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cyberneticlagomorph · 2 years

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A text box floats in front of your face, killing your immersion.

"The following test will choose which of Ursumbra Online's many classes is the best fit for you.

To do so we will be incorporating elements and scenarios from your subconscious.

If at any time you feel overwhelmed or like you cannot continue, we have given you a panic button.

Using it will stop the test immediately and place you back in the General's office.

This is the only piece of equipment you will be allowed during the exam.

Good luck!"

You're in the dark again.

Falling.

You hit the ground and roll across the smooth floor.

The only light here comes from the bright red panic button embedded in your chest, protected by its little plastic cage so that you can't press it accidentally.

As you stand, the world takes shape.

Sewn together by ghostly hands just like you were at the start of the game.

You don't know what you expect to see.

Another child's bedroom?

A toy store perhaps?

As the fabric walls take the shape of dirt tunnels ribbed with roots, you realize that you're in your own home.

Everything, down to the last detail, down to the fucking cracks in the walls has been recreated in fabric and craft supplies.

If you try hard enough, you can even smell your wife's perfume.

There's bits of your husband's fluff sticking to the furniture as you wander by.

Everything has been super-sized.

Tables and chairs tower over you.

Beds have become unscalable mountains.

Counters are gleaming plateaus.

The sense of scale is absolutely remarkable.

You don't get much time to appreciate it before a scream shatters the silence.

A scream you recognize.

Your feet are moving before you even realize, carrying you towards the source of the sound.

You round the corner to the kitchen and find Egg cowering on the ground.

Not a plush version.

Not a hologram.

Your Egg.

She even SMELLS like Egg when you get close enough, that sour milk and baby shampoo smell you've come to love.

Egg sets her eyes on you and screams again, scrambling back with all of her fur on end.

"G-go way!" She squeaks.

"Egg, shh shh, Egg it's me it's ok." You hold up your paws, "It's Bibi."

Egg shakes her head, fat tears roll down her cheek as she starts to tremble and sob.

Your hearts sink, and you stop in place, hands falling to your sides in defeat.

Something moves in the shadows behind you, Egg sees it and screams again.

You spin around and come face to face with your ex girlfriend.

…more like face to ankles, but that's not important right now.

What is important is the fox e-girl looming over you with a sick sadistic smile on her face.

Her name is Fiadh, but she always let you call her Fifi

She looks wrong.

Her arms hang down to the ground, knuckles dragging across the floor with each step.

Her legs are… bowed? The digitigrade element of her feet has been exaggerated so much that her calves are about the size of a regular human hand and her feet are stretched out to make up the rest of the length.

Watching Fifi move is awkward and uncomfortable.

Her tails are too long and too numerous, each ending in a drooling toothy mouth; a bristling hydra of fur and teeth that writhe in your direction, forked tongues lolling.

Empty black eyes gaze down at you from her sharp face. Pale Irish skin, sprinkled with freckles.

A mane of ginger hair flows down her back and curls around her neck like a ruff.

It spills down her chest, trailing off into a treasure trail that disappears into the thick orange fur covering her from the waist down.

She opens her mouth and words fall out.

It's not like speaking.

Her mouth is open, unmoving, curled into that perpetual grin.

Sound just pours out of the hole in her face in the most unnatural way imaginable.

Like a speaker made of meat.

"Jackie boy, long time no see bunny!" You watch her lean down down down until her face is level with yours, "How's the new kidney?"

She gives you a saucy wink like you two just shared some private joke.

She smells like wet subterranean places and old blood.

Back in meatspace, your Y incision scar burns.

You remember waking up in that tub full of ice with Fifi leaning over you just like this.

Your blood on her gloves.

Missing two ribs and a kidney.

She'd drugged you, and cut you open.

You remember the sensation of her fingers running tenderly along your stitches, her lips against your temples.

A cascade of nausea overtakes you only to be immediately replaced by rage.

White hot and blinding.

You take a step forward, fists balled at your sides.

Fifi just smiles, "I missed seeing you like this." Her hand comes up to caress your cheek, each finger capped with wicked talons painted her favorite shade of purple.

You smack her hand away, and she tilts her head like a confused animal, lips twisting into a cruel smirk, "Oho bunny has some fight in him now then, about fucking time you grew a spine."

You're so angry.

Every thought you have is violent.

It's hard to breathe, hard to sit still.

You want to sink your teeth into Fifi's fucking throat and watch her choke on her own blood.

Nice and slow.

It's better than she deserves.

Your voice sounds alien when you finally find the willpower to speak, "Yeah, about fucking time."

She chuckles, and each of her 8 tails giggle in their own voices, a chorus of Humiliation that makes your blood boil and your skin itch.

"Y'know, bunny, your other kidney was so shite I didn't even fucking get full price for it." Her hands come at you faster than you expected and pin you to the ground, arms spread wide, chest exposed. "you fucking owe me money dickhead… I think I should take both of them this time, and finally break even."

Her tails bend towards you, clenching scalpels and needles in their teeth.

Panic wells up inside you but you're too angry to be truly afraid right now.

You twist and kick and flail until your arm comes off again and you can wriggle free.

You run.

You run to Egg, and stand with your back to her.

Arms (...arm) spread wide, feet planted.

You look ridiculous, you feel ridiculous.

There's no way to defeat that thing like this but you'll die before you let anyone hurt Egg.

Real or simulated.

Fifi snorts and her tails mimic the sound, she tosses your disembodied limb behind her like litter and stands to her full height.

"Be a good bunny for me and stop struggling, mmkay? you wouldn't want to make this more difficult than it has to be." Fifi purrs as she drops to all fours and begins to prowl towards you.

Black ichor flows from her mouth like drool, spattering on the ground where it grows a dozen tiny hands that flail at nothing.

You grab Egg by the scruff, despite her protests, and drag her away as fast as you can before Fifi leaps.

Her teeth snap shut a hair from the tip of your tail.

Egg is heavy when you're this small, and hard to hold onto with one hand but you manage to balance her mostly on your hip and book it out of the kitchen with Fifi in hot pursuit.

The sound of Fifi's claws tearing up your floors, her breath against your neck, the tunnels of your Warren whipping by as you run.

It reminds you of your childhood.

Of the lab you grew up in.

Of failed escape attempts and dead friends.

You won't let Egg suffer the same fate.

Even as the dirt walls become polished metal and white paint, tiled floors and antiseptic scented AC.

The beep and whir of equipment you haven't heard since you were 8.

Keep running.

The tears in your eyes are making it hard to see but you don't have a free hand to wipe them with.

You take a corner too fast and hit the ground hard, managing to flip over so that Egg doesn't get the worst of it.

The room doesn't have a ceiling, just a black nothing that stretches up into eternity.

Eyes gaze down at you from that eternity, glowing so brightly that they illuminate the entire room in the specific kind of brightness only found in police interrogation rooms and operating rooms.

Everything here is polished surgical steel, except for the walls.

Those are mirrors, like the ones in fun houses.

Distorted and horrific, they reflect your face back at you in the most grotesque ways.

Fifi lumbers in, dressed in surgical scrubs and a mask painted to look like teeth.

"It's cute how you thought you would end up anywhere but here" She says, herding you towards the operating table. Egg is crouched behind you, trembling like a chihuahua.

"You are only ever the sum of your parts, bunny. Putting them together adds nothing, takes nothing. Change them, distort them, pour magic or more robotics in, you still are left like a living shambling amusement park. The only thing that does is ignite the curiosity to explore you for a while. That's the only fun thing about you. The only way the ship is the same before and after is if everything that makes it be "itself" sums up to a zero. And from where I look... you are awfully empty.

King? character? Alice? All these words, just hanging off you, trying to cover up your stink. I'm not like others, Jack. I'm not just glancing off, ignoring the blood you spill, the tragedies you cause. I'm in love with those things too. I adore it, the ugly pieces. There's no need to fluff if up with heroic nonsense.

