the effects of the drug wear off and still not be able to touch the top. It scares you to think how far your cell has been dug beneath the surface of whichever planet Gideon has imprisoned you on. The twi’lek had referenced he had a collection of others hidden away in these tunnels. How many have died here with no one up above being any the wiser?
Pushing the morbid thoughts aside, your gaze drifts along the walls, noting the varying shapes and sizes of the rocks. They are all different shades of brown except for one odd green one in the corner. You look at the laser gate, knowing it can’t be shut off unless you have access to the generator which severely limits your plans of escaping since—
Your thoughts screech to a halt as your eyes snap back to the corner.
A rock does not have a little green body clothed in brown wool or long pointed ears. Nor does it peer back at you with large, innocent eyes as it clutches a piece of dirty black fabric with tiny three-fingered hands. And it certainly doesn’t waddle up to you and coo curiously in your stunned face.
You rub at your eyes, half-convinced you have now begun hallucinating things.
Nope. That little green face is still there when you open them again. It’s official, your brain isn’t screwing with you.
Your cellmate is a kriffing baby.
~~
Decades ago Din was approached by a man who begged to be killed. He had been separated from his soulmate against his will and compared the pain he felt to the sensation of a thousand needles injecting acid straight into his bloodstream. However, Din had sensed the man’s lifetime was far from over and ignored his pleas.
Thinking about that incident now, Din has determined the man’s comparison to be a gross understatement. Being forcefully separated from his angel is as if an invisible force is holding him underwater, wishing him to drown. His brain is on the verge of exploding, torn between thoughts of bloodthirsty savagery and the overwhelming agony of not being able to breathe without her in his sight. Every hour they remain apart threatens to rob him of his sanity and transform his outward appearance from man to monster.
 Already he has experienced a lapse in control of his powers the moment he’d first felt their bond had been blocked. He’d been forced to teleport away from Kuiil’s farm, lest he risk reaping the Ugnaught’s soul before its destined time, and unleashed his wrath upon an uninhabitable Outer Rim planet. His powers had pierced its core in the same effortless manner a vibroblade cuts through flesh, killing its essence instantaneously. In a matter of minutes, the planet would be nothing more than scattered dust particles floating through the vastness of space, though he did not linger to witness the destruction.
Instead, he returned to his ship and sent a holographic message to his most trusted reapers, assigning them the critical task of searching the galaxy for one specific target: Valin Hess. While they hunted down the bastard, he dedicated his time to searching for his better half. He extended his powers to each individual planet and moon in every region, tendrils of darkness looking through homes and alleyways for even the faintest trace of her vibrant aura amongst trillions of souls.
Now, ten hours later, he is interrupted by the chime of an incoming call.
“Come to Trask,” Bo-Katan says bluntly, not one to waste crucial time with excess words. “I've got him ready for you.”
“Good,” Din says. His own voice sounds strange even to himself. As he reaches for his helmet, his reflection in its visor reveals his eyes have changed from brown to solid black, his true form beginning to break through the human facade he cloaks himself in. 
He had been warned in the past of the grievous consequences that will ripple across the galaxy should he ever lose control of his internal darkness. But if unleashing that force brings him even one step closer to reuniting with his angel?
He won’t even hesitate a heartbeat.
~~
You are quick to learn three important facts about your cellmate.
First and foremost, the baby adores attention. Within minutes of discovering him, he climbs into your lap and snuggles against your stomach, making a strange purring sound of happiness. Your heart squeezes painfully in your chest when you notice the tiny collar around his neck, identical to yours. Why would Gideon be keeping a child in his collection? Any potential answer that comes to mind makes you feel sick.
“You’re safe with me,” you tell him gently, stroking your fingertips over his wrinkly brow and the sparse amount of fuzzy hair on top of his head. He coos as if he understands you, ears perking up. “We’ll get through this together.”
Secondly, he is extremely possessive of his belongings. You learn this the hard way when you reach for the torn piece of black fabric he has gripped in his hands, intending to get a closer look at it because it doesn’t resemble a usual child’s blanket, but instead more so a torn bit of clothing—only for surprisingly sharp teeth to nip at your fingers.