What were you made for? You are an accident, is what. Plagirism on top of plagiarism, big fucking words with huge bows and frills to look palatable. You are a chimera, can't stand on your own. If you aren't getting vivisected in flesh, then you are in mind, open to the metaphor pen like a scalpel. And I bet the blade hurts so much less. It's easier to write off being just a bunch of objects than it is being clunky tropes glued together.

I can make you forget all that. The more you cry out pitiful sounds, the less you can think about it. The deeper my hands reach, the closer you are to the platonic ideal of a storm of flesh and metal no better than a grinder halfway through a slab of meat... then, the closer you are to real. Really real. Really, really real.

Because real things don't have a story. They aren't under a spotlight. Unlike you, they aren't dying for the attention of the next line. I'll keep existing when the lights are all off. I'm so much more real than you. All I'm ever doing is rifling through a bunch of objects. When you close the book, there is no one there. At all."

That rage hasn't left you, it's still there simmering low in your belly like a bad meal threatening to escape.

The heat of it rises like bile until it's burning in your chest.

The second Fifi gets a little too close, you launch yourself at her full force and go for the eyes.

She howls and writhes, tearing you off and tossing you across the room where you bounce off a wall and land on a tray of surgical tools.

You grab a bone saw and rush Fifi again.

Her face is in Ruins, more of that black ichor leaking from the wounds in place of blood.

But you're seeing red, foam flecking your lips like a rabid animal as you swing the saw more like a bat than a sword.

Nobody has the time for finesse or proper stances right now.

You slice off fingers and tails, anything she's stupid enough to let come near you is quickly and cruelly severed.

But there is no catharsis in this.

Only violence.

Only survival fueled by anger and adrenaline you've been sitting on your entire life.

It's over in an instant.

Your ex is reduced to a pile of squirming cubes that melt into nothing and leave black stains on the steel floor.

You turn to look for Egg and find her ok, huddled under some nonsensical machine you don't recognize.

"You alright Egg?" You whisper, feeling the need to crouch even though you're both the same size.

"S'not over yet…" she whimpers.

You don't see the hands snaking their way out of your keyhole, but you feel them split your back open like a cicada shell.

#ic #action post #body horror #gore #dismemberment #abuse #assault #medical malpractice #medical horror #medical trauma #long post #ask to tag #no seriously please ask to tag

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

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Close, Suspiciously So

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary | Falcon gains an interest in to as to why the reader and Bucky are spending so much time together after missions.

Warnings | the reader enjoying annoying Zemo and vice versa, swearing, hints at previous smut, threats

Requested ✖️

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

Without much care for the expense, you dived upon Zemo’s couch, that was within his secret hideout, closing your eyes, and laying upon the comfortable furniture. The Baron simply scoffed at your behaviour, whereas, Bucky concealed his amusement, to Sam’s dismay.

Since the Falcon had called for your help, along with Bucky’s, the two of you had gotten close, always tailing each other on missions to ensure that the other did not get hurt, and there being no snide remarks emitting from the once winter soldier in your presence.

He was an utmost gentleman, and that was when Sam Wilson realised, the old man was trying to court you, as was done with more respect and less bluntness back in his war zone days. The man could see the adoration resonating in the eyes of the other, and he went to open his mouth, until Bucky turned abruptly towards the kitchen, Zemo trailing back over to Sam and you.

At his presence, you groaned, feeling his judgemental and high ranking eyes glaring predominantly at you, clearly wishing to sit on the space that you were occupying. Though, you made no movement to move, and instead, kicked your shoes off.

Sighing, Zemo rolled his irises around in the pools of his white, finally giving in to sharing thus another luxury with you and your darned companions. “There are bedrooms upstairs, you may take one y/n.”

At that, you smirked, moving upright to stand, making it clear that it had been your plan all along. “Thank you so much Helmet, is it to the left?” He nodded, wishing to get his hands rid of your presence, that was keen to trail away.

“She used to be a con artist before she joined the team, it’s clear she still carries some of the attributes.” Sam mumbled out into the air, watching as Zemo squinted honourably towards him.

“You tell me that as though I did not do my research before I became invested in stopping all superheroes, her included.” He simply sipped his tea, twiddling with the foil of a Turkish delight as he sat down, pleased that he now could.

“Was that an threat towards her to me?” It was no surprise, they all knew not to trust this man, he had done enough damage when he was free the last time, and now, it would be strange to suspect any different from him.

“No, simply a statement for now. I’d not have included her if your Labrador of a super soldier was in this room, but to my luck, James is not.” Another sip of his drink became audible in the air, as Sam turned around.

He was right, Bucky was no longer within the walls of the room, and his eyes began to flicker. They’d have seen him exit if he decided to leave, perhaps but he had been an assassins for a long time, so who knew, and there was no sign that the front door had been opened, no cold air was blowing inside.

But, he could have went upstairs, and gone to another bedroom. Who was he kidding, he’d be in the same room, it all made sense! And all along, he had been right, there had been something to suspect.

Though, the investigative part needed to know that he was right, and so, he, with the shadow of Zemo that he was defiant with not leaving behind, for he could run, the pair walked quietly up the steps.

Zemo pointed to the door whence they had reached the landing, and Sam, with a strained face, opened the door quickly, only for you and Bucky to jump away from each other.

Your hands fell reluctantly from Bucky’s shoulders, and he himself licked his lips, trying to rid the evidence of your lipstick from his mouth. But it was to no avail working, the pair of you had been caught out, and surely, the two of you would never hear the end of this.

“I knew it!” Sam bellowed, pleased that he had been right to have his suspicions all along. Bucky rolled his eyes at Sam, zipping up his fly that no one else but you, had realised had been undone. But the action drew attention to the feature, and it soon dawned on Sam that the pair of you must have just finished something before Sam had barged in. “Y’all are gross!”

“And you seem to be rather oblivious Samuel. It was clear that these two came up here to fuck, and I am surprised that you are only just discovering this now. Some would think you were asleep on jet, when the pair suddenly decided that they both needed to use the bathroom, or when I was beating up the dance floor in Madripoor, that you were incidentally left all by your lonesome as the two of them disappeared into the crowd.”

He took another sip of his tea that he had carried up here, and you crossed your arms, whilst Bucky scowled murderously towards the two men that had intervened where they shouldn’t have.

“The fact that you pay that close detail to us is weird.” You stated, your nostrils flaring as you stared at the Sokovian. “Do you not have anything better to do?” You retorted, causing Zemo to put his cup down on its adjoining plate that was held in his spare hand before he responded.

“Not really, no. Whilst you have taken me hostage, it is either watch the drama that is ongoing in your little group, or think about the mission ahead. And as much as I would like to kill Karli-“

“No.” Sam scolded him, frowning at the man, who only rolled his shoulders back before continuing, being strictly against taking a girls life, he allowed him to speak more, no matter how irritating the rest would be.”

“However, it has been clear to me from the very beginning what the two of you have been doing, and whilst this oaf has not accepted it, it was far too easy to put the pieces together. It’s like you never told him about that time that you used your con skills to make Sam get food whilst you were going against the accords, and Steve was occupied with bringing the team together, and you had some of your own fun in the front seat, where he had been sat.”

Sam’s eyes widened, and so did Bucky’s. “I’m going to kill you!” They both said simultaneously, Sam’s aimed at Bucky whilst Bucky’s words were prompted towards zemo.

“Seriously, you’re creepy dude!” You whisper shouted as you held Bucky back, Zemo smirking in reply.

“I hear things, and I’d say for a con woman, you speak far too much to your lover, and the walls here are only thin.” And with that, he picked his mug up once more, after having already spilt the tea.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #imagines #imagine #xreader #marvel x reader crack #marvel x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader #tfatws x reader #falcon and the winter soldier x reader #zemo x reader

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witching-by-the-willow · 3 years

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Bittersweet

It's bittersweet to think about the damage that we do

'Cause I was going down, but I was doing it with you

Yeah, everything we broke, and all the trouble that we made

But I say that I hate you with a smile on my face

- Favourite Crime, Olivia Rodrigo

Description: One sleepless night in Hell, Emilia decides to find the kitchen and seek solace in cooking, but instead finds herself in the company of her mortal enemy and maybe-something-more, Wrath.

(I just wanted to write about Princewitch making Hot Chocolate, but it somehow turned into this...)

Many thanks to @city-of-fae for giving me her time of day to beta-read and help me edit this fic. She was the first person I found who wrote for KOTW and her fics are beautiful and you all should check them out. In conclusion, she's amazing. 💕

Hope you all enjoy it! Feedback is always welcome! ❤️

Note: This was written before Kingdom of the Cursed came out, so it does not correspond with the revelations from that book.

Goddess above, have some mercy. Emilia cursed as she turned over in her bed for what she thought was the thousandth time. Sleep had started to seem like a luxury to her over the last few days. When she'd first arrived in Hell, the sheer exhaustion had been enough to have her drained every night. After those initial days, however, it had started becoming common for her to stay up staring at the ceiling or to grab a book off the bed table and get lost in its world.

Currently, she debated going to the library to pick up something new, but ultimately decided against it. Wrath often worked there at night, making a strategy to annihilate some enemy. Perhaps it was her. She wouldn't be surprised.

After a week of hostility from both their ends prior to her wedding with Pride, they had decided to strike a deal. She could do all she wished in his House, and would even have access to all forbidden text in its library, but would not attempt to spy on his nightly planning or practice any magic she learnt from the books on him. Of course, this was only as long as he was out of the list of Vittoria's possible murderers. He hadn't lied to her during their time in Palermo together, she knew that. She had spent many nights analysing every word he'd said in answer to her accusations. None of them pointed to him being the killer. For now.

After a few more minutes of mulling over those events, Emilia finallly got up from the bed. The Goddess of Leisure wasn't going to bless her tonight.

She looked around her room, looking for something to occupy her mind with. The chamber was a thing of beauty, with golden carvings on its black walls and tastefully selected furniture on the same theme. Wrath's theme. Stupid suave perfect demon. Shaking herself, she glanced at the ceiling: a painting of a war she didn't know anything about, though she often tried to count the soldiers on the nights she lay awake. That didn't seem appealing today.

Sighing, she flopped down onto the sofa, and heard a low rumble from her stomach. She hadn't visited the kitchens yet- had purposefully avoided them. Cooking reminded her of her family, and she wasn't sure she was prepared for the homesickness that would bring. Most nights, her books helped her ignore any hunger she felt, but she didn't have their aid tonight. Would going to the kitchen be such a bad idea? Maybe she could use a little reminder of home. It didn't take long to convince herself as she stood and walked out of her room.

Emilia knew she was lost the moment she approached a stairway she hadn't seen before. It was grander, forked much more than the others. Cursing every goddess she knew of, she paced in circles, weighing her options. She could try to find her way back or-

She felt a door open behind her. She whirled around and saw a shadowed figure standing in the dark of the doorway, dagger in hand. Emilia froze, a dozen spells leaping into her mind. But as she prepared to cast a body-freezing spell, the person lowered his weapon and stepped out.

"I didn't take you for someone who would murder people in their sleep, witch." It was too dark for her to see Wrath's expression, but she knew him well enough to sense a hint of amusement as he looked her down and up. For some reason, she relaxed under his gaze.

Emilia raised a brow. "And miss the shock in your eyes when I finally kill you? I wouldn't risk that."

"Still overestimating your assassination skills, I see."

She rolled her eyes at that. It seemed so long ago when she'd summoned him in that cave. Shared cannolis with him. That memory brought a faint smile to her lips, and when Emilia brought her eyes back to Wrath, he was watching her intently, dressed in his signature attire: black trousers and black shirt with golden embroidery. There wasn't ever a moment he didn't look tantalisingly gorgeous.

She burnt those thoughts and threw out the ash.

"Would you happen to know where the kitchen is, demon?" She ignored the questioning look he gave her at the shift in conversation. "Well?"

He nodded slowly and without another word, started walking in the direction she had come from. Frowning, Emilia followed him. They walked in silence for less than a minute before she poked his arm.

"Are you taking me to your killing chamber?" She was only half-joking.

Wrath gave her a flat look and continued walking. So much for small talk.

After a few more minutes, they reached one of the palace kitchens. It was dead silent and yet, entering it, she felt an odd sense of comfort. As Wrath put some lights on, she noticed the room was minimal in its design and utensils. She suspected Wrath had deliberately brought her to that kitchen. It was modest- by his standards- quiet and not flashy. Exactly what she was used to from her family restaurant. Stupid suave perfect demon.

Said demon was presently leaning against the counter and observing her while she checked out the untensils and ingredients. She ignored him. He'd leave soon anyway.

Chocolate. How long has it been since I last had chocolate? Nodding to herself, Emilia took out a pot, a whisk, a few spoons, cocoa powder, sugar, and after looking around for a bit, milk, chocolate and cream. Why does a House in Hell have all of this readily available? She didn't know and decided that she didn't particularly care. After what felt like ages, Emilia was back in her element, and she wasn't going to spend this one night of peace thinking about the logistics of shopping in Hell.

She turned to put her supplies on the counter and stopped short as she noticed Wrath in the same position as before, his golden eyes- with flecks of black- a little darker than usual. She narrowed her eyes and looked down at herself-

Nightgown. She was in a nightgown. A black, thin-strapped, low cut nightgown. In her eagerness to get to the kitchen, she had forgotten to put anything else on....But Wrath didn't need to know that, did he? So, she put her hands on her hips and raised her eyebrows at him. "Like what you see, Your Higheness?"

Wrath looked away instantly and Emilia couldn't help her smug smile. It wasn't everyday one managed to fluster a Prince of Hell.

"But really, are you just going to lurk there? You have done your escorting duties. You can leave now. It won't be taint on your record of flawless etiquette."

He met her eyes again and opened and shut his mouth once. Sweet Goddess, I haven't ever seen him struggle for words.

Wrath cleared his throat. "Let us say- hypothetically, of course- if I were curious to see whatever human food you were making, how likely is it that you'd try and poison me?"

Emilia smirked at him. "I suppose you don't find my food to be a pollutant for your body anymore." He gave her another flat look and she mirrored it with one of her own. "It's a hot drink called Hot Chocolate. One of my favourites."

A thought came to mind, and she continued. "And the idea that you've been to the human world and never had it is making me question your sanity. You're welcome to try, but you will have to make it yourself. Unless you're incapable of cooking, that is." He scowled at the challenge. She smiled innocently at him.

"Very well, then. Tell me how it's done. Just know that, if in the end, you feel bad about your best skill, you brought it upon yourself."

Emilia winked at him. "Overestimating your cooking skills, I see."

Wrath walked over to her, undoing the buttons at his cuffs and rolling the shirt up to his elbows as he did. Emilia stared, suddenly more aware of her skin. Hadn't she once read a female lead describing her lover's forearms in vivid detail? It seemed strange to her then, but now, she understood her. Wrath looked up and caught her mid-gawking. The beginnings of a smirk appeared at his lips, but before he could open his mouth to undoubtedly mock her, she grabbed the pot and thrust it into his hand.

"I believe you know how to start a fire. So, get to work. No magic allowed." He raised his hands and muttered something that sounded like Yes, Your Majesty, but didn't speak further.

A few minutes later, they had a flame and Emilia had a headache, trying to get Wrath to add a little bit of salt into the rest of the mixture.