You pull your hand away and hold it up, showing you mean no harm. “I’m sorry, bud. I should have asked permission first.”
Brown eyes stare back at you for a silent beat, painfully reminding you so much of Din you almost can’t bear to look at them, before the baby bobs his head with a low grunt. You chuckle at his cuteness. Although you hate the unfairness of the situation, you’re grateful for his presence as it stops you from worrying incessantly about your disconnected bond. As long as you wear the collar, you remind yourself, there isn’t anything you can do to reach Din. So you’ll just have to continue being patient and live with the uncomfortable hollow sensation until you can determine the best opportunity of freeing yourself.
And the baby now, too, you can’t help but silently add, looking down at him.
It is impossible for you within your cell to tell how much time passes as there are not any nearby clocks or windows providing a glimpse of the sky. As a Cupid, nourishment isn’t a necessity like it is for mortals, so you’re unsurprised no one has come by to offer you food or water. However, the same apparently can’t be said for the baby whose stomach growls unexpectedly, startling you both with its loudness.
He looks down at himself then at the laser gate. His ears twitch, as if he hears something, before he lets out a quiet whine. You open your mouth, wanting to console him, only for him to push himself out of your lap and waddle quicker than you anticipate towards the corner you initially spotted him in.
Thirdly, he is a master escape artist.
“What—” you start to ask, only for your jaw to drop when he squeezes himself through a small hole you failed to notice earlier, no bigger in diameter than a womp rat’s body, and disappears from view.
You stare at the corner, a million questions swirling inside your brain, each one focused on the baby. Where the kriff did he go? What is on the other side of the wall? Will he be okay?
The laser gate abruptly vanishes, plunging your cell into total darkness. You immediately press your back against the wall, blinking rapidly to try to adjust your vision, but you can’t even see your own hands in front of you. There is a distinct clicking sound of a button being pressed and then a glowing black blade lights up mere inches away from the side of your face, nearly singing your hair. You’re unable to stop yourself from crying out in terror, flinching backwards and hitting your head hard enough you see stars.
Over the pounding of your heartbeat and the eerie humming of the weapon next to your ear, you hear a familiar chuckle.
You freeze. Dank farrik.
“Believe it or not,” Gideon begins, looming ominously in the darkness. “I remember our first meeting when you awoke after your transformation. You weren’t special by any means, not one detail even remotely suggesting you would become such an invaluable asset to my plans. I’ve come to realize your unmemorable appearance was the universe’s attempt of concealing you from me. It might have worked, too, except the universe is a hopeless romantic, unable to help itself from matching soulmates. How else can it be explained why you were chosen out of all potential Cupids to monitor Death each month, thus increasing your affections for each other, if not for fate’s divine intervention?”
Gideon lifts the blade away from your personal space and holds it in front of him, outlining his features enough you’re able to see him peering down at you, expression blank and giving you no hints as to what is going on inside his head right now. “Your capture has driven Death into quite a frenzy. His influence can be felt in each region of space. Even his reapers have become involved.”
He pauses, as if he’s expecting a response from you, but you’re unable to look away from the laser sword in his grip. You wonder if all seraphs possess them, such as all Cupids wield bows, or if he had it specially crafted for his own pleasure. Regardless, the negative energy it radiates is strong enough that you feel as if dozens of spiders are crawling over every inch of your entire body.
“Your soulmate has no notion of my involvement, but even if it were revealed to him you are being kept here I thoroughly warded this location to hide myself from those intending me harm. Your presence will continue to remain invisible to his powers as long as he desires bloodshed. So I suggest you better make yourself comfortable because this cell shall be your home for the foreseeable future.”
Swallowing against your suddenly dry throat, you ask, “Do you honestly think keeping me hostage will grant you control over him?”
Gideon inclines his head. “I think you underestimate his willingness to guarantee your safety. He’ll commit any sin imaginable if it means not one hair harmed on your head.”
“Death won’t listen to a single word unless he has proof I’m okay,” you say, the beginnings of a risky plan forming in your head. “Which means you have to let me talk to him.”
“I’m not the fool you think I am,” he replies, shaking his head in a reproachful manner, as if you are no older than a child. But your hopes rise when you notice there is the smallest glimmer of intrigue in his eyes.
You position yourself on your knees, eyes wide and brimming with tears, clasping your hands together as you start to beg. “Please, sir, the separation is tearing me apart. I can’t handle the pain anymore. I must see him. I’ll convince Death to kill whoever in the galaxy you want. He’ll do it without question if I’m the one who asks.”
Gideon considers you wordlessly for a long moment. The hum of the weapon and your heavy, anxious breathing are the only audible sounds. And in that moment you pray harder than you’ve ever prayed in your entire lifetime.
Let this work. Please, please let this work.
You know the exact second he gives in to your begging because a smile pulls at the corners of his mouth, teeth bared almost predatorily.
“Very well then. Tomorrow I will make preparations for you to contact Death. Think carefully until then about what you will say in order to convince him to be agreeable with me. It would be a shame to use this ,” his sword hovers in front of your face once more, the tip nearly touching your chin, “to cut off your tongue should you fail or if you attempt to be clever and alert him of your whereabouts.”
Step one complete, you think to yourself after he has departed and the laser gate returns. Wiping away the lingering tears, you begin to plan step two.
Getting this kriffing collar off your neck.
~~
Valin Hess is every bit the smug bastard Din predicted him to be. Despite the binders securing his wrists to a pipe high above his head and his bleeding split lip, the high-ranking Cupid still has enough arrogance to smirk at Din when he arrives at the abandoned warehouse Bo-Katan chose as the setting for the interrogation.
“Tell me where she is,” Din demands through clenched teeth as he marches up to the pompous prick without sparing a glance towards the red-haired reaper silently leaning against the nearby wall. He knows Bo-Katan is smart enough not to intervene.
“Just who would you be referring to?” Hess blinks innocently back at him.
His nose crumples beneath the knuckles of Din’s fist, blood bursting from his nostrils and staining Din’s gloves crimson.
“I am not known for my patience,” Din says. “Your suffering will only worsen the longer you keep me from my soulmate. I know you are aware of where she’s being kept. So tell. Me. Now.”
Untamed fury burns hotly beneath his skin, threatening to incinerate his mortal guise and his armor as if both were made of paper. It takes all of Din’s self-control not to give into the wicked desire to break each one of the Cupid’s bones, to peel off his skin layer by layer, to twist and carve and scar his body until there is not a single identifiable feature left.
“I haven’t the faintest notion nor care where she wound up.” Hess’ naturally gruff voice has changed to a nasally sounding one due to his broken nose. If the response hadn’t further stirred Din’s annoyance, he might have smirked beneath his helmet instead of snarled. “As soon as that twi’lek dragged her unconscious body out of headquarters, she became a nonentity to me.”
Din places his gloved hands over the other immortal’s shoulders, resting them there long enough Hess starts to twitch, unable to hide his increasing panic, and then Din squeezes until both clavicles shatter at the same time with a resounding crack . Hess tosses his head back, howling like a wounded animal, but Din is not yet finished.
He slams his fists against Hess’ torso, growling loud enough to be heard over the merciless snapping of each individual rib, “Give me a name.”
When the only answer he receives is agonized screaming, Din decides another approach is necessary to produce the desired results. He rips his gloves off, this time unable to resist smirking when Hess immediately starts to choke on his tongue and blood as he shakes his head emphatically, eyes blown wide with fear.
Din’s fingers reach out towards the Cupid’s temples, the veins in his hands ominously black in color.
“Xi’an!” Hess shouts, blood spraying from his mouth and painting Din’s visor. He doesn’t even notice, already planning the hunt for his next target. “The twi’lek that took your whore is named Xi’an!”
Din stills. “My... whore?”
Every lightbulb within the warehouse shatters, glass and sparks raining down upon them and the concrete floor. Hess starts babbling, a litany of apologetic words, but Din is beyond reasoning. Something sinister and feral has awakened within him, intertwining itself with his powers and enhancing their strength beyond what he ever imagined possible.