"You just told me sugar makes things sweet and salt makes them savoury. Why would we add it when we want this drink to be sweet?" He had his arms crossed across his chest, a gesture she associated with his pig-headedness.

She groaned as she tried to explain it again. "Salt balances the sweetness and enhances the flavour. It's not that complicated."

She held out a palm to him as he started to counter. "Why do you add gold on top of your black?" He thought for a moment and finally looked convinced as he added the pinch of salt she'd made him pick out. Thank goddess.

"Quickly now." He glanced sideways at her. "Please." She added begrudgingly. Why had she decided to challenge him in the dead of night?

"Now use the whisk to stir in circles and mix until there are no lumps."

Emilia stepped back to observe him, and when he started turning the whisk with enough force to break the pot itself, she finally cracked.

She doubled over in laughter, and when Wrath turned to look at her with a wary expression, she lost it all over again.

"Here." She went closer to him once she had some semblance of composure back, and put a hand over his holding the whisk. He froze but didn't pull away, so she started guiding him through controlled, gentle turns of the whisk. She was vaguely aware that she was still in a nightgown, but it felt ludicrous to pay attention to that when she could instead focus on the heat of his chest against her back. She could feel him looking at her and twisted her head to meet his gaze over her shoulder. The blazing fire she thought she had seen when he looked at her back in Palermo was back, and she was dazed to realise that she had missed and craved it ever since. His eyes- such frustratingly beautiful eyes- shifted down to her lips and back in the span of a second. She had no doubt he could hear her erratic heartbeat. Some part of her mind was screaming that this was dangerous territory. She was Pride's queen, but was a part of House Wrath. The dynamic was scandalous enough already.

But would it really matter if this scandal got a little more fuel?

A loud crackle in the fire brought her out of her haze, and she jumped back. No, she was acting ridiculous. Wrath was the flame, and she was the splinter of wood it burnt while crackling.

"Emilia-"

"You should put the pot on the flame." Her voice was shaking. Much like my sanity.

Wrath hesitated for a moment, but then did as she asked. They worked in silence for a while, before she ultimately had to tell him to keep stirring every now and then.

Emilia felt lost. Everything in this world was so connived. And Wrath, he was as much a mystery to her now as he was that first day in the cave. But he was also her one familiarity here.

He was a flame, yes. But she was finding it harder each day to stay away from him.

Could she not come near enough to let him keep her warm, but not enough to burn?

She watched him, but his attention was devoted to the boiling mixture, a faint smile on his lips. She stared. He was smiling. Not smirking, not grimacing. Smiling. It brought one to her face too. The first real smile since she'd left her home.

She went closer again, this time stopping at a respectable distance. "Time for judgement." She gave him a half-mocking half-encouraging smile. She was glad he didn't bring up what had happened some minutes ago. Grabbing a spoon, she brought one spoonful of the cocoa to her mouth and almost melted from the nostalgia it brought.

It tasted so much like...love. Just like how Nonna and Vittoria always made it. She closed her eyes and relished in its taste. She wanted to savour it as long as she could.

"The verdict, Your Majesty?" She opened one eye and closed it again. Wrath was smirking. Of course he was.

"You're not Emilia di Carlo, but you did a halfway decent job." She opened her eyes and smirked at him.

He rolled his eyes. "Maybe you do belong with Pride, after all."

"The Sin Corridor didn't think so. Keep being an ass and you'll find out why."

"I'm guessing because it knew how truly irresistible you find me. Or have you forgotten your little... hallucination back there?" How could she? It was mortifying.

She pointed her spoon at him as if it were a knife. "Bring that up again, and I really will consider stabbing you in your sleep."

He chuckled. "You don't have to make excuses for coming into my chambers, cara mia."

Cara mia. My darling. She blushed all the way down to her neck. Damn him. But that didn't have quite as much effect, considering their location. So she just glared at him until he chuckled again and got the pot off their flame.

Emilia brought out two mugs, and poured the milk out equally. Almost. She gave herself a teacher's bonus. If Wrath noticed, he didn't comment.

They stood leaning back on the counter, staring at the opposite wall, with a cup of hot cocoa in their hands. If she didn't know the position she was in and the events that brought her there, she would think she had found peace. In reality, though, she had managed to find a spot in the precise opposite of Peace.

"What other treasures such as this one are you hiding in your grimoire?" Wrath didn't have a single drop of milk on or around his mouth, while she was certain she had a whole lining around hers. How did he manage to drink like that?

"If I was hiding something, you'd be the last person I'd tell. But am I right to understand that the mighty Prince Wrath, with all this luxury, considers chocolate milk a treasure? Is that all I need to bribe him to do my bidding?"

"I deal in bargains, witch. Not bribes." He paused, conflicted on whatever he was about to say. As he looked straight into her eyes, all traces of emotion were gone.

"How are you, Emilia?" She started on his use of her name. He made it sound like a hymn. It made her wish he'd say it more often, perhaps in other, more pleasant situations. She shook such thoughts out. He'd asked if she was okay. Why did he care? Did he care? She wasn't expecting this display of...was it concern she sensed? No, it must have been a trick of her imagination.

"I'm in Hell, demon. I would say that's enough of an answer as to how I am." He didn't budge. She muttered a useless prayer and sighed. "I'm just trying to survive. And find my sister's killer while trying to avoid getting killed myself. In the midst of all that, I haven't thought about anything else. But that's not a road I'm prepared to go down tonight. Let me be delusional for a few more hours."

He nodded. "I'll drink to that."

"To delusion." She raised her own mug.

A part of her wanted to laugh at how childish it was to do a toast with hot chocolate. But then again, that was one of the less unusual things she had been a part of. They sipped their drinks in silence.

"I do understand now where Gluttony is coming from." His tone was dry.

She blinked. "How dare you associate my hot cocoa with him? Take your words back. Now."