Din has reaped countless souls over the span of his existence. He has mastered the precise method of coaxing a soul out of a corpse, persuading them gently with his powers. Once the essence is held within his grip, the universe judges it, deciding either eternal damnation or a glorious afterlife. Most people tend to think Din is who chooses their fates, one of the many reasons why they fear him, but he has never been powerful enough to personally influence anyone’s destiny.
Until now.
He lowers one hand to hover over the center of Hess’ sternum, sensing the soul living deep within. It is a little battered from Din’s assault, but otherwise it resembles every other soul he’s ever reaped: a glowing, fidgety, amorphous bundle of energy.
Usually, he’d patiently guide the soul towards the corpse’s esophagus. But Hess is undeserving of such kindness. Din’s powers sink into the essence like sharpened claws, yanking it into Hess’ throat. The soul puts up a valiant fight, recognizing its host is still alive and thus should not be prematurely abandoned. But Din will not yield to its struggles, his powers manifesting dark tendrils to wrap around it in an unbreakable hold.
“You’re killing him!” Din hears someone call out over the harsh choking sounds Hess is making. Their voice is familiar and feminine sounding. “It’s not his time, you have to stop!”
Stop? No. He can’t. Not now when he’s on the verge of fulfilling the oath he’d sworn to his angel.
With one forceful twist of his wrist, the soul is helplessly torn from Hess’ bloodstained mouth and ensnared by Din’s awaiting hand. Without the essence of life, the light fades from the Cupid’s eyes and his broken body hangs limply from the binders.
The afterlife was never going to be an option as the soul’s final destination. However, Din has decided damnation is also too kind a place for vermin like Hess. There must be a third fate, he thinks.
Din squeezes his fist tighter and tighter, generating a cacophony of anguished shrieks from the soul. Ignoring the near-deafening cries, he gradually increases the pressure until at last it lets out one final high-pitched wail before disintegrating into dust that forms an unsuspecting pile on the floor when he uncurls his fingers.
A sharp gasp has Din turning, forgetting he has a witness present, and he finds Bo-Katan staring back at him with blatant horror. “What have you done?”
“What was necessary.”
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teamxdark · 3 years
Text
They say the pen is mightier than the sword...
My Dearest Arthur,
Today, as I was heading back to the castle, Galahad stopped me. He pointed out a bird, small and blue like the sky, drinking from a puddle on the ground. We both stopped, watching it as it drank its fill, stretched its wings, and flew away.
It made me think of you.
My love, you try so hard to be the best leader for us all. You do it without complaint, struggling with the problems of a populace, making the decisions that a lesser being wouldn't dare consider. I know how much this burden crushes you, but all the same, I cannot for the life of me think of anyone more worthy than you to hold such power.
I have heard the complaints of those who disagree with your choices. They throw about opinions without care for consequences. They know nothing of the thought you put into every decision you make, and every time I hear some scoundrel run their mouth about how they would do better than you, I feel the urge to silence them, with my words or my blade, I care not which.
The things you do to me, my love...
Yes, you are the most worthy king, of that, I am certain, but you are also the most deserving of the freedom you crave. I see it, Arthur. I see the way you stare out the window, into the sky, beyond the clouds, with such profound longing that I know and understand all too well. It is enough to make a man weep.
...I have wept, I must admit. For you, and over you. If I could grant you your freedom, I would do so in a heartbeat, even if it meant that you would be gone, leaving like that bird, flying away without a backwards glance and never looking back. My grief at your absence would only be assuaged by the knowledge that you are finally unburdened. That you are happy.
Sometimes, I like to imagine that you take me with you. I imagine your hand in mine, and your smile reaching your eyes, the portrait of joy that should never have left your face, and I follow you, just as I have vowed, to the ends of the earth and into the world beyond this life.
I know it is selfish. I know it is impossible. You, Arthur, are the most selfless man I know. I have seen you grow over many years, becoming more and more responsible with time and experience. It is I who has become selfish. It is I who indulges these fantasies of taking you away to bask in your brilliance that I can never get enough of. But you could never betray your people. You could never say yes to a premature freedom. You will not be king forever, and this we both know, and you are willing to wait for the end of your reign while I still imagine ripping you from this life without a care for those that remain behind.
My desires are inconsiderate, not just to you, but to everything you've worked for. To everyone who needs you. To those who need me, too.
I shall never be worthy of you, Arthur, but my heart shall never beat for anyone else in the way it does for you.
Forever yours,
Lancelot
...
Darling Arthur,
Do you remember when we were young? Do you remember when we were but boys, training until we were collapsed on the ground, day after day?
Do you remember the first time you called me 'Lance'?
I hated it back then. I warned you to never call me anything but 'Lancelot' again, for it was my name. It was the name my mother had given me, my mother who saved me and chose me before I even knew how to walk. My name was my link to her, an important part of my identity and my proof of being wanted.
I was, truly, a stupid child.
Now, I treasure the name you gave to me. I do not allow anyone else to use it. 'Lance' is the name you bestowed upon me, a name to signify our own link, our bond... one so close that it makes me dizzy with happiness when I remember just how much we mean to each other. I now hold that name close to my heart, next to my mother's 'Lancelot' and my son's 'Father'.
It pains me that I do not have such a name to give you, my love, save for the endearments in these letters that I shall never send. Yet I never miss how blissful you look when I call you by your given name. You appear unhappy by 'Your Majesty'. You appear troubled by 'my liege'. You appear vexed by 'Sire'.
And so, when I am able, I call you by your name. I call you my friend, so that you know that I love you and that you mean the world to me. You always have, even before my feelings shifted into what they are now.
I see you smile and it is as if I have been struck by lightning. I hear you laugh and I fear I might swoon. If I do even one thing to make you happy, I feel as though I am walking on air, and I wish to do it again, and again, and again, over and over, endless until you never know pain again.
Arthur, the way I feel for you consumes me, like a fire that will never go out. My feelings scorch me, leaving burns and scars that will never fully go away, hidden on the inside where you will never see them. You will never truly know just how deeply this arrow from Cupid's bow has pierced me... I dare say he's emptied his quiver on me, for the mere thought of life without you, without your smile, your warmth, your brilliance, your bravery, your understanding, without you and everything that you are...
I don't dare tell you about these newer feelings of mine. I know you, and I know you will not treat me any different if my particular type of love for you does not match that of yours for me, but my head is clouded by fear. I cannot stop imagining that you shall become uncomfortable in my presence, that you will hold me away at arm's length, that you will look for someone else to court in an attempt to help me move on... All the possibilities are so painful, Arthur. I would rather nothing changed, even though I know my fear is irrational. I should believe in our bond, trust in our friendship, rely on the knowledge that you would never push me away...
I am a coward, my love. To be called the Ultimate Knight feels like a joke, for I am so afraid that I cannot listen to the logic in my own head. My strength of body means nothing if my strength of mind is as fragile as glass.
Yet, even as I long for something different in my relationship with you, I cannot say that I am unhappy with what I do have with you. Perhaps this, too, is why I will not speak these words nor send these letters, for what I already have with you, such a close, personal friendship, is more than I can ask for.
You have always been enough for me, Arthur.
Eternally yours,
Lancelot
...
Glorious Arthur,
I must apologize. I must, for I fear my mind is spinning out of my own control.
Every day I think of you. Every morning when I wake up, every night as I go to sleep, in every spare moment of my life, you are in my waking thoughts.
You haunt my dreams, too. At all moments, it seems, my mind conspires against me. All I want is to be happy with what I have with you, but it appears my desires are only growing, not fading, with time, and they eat me alive with every passing day.
I imagine your forehead against mine, with your hands on my waist. You lift your head, kissing me once on each eyelid, and I feel weaker than I ever have in my life.
I imagine your hands, removing my armor so that they may rest upon me, touching my back, my shoulders, my chest, all areas that I keep guarded under steel and promises. You disarm me, and I allow it. My foolish heart wishes to be vulnerable before you, for I know I will always be able to trust you with myself.
I imagine the lightest touches on my arms, spreading like trails of fire as your fingers slide along my person, and I let myself be consumed.
I imagine your lips pressing to mine, and I lose the ability to breathe.
I imagine your eyes, looking into mine, glowing with care and love and happiness, and I drown without a second thought.