Wrath huffed out a laugh, and Emilia figured that if a night of delusion meant that she could have a second of pause from her world crumbling around her, she'd take it with open arms.

~~~

Author's note: Okay listen, it's been a while since I wrote anything, so whatever feedback you all have, please send it my way! Don't hesitate at all. I know this isn't as romantic as most of you probably wanted, but I'm just a little hesitant to write elements of romance, because frankly, I don't trust myself much with it and don't want it to be awkward.

And yes, I went through all of Olivia Rodrigo's lyrics to find one to use as the track for this fic. I have no regrets.

Anyway, there...I did it @ghostiewriter . You better act on your end of our bargain now. I'm waiting. 👀

Also, shoutout to @feysandfeels for telling me about the endearment "Cara Mia" which I've been told is Italian for "My Darling". This concept lives rent-free in my head.

@ssardothien @kingandfireheart @evolving-dreamer @bookologist @godscursedd @sirendeepity @gwynlaithlunel @tea-istic @polaroidsintheocean @dadopedirectioner @trowen @effervescent-bean @snickerdoodlechittybangbang @doesitmatteratalltoyou @deepdive-with-aurelius @wrathscannoli @lysandra-ghost-leopard + the 3 people I mentioned at different points above (Liss, Saarah and Luisa...I don't want to spam your notifs more than I have to, so tagging you once seems enough. 😂)

If anyone wants to be added to or removed from the tags, let me know!

#kingdom of the wicked #prince wrath #emilia di carlo #kingdom of the cursed #princewitch #kerri maniscalco #fanfiction #my fic #kotw #kotc #kotw fic #niki writes

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valdemart · 3 years

Text

Valdebreed Part 2

Us: *votes for courtier content*

Nyx Hydra: Yeah we’re not gonna actually do that lol

I tried to keep Valdemar as in character as possible but honestly? Fuck cannon. If Nyx Hydra isn’t going to feed us, I am! Come get y’all lunch!

NSFW ValdemarxReader Consentacles, way too much cum, dirty talking Valdemar, breeding kink, ruined furniture, pet names, after care probably a rushed intro but fuck it.

After pulling yourself together and freshening up in a very well-earned bath, you made your way back to your room where Valdemar waited.

The fire place had been lit. It was also the only light in the room. If it hadn’t been your own room, you might have bumped into something as you made your way over to where you could see Valdemar.

When you first moved in, there had been a chair in the library that you had fallen in love with. It was an oversized arm chair, big enough to curl up in, made of burgundy velvet. You sank into it like a spoiled house cat and read for hours at a time. Valdemar had found you napping in it at some point and shortly after you had found it had been moved to your room. That’s where they sat now. Naked.

Valdemar never disrobed. Ever. Honestly, you had wondered a few times if their clothing wasn’t part of their actual body. This wasn’t their ‘real’ form, after all. You wouldn’t have been totally shocked to learn that their coat was just their true form’s arm or something, molded to look like clothing. Apparently, you were wrong. All of their skin was the same olive hue as their face and hands, the only other skin of theirs you had really seen before. They were a rectangular shape, their waist only dipping in slightly beneath their ribcage before fulling out to their hips. Their ribs were almost all entirely visible, the shadows cast by the firelight highlighting each groove and protuberance. And sitting on those ribs were the tiniest handfuls of breast tissue, with such perfectly symmetrical shape and nipples that they very obviously weren’t ‘human’. You’d only ever known breasts to be perfect mirror images of each other on statues. You could follow their legs up to their lap, but then all you could make out was shadow.

They were breathtakingly and horrifyingly beautiful.

“I think I’m…overdressed,” you said, your voice so thick with anticipation that you had to pause to swallow before you could finish your sentence.

“For now. I thought this particular situation called for some vulnerability on my part. Disrobe, Little Mouse.”

You slid off your robe and let it pool at your feet, leaving you as bare as they were.

“Come to me.”

You were before them in an instant, desperate to be near them. On them. Filled with them.

“Sit.”

You straddled their lap slowly, knowing the extent of their strength, but still slightly put off by the sight of their ribs. Parts of your brain seemed to have mistaken them for human.

You shivered as your chest pressed against theirs and your nipples hardened against their cool skin. You noticed quietly that theirs were still unerect and soft against you. Their hands wrapped around you gently, their fingers somehow sliding perfectly into the spaces between your ribs where they connected to your spine. If they squeezed, they could probably collapse your whole chest cavity. You had seen them crush a femur in their fist like it had been made out of sugar.

“We’re you ready to begin the experiment, Mouseling?”

“Kiss me first?”

Their lips were cold and thin and they felt so good against your heated skin.

There was loud crackling noise, too loud to have been from the fireplace, followed by a grotesque, wet sound. It sounded like someone was butchering a chicken right in front of you and you would have fallen back to the floor in surprise if Valdemar hadn’t been holding you.

You only saw it for a second but, in the firelight, you saw a cleft on Valdemar’s sternum that started to split open further like the skin was being retracted. You yelped and Valdemar reached out to grab your chin and hold your head upright.

“Look at me, Mouseling. Look only at me.”

They released your chin but your eyes never left theirs. You watched the flames behind you flicker in their red eyes as something unimaginably horrible was happening right below you. The sound traveled downward until it stopped where their genitals would be. Then it was quiet again. You could feel the dark energy emanating from just a few inches below you, but your eyes never left Valdemar’s and you weren’t sure if it was from fear or servility.

“Such an obedient little thing,” Valdemar praised as they brushed your hair off your face. You were sweating despite the chill of their skin and your head was swimming. Their magic tended to do that to you. Asra’s magic and your own magic never made you sick, but Valdemar’s always did. You weren’t sure if it was because it came from a different source or because it was too strong for you. Asra said it was a much older, much darker magic, and that even he wasn’t completely sure he understood it. That had upset you at first, and you tried to argue with him that Valdemar wasn’t evil and you were sick of everyone’s constant comments about it, but he merely placed a finger to your lips to silence you and said ‘I said dark energy, not evil energy’. To Asra’s credit, he handled your relationship with the doctor better than most people had.

But what would he think about a baby?

“Allow me to show you just how satisfying that which you fear is.”

Several appendages the width of a finger started to caress your body, making you jerk away against them, but Valdemar held you steady and your eyes never left theirs. They stared at you, unblinking and smiling softly, as their little tendrils fondled your stomach and legs. They were wet and soft like small tongues, and they left trails of moisture wherever they lapped. While they were a little unnerving, the sensation was like nothing you had felt before. Especially when they found your breasts. They flicked against your nipples flatly before wrapping around them to tug lightly. Your clit pulsed desperately with each little caress and your wet hole clenched around nothing, leaving you feeling desperately empty.

You groaned softly and bucked forward, trying to guide even one of those tendrils to where you now needed it most.

“Impatient?” Valdemar asked, knowing damned well the answer to their own question. “We have the rest of eternity.”

Still, the tendrils descended then. Some softly pulled your lips apart, exposing you, while others tasted you. Two alternated flicks against your clitoris while three or maybe four slid into you at varying depths.

You keened and bucked into Valdemar’s lap, but you knew nothing you could do would change anything they had planned for you.

“Let’s get you nice and prepared to take my seed.”

It didn’t take long for the appendages to lubricate you, perhaps excessively so. Your body was wet now, and it caused you to shiver against the air.

The tendrils working your body withdrew, and you whined pitifully.

“Hush, Pet,” Valdemar said softly, though clearly unannoyed.

There was a singular tendril then, thicker than any of the last ones. A blunt head prodded you gently for a moment before sliding fully inside. Its girth stretched you, but whatever Valdemar had covered you in took away all resistance.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and, for a moment, you were worried they wouldn’t come back. This was so much more than anything Valdemar had ever given you. You doubted Valdemar had an established phallus, especially since they shapeshifted every other part of their physical form. This huge thing inside of you was made specifically because they wanted you helplessly full, pinned from the inside.

“I c-cant…Val…”

You weren’t asking for them to stop. No, this was delicious. You need this. But it was so, so much.

“You can. And you will.”

The phallus withdrew slowly to the tip before sliding back in just as slowly, all while Valdemar didn’t move a muscle. It was so typical of the demon, to wreck you without any indication of physical response on their end. They were going to fuck you and anyone watching would think they had nothing to do with it.