Sometimes I dream of things I dare not write down here, my sweet, for it makes my face burn and my heart race and all I want to do is apologize for thinking of you in such a way. It feels terrible, as though I am taking advantage of you in my thoughts, and I fear that one day you will discover the fantasies of my mind and feel discomfort or disgusted by me.
If I ever lost you, Arthur, I know my world would shatter, and I would never become whole again.
Apologetically yours,
Lancelot
...
Arthur,
I can't stand it. Today, I cannot stand it at all.
I feel desperate, like a caged animal. I feel my soul clawing at my body from within, needing to come out and indulge. My composure is in shambles, my mind is in disarray, and though you are not at fault, it is all because of you.
Arthur, I burn for you. My heart screams and cries out and it's painful. Every inch of me aches for the smallest touch, I long for the basest of acknowledgement from you, a look, a word, a smile, Chaos, anything! Just the thought of you giving me your attention sends me into a fit, and I know that even the brush of your arm against mine as you pass me in the corridor would be enough to bring me to ecstasy!
My head is pounding, my ears playing and replaying the sound of my name coming from your lips, and I crave it. I crave you, my love, and it has never been so powerful or so consuming before. I don't know what is wrong with me. I don't know why today is the day that I might go mad. I am afraid, Arthur. I am afraid that my need for you is pushing me to the brink of madness and that I will not be able to stop myself from jumping down into it.
Arthur, the love of my life, how can I even begin to fully describe this? I've written so much and yet it is only a crumb of what is flaring inside me. I think of you and I burn up. You are not an inferno, for that is a small candle compared to the one that burns inside me. You are nothing less than the sun in the sky, approaching me to incinerate me in an instant, but even that feels like a pale comparison today.
Arthur, I am deeply sorry, but I fear writing this is only making things worse. I must stop before I
...
My love,
My upcoming mission to Acorn Kingdom is fast approaching. Soon it will be time for me to depart. I hope that, when that day comes, you are not too busy to see me off.
I will miss you terribly while I am gone, but I take peace in knowing that I am doing this for Avalon, and for you. To make this world a better place, and for you to have one less thing to worry about.
It's pathetic, is it not? As a knight, I should be focusing on the best for my kingdom, as I vowed to when you first let Caliburn descend upon my shoulders and gave to me my title, and yet I know the truth.
It's for you, Arthur. It's always been for you.
...
In his study, the king shoves away the stack of letters, his face burning as a chorus of emotion swells within him, unable to take the guilt at having read so many of Lancelot's secret letters. His hands tremble as he searches around his desk for something to write with.
...
Dear Lancelot,
My wonderful Lancelot,
To Lance,
My dearest
Lance,
Please come see me when you have a moment to yourself. Do not be afraid.
Yours,
Arthur
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fu-aki · 4 years
Text
So this is going to be my attempt to summarize the newest episodes of the ghost marriage event (episode 1 to 13) of twisted wonderland. Part 2
Again, spoiler alert since I’m about to write out everything that happened, and I apologize for my grammar in advance.