Valdmar’s…cock? For lack of a better comparison in your mind fucked you in the uniform way Valdemar did anything. While it lacked human variation, it was unrelenting in its endeavor to impregnant you.

“I can feel your little cunt milking me. Your body’s as desperate to get pregnant as you are.”

Your head dropped with a heavy moan and Valdemar shifted back, taking your full weight against them. If this dicking didn’t kill you, them talking like that certainly would. The heat inside of you was becoming unbearable. All you needed was a little bit more.

“Can you go faster?” You asked softly as you jerked your hips forward into their thrusting.

“Weren’t you just saying you couldn’t handle things as they were?”

You whined pitifully at their teasing.

“Please? Please? Please?”

With each beg you humped yourself harder. You could feel your climax mounting and all you wanted was to finish with Valdemar this deep inside of you. You weren’t above begging.

“Of course, Duckling. We need your orgasm to move my ejaculate to your womb.”

Their weird medical speak should have been embarrassing, but your walls fluttered around them.

One of their hands found the back of your head while the other wrapped around your waist. When Valdemar pushed back into you, it was a sharp, hard thrust and you cried out before you fell forward. You moaned loudly into the fabric of the chair and Valdemar held you against it.

“I have you.”

The tentacle started to piston in and out of you, the speed of the penetration through both of your fluids making the most unholy of sounds, like someone drowning in mud. Your body jiggled and shuddered against Valdemar as they remained perfectly still while they kept you caged to them.

“Val! Val-d-de-mah! Ah! Ah! Ah!”

It was right there. You could feel yourself about to snap. Just a little more. Oh, please just a little more. Oh please oh please oh please oh please

A few of the small tendrils from earlier reappeared to lap at your clit and you screamed into the chair. As you contracted around the still thrusting phallus, you could feel it erupt. The fluid coming out of it wasn’t hot or cold, but there was a ridiculous amount of it. It squirted inside of you before you felt it leak out around the two of you, quickly causing a puddle to form in Valdemar’s lap. Despite this, they were still moving in and out of you, fucking their cum back inside of you as it came out.

Too spent to try and wiggle away from the overstimulation, you whimpered for mercy.

“ ‘S too much. Val…”.

“I’m only trying to make sure you’re completely inseminated. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Despite their teasing, their tendril retracted out of you. You shuddered, both thankful for the break and grieving the loss of fullness.

“Val…That was crazy…”

“Science often is.”

It wasn’t hard for Valdemar to maneuver you onto your back in their lap, despite you being completely dead weight. Hooking one arm under your knees, they elevated your lower body and cradled you.

“You’re being too wasteful with my sperm, Little One. You need to be more grateful.”

Finally able to look at yourself, you saw that you were bathed almost completely in black. It started around your breasts where the tendrils had played with you and you grew darker the further down yourself you looked. Of course, Valdemar came black. You doubted anything viable in terms of offspring would actually come of this, but the closeness, the intimacy, that was what you had really needed. The brain melting orgasm hadn’t hurt either.

“I love you.”

Valdemar hummed in acknowledgement before softly running a finger down your stomach, through the gummy pitch they had covered you in, before tracing small circles around your womb.

Every time the fire flickered, the lighting on their face changed, making them look like they were morphing briefly. You couldn’t help but smile.

“We’re going to have such cute kids.”

#I wanted to spend more time on this but its been months and ill just never be happy with my work so *fart noise*#valdemar x apprentice #consentacles #quaestor valdemar #valdemar the arcana

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damn-stark · 3 years

Text

The trouble final pt.

A/N- it's over :( I’m sad that it is, but I’m so thankful for all of you that read it and stuck around to finish with me :)

Warning- ANGST, talks of loss and grief, ptsd, Violence, blood, light fluff

Pairing- Jesse x fem!reader

——

“Give me your arm again,” Ellie mutters after she had cleared the room that had once been filled with enemies part of the same group as those two me she, and you had taken out. “It’s—”

“It’s okay,” you cut her off and pull your arm away before she could grab it again. “It won’t change sizes, or color in the last ten minutes that you checked.”

After finding out that you had gotten bit by the infected that the man taunted you with, Ellie has been careful with you, she’s made sure that you wouldn’t strain yourself, she’s kept you from helping her fight the danger that lingered, as if you were some child.

And you understood why she kept insisting on trying to keep you from harm's way, she was being cautious, she was worried, but that isn’t going to change the outcome of your dooming fate.

“We could try cutting it off,” she insisted again, hoping that this time you’d change your mind.

You shake your head, “no, we don’t have the proper equipment.” You sit up and begin walking out of the broken down corner store. “I’d end up bleeding to death instead. Plus,” you sigh. “We don’t have time. Not if we want to reach Abby.”

Ellie follows behind you slowly, albeit somewhat lagging behind as she comes across good loot to collect. “We?” She quieres, “it’s we now?”

Your gaze drops to the ground, seeing the natural greenery that cracked through the sidewalk and began to take back its natural place. “I told you my reason already. No matter what’s happening, I’m sticking to it.” You feel chills all over your body and when your head lifts and your eyes flicker to her passing you, that’s where you see him again; Jesse. The bullet that shot through his face and took his life. His cold dead eyes were piercing into you, and his body was stuck in place, unable to even move but causing the same effect it always did.

Ellie noticed your wavered attention, followed your line of vision and saw nothing and knew what was happening. But perhaps that was because of the horror in your eyes. Regardless, she didn’t question it, she just walked towards you to break you from your stupor. “It’s not far anymore. We’re almost where the man told us. I see the round building.”

You pull your eyes from the now empty space where Jesse had been to glance back at Ellie and follow right behind her—for the most part it was silent, but as far as your mind, it was loud and booming with different racing thoughts and memories.

——

Ellie’s eyes follow your line of vision to the couple quietly talking amongst themselves in the far end of the room. And at first she didn’t think much of it. Actually she simply ignored it and just thought you might be spacing out, but just as she was going to look away the young girl in front of the tall guy with dark shaggy hair, caught her attention. Ellie did a double take and found herself captive by the girl's looks; her long dark hair styled in a ponytail, the light freckles on her face and her bright, charming smile.

She couldn’t keep herself from asking about her in complete starstricken awe. “Who’s that?”. Albeit her words didn’t register in your mind until she grabbed your shoulder and ripped you from your own awe. “Y/N?!”

You blink and look down at the drink in your hand, thinking she was referring to the guy and smiling softly as you answered. Even if a slow sizzling jealousy did begin to boil in the pit of your stomach because she asked. “That’s Jesse.”

Clueless to the fact that you told her the guy's name, Ellie nodded and slowly turned her head to pick up her drink from the table, unable to keep a smile from tugging on her lips. Her curiosity got the best of her before she could even think of taking a sip from her drink like she had planned to. “Is Jesse…dating someone?”

You glance at Jesse and answer her with bitterness in your tone. “Yeah, he's dating Dina. The girl he’s talking to.”

Ellie snaps her head and takes another look at the couple before looking at you with confusion. “Wait, Jesse is the boy? Or the girl?”

“The boy,” you tell her.

“Oh.” Ellie’s eyebrows furrow deeper and thinks that the name Dina suits the girl a lot better. It was actually a pretty name.

“Wait, why do you ask?” You probe as you shift around to look at her better. “Do you…” you pause and narrow your eyes. “…think Jesse is cute?”

“What?” Ellie scoffs with even more confusion. “No. No,” she shakes her head, “I thought the girl was named Jesse, since when I asked you for her name you said that.”

Oh. It makes sense now.

“Oh,” you breathe out and then smirk when you realize why she asked if Dina was dating anyone. “Do you think Dina is cute?” You sip on your straw and raise your eyebrows.

Ellie’s cheeks turn to a tint pink and she looks away from you to hide her flustered smile. “No. Just curious.” She turns her head and smirks when she looks at you. “Do you like Jesse?”

You sigh and look at your hands on the table. “Yeah, but well he’s dating Dina, so I can’t really tell him how I feel can I?” Your heart sinks to your stomach, but you try to ignore the gloomy feelings. “Regardless, he’s a good friend, so I’m better off not telling him anything at all.”

Ellie’s eyes wander to Dina for a brief moment and just like you, a heaviness sets over her heart because of the girl that she can’t try and pursue. You both were stuck looking from afar like a couple of love-struck idiots.