The event started with Epel, Ace, Riddle, and Rook’s marriage proposal
In your dorm -> suddenly a lot of ghosts showed up and said this would be the guest room for the princess -> you got kicked out by them -> you went and ask Crowley what is going on -> Crowley explained -> that was the ghost bride, her dream was to find a wonderful prince to marry, but she died before able to fulfill the dream, so now she wonders around twisted wonderland to find her groom, but that would be impossible -> Crowley “since her perfect prince needs to be over 180cm (5ft9) tall, a slim body without any unnecessary fat, clean and beautiful skin, charming smile, shinnying hair, and lips that make you want to kiss them.” -> Crowley “so there’s no way that anyone could fit that description, they just stay in ramshackle for a few days then leave.” -> suddenly Ortho showed up and said his brother is taken away by the ghosts -> Ortho showed you a footage from the security camera
Idia was on his way to buy manga -> the ghost princess showed up and said “I’ve finally found him… my prince!!!” -> the video cuts out -> Grim was surprised since Idia doesn’t feel like a prince at all -> Crowley “tall, slim, pale skin, and a smile… that can’t really be called charming, shinning… more like burning hairs, and his colored lips. If you think of it, he does fit the ghost’s type.” -> there was suddenly a lot of noises outside -> Ace and Deuce was there -> a bunch of ghosts showed up in cafeteria -> you all retreated to the sports field -> Riddle, Azul, and Kalim were also there -> they were studying but the ghost suddenly showed up -> Azul “Kalim, the correct term would be we were ‘teaching’ you right?” -> Riddle “just a little more and Kalim could finally understand the question…!” -> Vil, Rook, and Epel were in the classroom and the ghosts showed up and kicked them out -> Cater was also kicked out of lab room -> Leona was kicked out from hallway -> Ortho explained what happened to all of them -> everyone laughed -> Crowley “It’s no time to laugh! Do you know what it means to be married to a ghost? It means to be together forever with the dead. You will have your soul pulled out and goes to the other world!” -> Ortho “my… my big brother is going to be a ghost? I don’t want that to happen! Please, help my brother!” -> Crowley “of course, I’m sure when their friend is in trouble, all the gentle students here will help Shroud…”
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 -> everyone “nope/don’t wanna.” -> (player choice: “what a wonderful harmony” / “you guys only get along with each other in a time like this.”) -> Ortho “why? Everyone lends me your strength!” -> Vil “He normally avoids us as much as possible, and only bother us in a time like this. It’s a little too much.” -> Leona “it’s your own ‘brother’ problem right, just do something yourself.” -> Ortho decided to just do it himself -> he started computer simulation and decided to just use a magic beam to destroy the whole school -> Crowley stopped Ortho and explained to everyone that mass media will soon be on their ass if Shroud disappeared -> Ortho also threatened that if nobody helped, he is going to hack the TV station to remove the mosaic on news and put on “the student that abandoned their friend” instead -> finally everyone agreed to help -> Lilia suggest to ask Sam boy since he knows a lot about the ghost -> Sam said he heard about this from his friends on the other side -> Ortho “is there any item that we can use to solve this…” -> “IN STOCK NOW” -> the ring of extinction -> it can force the ghost to the other world if you put it on her left ring finger while saying “I swear to love you for as long as you are alive.” -> Lilia “so basically, I don’t care if you are dead.” -> but how can we put it on her? -> the only way to do it is to propose her -> Crowley told you to gather all the students he called -> it was Trey, Jack, Jade, Floyd, Leona, Vil, and Sebek -> the plan is to make them propose to the ghost princess -> Riddle “wait a second, I can’t just watch my vice dorm leader do this, I will go too.” -> Crowley “you can’t.” -> Riddle “eh?” ->Crowley “there’s a common trait between all 7 of them, which is... over 180cm in height!!!!!!” -> Riddle “are you saying… that I’m short….!?” ->  Floyd “it’s fine, goldfish is fine as you are now… wait? Where’s little goldfish? Is he gone?” -> Riddle “ha? What do you mean, floy…” -> Floyd “…ah, there you are, you are so tiny that I couldn’t see you down there.”
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Vil “why isn’t Malleus here? Isn’t he pretty tall?” -> Lilia “Malleus is a real prince, if he proposes there is a high chance to success, but even if it’s fake, there’s no way a future king of thorn valley will propose to a ghost, just the fact that he proposed would cause a national problem, so just let it slide and let Sebek do it instead.” -> Leona “hum, saying something so grand, we still don’t know if Malleus would be picked or not.” -> Sebek “Malleus sama is a very handsome man, of course, he will be chosen as the groom! You guys won’t even stand a chance!!!!!!!”  -> Vil and Leona are pretty mad after hearing that and are now determined to do this.
In cafeteria -> Idia is trying his best to scream for help and refuse to marry the princess -> but she won’t listen -> a ghost said 7 people are here to propose to her -> but she said she will refuse them all so Idia can just rest assure here -> Vil started to use his actor skill to act like a prince (change his pronoun from atashi to boku and his way of talking) -> Jack “Vil senpai… can you just lie to someone like that? I think love is supposed to be… more serious. I just, don’t like this con man act…!” -> Vil “too naïve, Jack kun.” -> Jack “Jack ‘kun’!?” -> Vil “this is a competition, to see who can charm the princess first.” -> Leona “disgusting, this is even worse than your normal self.” -> Vil “Leona kun… are you scared that you’ll lose to me?” -> Leona “… hey ghost! Bring the princess out!”