But maybe it was better off that way. Looking from afar.

Neither of you would get hurt that way. If only it was that easy to keep looking and not desire their love in return. Especially when you have to face them everyday of your life, around the same four walls that kept you secure from the rotting, walking corpses…and other humans.

Why couldn’t things be simpler?

When you steal a glance from Jesse that’s all you asked for. Which was such a funny thing to ask with the world as it was. It made you wonder if people back then asked the same thing?

How’s having clickers for simple?

Nonetheless that’s what you wanted right now. A simple life…or really simple feelings, platonic feelings for the guy you’ve known for too many years now. It would make those thoughts—dreams you had of an intended life with him nonexistent. It would make being around him feel like nothing.

Why couldn't life be so simple—why couldn’t your feelings be simple?

——

“Through here,” Ellie waves you over into a dimly lit hall that was crowded with a bunch of old broken furniture and worn down junk that covered wooden doors, leaving an open path towards a darker-lit corridor. Making this part of the invasion the simplest part of sneaking inside.

“Sneaking inside this building was much harder than actually getting in the property,” you snap in a sharp whisper as you turn off your flashlight and continue behind Ellie, seeing her peek over her shoulder to steal a quick glance as she remarks on your comment.

“Tell me about it.” She scoffs and stops in front of the only unblocked door after turning the corner. “Would’ve been much easier if you stuck behind like I asked.”

You narrow your gaze on her and stop to put your hand on your hip and retort. “You know I’m not a child. Maria doesn’t even treat me this way. I can take care of myself.”

“You’ve never been bit, that's why.” Ellie snaps, her back still facing you and her head turning to face the door after she caught what came out of her mouth.

When her words hit you too, you drop the sass and exhale deeply, letting a sorrow filled frown replace the curled lip. Instead of responding to her with something you know would weigh down on the already heavy subject, you just smoothly change it to the matters in front of her. “Are you going in first, or should I?”

Ellie rolls her shoulders back and straightens her posture to slowly push the door forward, and reveal another poorly lit, dirty room. This time however, whispers came from beyond the shadows of the room, making Ellie put her hand out, signaling you to wait as she carefully snuck inside with her revolver in hand.

Not like you listened albeit, because once she had taken a few steps inside you followed behind her with your hand around your weapon. However once you stepped inside the room your eyes instantly fell on the cell filled with people all poorly taken care of, people they called their prisoners and proved that letter you found about an escapee right. The sight shook you to your core and froze you just under the doorway, that hesitance causing you to miss the woman who jumped out from behind the door and attacked Ellie with a bat like some crazy person.

Of course, Ellie reacted quickly and managed to jerk back, grabbing a hold of the bat and shoving the woman to the wall by pressing the wooden weapon against her throat. But since Ellie was wounded, and weak from lack of food, the woman overpowered her, caught her off guard, and kicked her injured side to then push her to the floor when Ellie was hit with that throbbing and blinding pain.

The woman thought she was going to win, but she hadn’t seen you when she just abruptly attacked without a plan, leaving you with the perfect chance to sprint forward and grab the side of her head, completely startling her. She tried to rip your hands off, but you punctured your thumb into her eye beforehand, causing her to groan out in pain whilst you lifted your leg to kick her towards the cell where the prisoners got ahold of her instead.

“Ellie,” you instantly called out in worry, letting the people behind the cell overpower their captor and take her out with a hard squeeze to her throat with the same bat she used on Ellie— “Are you okay?” You offer her your hand to help her off the floor, and she takes it without an ounce of hesitance. The moment she stands up though, is when you see that more blood began to leak from her wound. She noticed your worried stare and just covered it with her hand, pulling your eyes up to meet her gaze for a lingering second before she looked at the prisoners. You follow her line of vision and watch the prisoners letting themselves out of the cell and quickly occupying their hands with different guns.

Before the prisoners leave Ellie leaves your side and steps towards them with an obvious question. “Where’s Abby?”

They all glance at each other and before any could answer, a woman points out what you thought you had well hidden. “She’s bit!”

A man beside the woman doesn’t fret to point his rifle at you, triggering Ellie instantly and causing her to point her gun at them as she spat out at the man in a venomous tone. “Don't point that gun at her!”

Seeing the gun in hand pointed at the man, those behind him point their weapon at the both of you and surround you with one single intention in mind. Yet before they could act on it, an older man comes in between all of you. “Hey, hey, hey! Abby tried to escape.”

Ellie’s aim on the man falters, and her glare shifts to the man who continues. “She’s down in the pillars.”

“The pillars?” Ellie presses for clarity.

“Head down to the beach,” the man motions out the door with his head. “You won’t miss it. She’s probably already dead.”

With nothing else to ask, or share, the prisoner, Ellie and you, slowly step away from each other and part your own ways; with the prisoners leaving out the door you just came out of, Ellie and you march out the double doors the man had pointed to. Yet the beach wasn’t outside these doors, it would be much easier if it was, but no, you were welcomed by a dark hall, that was purely lit by the moonlight that peeked through the broken windows on the wall. Still the menacing darkness didn’t scare you away, you both continued down the path that led to a broken pair of doors that led to a brighter room, one that smelled like rotten, and moist wood.

Besides that annoying smell, the old, green covered patio was easy to navigate through, even with its broken floors and disorganized room. But through the silence between your friend and you, the sound of gunshots, and shouting against the new threat that escaped from the cell easily and loudly echoed in your ears, even after you jumped a small ledge and walked between the palm trees that scattered when you finally reached the beach.

However, salt, nor water is what you smelled, instead the stench of blood, and putrid aroma of death tickled your nose, almost causing you to gag. You would have thrown up if it wasn’t for all the people you saw tied to actual pillars on the beach. Most were already dead—all were already dead, most were just left as skeletons.

It was such a horrifying sight, like straight out of a nightmare. You’ve heard of tortures like this from Tommy, from other older people in town who experienced similar situations but you never thought it was real. You could never believe it.

“Ellie,” you murmur in disbelief, your eyes unable to stop glancing at every body tied up to pillars when you pass by them in search of one woman. “We should just—”

“There.” Ellie blurted in what almost sounded like excitement. “She’s there.”

Ellie points to a figure up on a pillar, and that’s when you see her. Abby; She’s a lot skinnier now from the lack of food every person not part of the gang seemed to suffer through, her hair was cut close to her scalp, her clothes were torn and her muscles were almost completely gone, leaving nothing behind but slightly toned arms. She didn’t even look alive, but her raspy voice proved otherwise.

“Help me…please.”

It was shocking hearing her talk, but instead of feeling pity, sadness and an urgency to help her, knowing you could, all you felt was an unknown uncontrollable and blinding anger that invaded your mind and judgment. All the sorrow you felt was for the man she killed, the man you loved. She took him right as you both had gotten the chance to finally discover what it was like to love each other. That anger that you warned Ellie about, the rage and thirst for revenge that you’d seen burning in Tommy’s eyes, now overwhelmed you too. It completely fueled wild and violent, revenge filled thoughts that you once thought vile.

Now you shared what motivated Ellie to leave behind her life on her farm.

“It’s you…” Abby whispers hoarsely after she picks up her head and spots Ellie, leaving you to be almost invisible in her eyes. If it wasn’t because Ellie surprisingly let her down from the pillar you would’ve remained nothing but a shadow. Alas Abby saw your face behind Ellie’s when she managed to stand on her feet, she didn’t recognize you at first, but then you saw the flash in her eyes when the memory faded in.

Albeit she didn’t react any differently, instead Abby simply walked to that boy she had been with before; he looked skinnier now, just as weak as Abby. He’s someone you felt pity for, your fight wasn’t with him, but you still did nothing to help, you stood frozen behind Ellie, shocked that she tied down Abby instead of using her switchblade to finish her off. That state of disbelief only heightened when you both began to follow Abby towards boats.

You sought for answers with a simple look, but Ellie’s expression on her beaten face gave nothing but rage. You almost wanted to end the ache you felt in the fragments of your shattered heart, however right when you raised your trembling gun, there he was. Jesses ghost reappearing. He stopped you from acting on revenge, but fueled an adrenaline you couldn’t act on. Not with how Ellie was holding back after coming all this way. You couldn’t help but wonder out loud.