Everyone was brought to the princess -> princess complimented Idia and said how he is her perfect prince ->
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Leona and Vil “I’m definitely better!” -> Jade “those two, completely forgot their goals.” -> princess decided to try and see if they will be her perfect prince -> princess “let’s start with you, the one with a wild style but a cute ear.” -> Leona “Me?” -> she suddenly started singing -> Leona got really confused
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-> she slapped Leona -> princess “I can’t believe it…… To not sing a duet along with the princess!!!! You are not a prince at all!” -> Jack “Leona senpai… he was the only real prince among us though…” -> next is Vil, he passed the singing part perfectly, but then princess asked what is the name of his pet dog -> he doesn’t have one -> Vil got slapped too
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next one up is Jack -> she asked if he knows sword art and how big of a monster have he slain -> Jack “sword? I don’t need something like that, I will use my fist…” -> SLAP
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-> Sebek is next -> she asked if he knows how to play instruments -> Sebek started talking about Malleus nonstop -> SLAP
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-> Trey is next -> She suddenly said “we can’t meet ever again, farewell!” and runs away -> Trey is confused but decided to chase after her -> She “ah, even though I told you we can’t ever meet again! Please, do not confuse me even more” -> Trey “ok it seems like the right choice to chase after her, but what should I do next…” -> Jade “Trey san, you should sing here!” -> Trey “sing!? Now!?” -> Jade “Yes, to create a romantic mood, you have to sing a wonderful song to make her heart melt.” -> Trey “I’m not really good at singing though…! umm…” -> Trey singing “emm, you… your… your veil…. Looks just like a bleached towel… eyes, also, looks like grapes… so juicy~~” -> her “…” -> Trey “…” -> SLAP
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-> Jade “your comparison are a little too peasant, at least say something like your eyes are just like gem stones.” -> Trey “I’m just a high school student? I can’t come up anything like that in this situation!” -> Floyd next -> Floyd “this person just so annoying~~ can I squeeze her?” -> SLAP
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-> Jade’s turn -> He offered her flowers -> Jade “I picked out those flowers myself, I thought you would look great with them.” -> Floyd pointed out those are flowers with strong poison -> Jade “yes, if you just touch them with your barehand, your hand would broke, but it seems like it don’t work with ghosts. I’ve learned.” -> SLAP ->
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Trey “…hey, I just noticed something, to suddenly make someone lived in an all boy boarding school to propose to a princess… isn’t the difficulty a little too high?”
Everyone outside was laughing hard -> Azul, Cater, Deuce, and Lilia decided to help next -> SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP -> Azul talked too much which makes him unbelievable -> Cater treated everything too lightly -> Deuce got too nervous that he couldn’t talk -> Lilia -> Lilia was too cute that she doesn’t want him -> she complained that why is there no good man left in this world and brought Idia out -> Idia “none of you even had any use at all… everyone was slapped and rolling around like an insect… aren’t you supposed to be popular! You always hype around like an idiot, aren’t you embarrassed by this!?” -> everyone is pretty mad after hearing Idia say that -> but the princess was pretty happy so she decided to make the wedding tonight, midnight. -> Idia screamed for help -> Vil “Isn’t this great, someone picked introverted you as their partner.” -> Leona “yeah, now that I think of it you two are really fitting as a couple.” -> Idia “why--!?” -> Jack “of course, we will get mad after hearing what you said.” -> Idia “Azul!! We are friends of the board game club right?” -> Azul “to think that the hikikomori Idia would get married… I’m so touched I think I’m about to cry… congratulation. I will send you some wedding gift.”
Outside -> Ace was still laughing at what happened -> Crowley “it seems like the only thing we can do now is to find back up grooms!”
That was all for now, man this event is hilarious, especially the part where everyone got slapped, so sad that I couldn’t fit in everyone’s slapped face in here
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