“Ellie, what are you doing? She's right there.” You come to a stop on the side of a small boat, meeting Ellie’s gaze. “Let’s do it. Let’s kill her.” Your eyes drift behind her shoulder to look at Abby, seeing her seem eager to get out of here with the boy without as much of a question of why you were both here. It’s as if she didn’t care. It pissed you off. It made you eager to just kill her yourself.

And it was due to that eagerness that blinded you that you didn’t see Ellie’s sudden switch with the sight of her blood on her hand. It wasn’t until you heard the water clash with her stride towards Abby. Her voice broke through your ears and made your eyes focus intently on her. “I can’t let you leave.”

You take a step back, intending to walk to her side for aid, but you stop when Abby responds with such nonchalance. “I’m not doing this.”

Those words trigger Ellie, causing her to take those last steps towards Abby to grab her shoulder and her hair to forcefully throw her to the water. Continuing then to kick her side and making Abby groan, but not fight back. She just stayed in the water and simply shook her head, “no. I’m not going to fight you.” Abby looks back at you and shakes her head. “Either of you.”

Again you stand frozen. Her words stung like cold ice against your skin, they just stomped on your already broken heart and broke it to finer pieces within your chest. How could she just decide that after what she did?

Then again….

…no…

Ellie killed Abby's friends. All of them. But it was for Joel….but….Abby was down, she pleaded for mercy even if she didn’t directly say it.

Why is your mind so confused? Why did this hunger for revenge suddenly begin to fade away? Just when it started?

What would’ve Jesse done?

Your eyes fall on your bite from that infected and then you glance at the vision of Jesse. His bloody face reminded you of what you wanted….of what Tommy wanted, even if it wasn’t for Jesse’s death. And you tried to force your anger to be as furious as moments ago.

“Yes, you will.” Ellie seethed, pulling your eyes back to her as she stormed towards Abby's boat and threatened his life with her blade against his throat. Not like he could even fight back, he was too weak to even open his eyes. It should’ve made you protest, but Abby beat you to it.

“He’s not a part of this.”

“You made him a part of this.” Ellie retorted angrily.

Abby stands up and says, “okay, okay,” to give Ellie what she wanted. A fight that would deem one winner, and it was obvious who. Even as Abby charged at Ellie and tackled her to the ground first, you knew in the back of your head Ellie would win.

Even still though, you watched their fight attentively. Maybe you should’ve helped, but this solely felt like Ellie’s fight now. Because again, you couldn’t find it in yourself to act on those feelings.

Nonetheless when your eyes fell on Abby's boat whilst Ellie swung her blade and fought her, Jesse’s haunting ghost made you think of taking what Abby loved the most. The kid—he was there, you could slip by them now that Ellie had forced Abby to the ground with a harsh jab on her shoulder. Abby wouldn't be able to stop you until it was too late, she’d only see his dead body just like how you saw Jesse when you ran out of the theater. She’d suffer the same way, she’d stay on the ground in shock and broken hearted, it would be good revenge to finally stop seeing Jesse’s dead body haunt you.

But you didn’t want to—your eyes return to Ellie and Abby fighting to watch neither of them get the upper hand. Ellie managed to stab her blade through Abby's shoulder when they were on the ground, but Abby reacted quickly and kicked Ellie off her, only continuing the fight, this time with no weapons, just their fists. It left the kid open.

Even if you didn’t want to, you walked past the boat and slowly walked towards the boy. You didn’t stop until you were beside it and overlooking the unconscious boy. And just like you had predicted Abby didn’t stop you, she couldn’t because she didn’t know you were here now, Ellie knocking her to the ground kept her distracted. This was your chance.

You lift your own knife and move your hand towards the boy's throat, the tip of your blade hovers inches over his skin; one more inch and the blade would puncture his skin and flesh, he'd be dead, Abby would have no one. She’d feel your heartbreak. Jesse would be avenged….

The knife in your hand begins to tremble, and hesitation pulls back your hand. Your heart aches every day, the nightmares never stop, continuing everyday felt like being stabbed multiple times all over your body, but it wouldn’t change anything, killing the boy wouldn't stop the vision of Jesse’s dead body from reappearing. Jesse would know that. He knew that when it came down to it he’d have to do bad things, but he was also merciful when he could. He wouldn’t do this, not to the kid. You can’t either. You can’t kill Abby either, it wasn’t right.

These couldn’t be your last moments either. Which is why instead of falling prey to revenge, the knife in your hold falls from your grip and your body crashes down into the water. However instead of crying, you find yourself being more worried over Ellie. You couldn’t lose her….even if she was going to lose you, you couldn’t fathom the thought of losing her now. You needed her in your last moments.

However when you look at her, she’s proving you right, she’s on top of Abby and keeping her underwater to keep her from breathing. She’s moments away from winning, from finally killing Joel’s killer and completing her revenge. The thought of stopping her popped in your head, but this was her fight, she needed to make her decision. Even as you saw Abby struggle to resurface to breathe in air, you couldn’t stop Ellie now.

You watched the rain in her eyes, watched tears and ocean water glisten on her face, cleaning the blood off her cheeks. You waited to be there for her when she was done. But the moment never came, Ellie let go of Abby, letting her resurface to gulp in a breath of fresh air whilst she fell down. She chose to let Abby go and the girl took that chance after she recuperated enough to move. You let her go too. She never paid any attention to you until she glanced at you once because you were beside her boat, but that was it, she left with no hesitation after.

Leaving Ellie panting, and crying as she stayed sitting in the water. You let her have time alone for a little, but it was through the silence after Abby and the boy left that it all set in. The ultimate and unavoidable truth. You’ve tried to ignore any symptom that you could feel due to the bite, which didn’t turn out to be hard since well so far all you’ve felt is a slight annoying dull pain. Any other effect had yet to set in, but the wait was the most irritating side effect.

That and noticing that Ellie couldn’t even face you; due to her processing what just happened, what caused her to let Abby go, and that looking at you without having the mission of finding Abby as a distraction meant that she has to face the harsh truth of your death. She had to face the fact that she was losing someone else, she was going to lose someone else to the infection she couldn’t prevent. She was going to be alone.

“Ellie,” you mutter as your footsteps crash on the water while you slowly step towards her. “It was a good thing that you let them go.”

Said girl sits down in the water, letting the small waves crash into her legs, and feeling the breeze blow past her hair and wet her face, mixing her tears with water droplets.

“You’re right…” she breathes out, dropping her head to look at the cold dark blue water. “Joel wouldn’t have wanted it. I’m sorry I didn’t realize that sooner.”

Your lips tug to a smile and you sit beside her, the feeling of your body brushing against hers making her lift her gaze to steal a quick glance. “Why didn’t you stop her? You seemed eager at the end.”

You sigh and dip your fingers in the water to gently sway them back and forth while you answer her. “Realization set just like with you. The nightmares won’t go away anytime soon, and killing her wouldn’t have solved anything either.”

“Nightmares?” Ellie scoffs, finally daring to meet your gaze. “You're still worried about that.”

You laugh softly and glance at the bite on your arm before looking back at her again. “It’s weird, I thought it would hurt, but all I feel is annoyed. No fever, no pain. Nothing.”

Ellie straightens up and her eyebrows furrow as her eyes fixate on your bite mark. “Nothing?” She repeats and the back of her hand presses on your forehead. “Hmm. Maybe we’ll both live with that burden then. Would be nice.”

You offer her a soft smile and grab her hand to interlace it with yours. Feeling hope piece together the fragments of your broken heart. “I guess we’ll have to wait then, to see what the future holds.”

Ellie’s eyes shift to the grey clouded sky, while her hold secures around your hand in hopes that by doing so you wouldn’t leave her. She hoped that her words would be the manifestation needed to keep you alive and keep you from leaving. She couldn’t lose someone else. She couldn’t bear feeling that pain all over again. “Well, I hope you do live.”

A grin spreads on your lips, and your head falls on her shoulder as your own eyes drift to watch the clouded horizon in a peaceful, waiting silence.

Tagged- @protect-lev, @expecto-nox @vintage-and-hypnotic , @kokomaesadie , @0j-b0, @itsyellow , @minheoly @traceylader

#the last of us #the trouble #jesse tlou fanfiction #tlou jesse x reader #jesse fanfiction #jesse x reader #jesse imagines #jesse imagine #Jesse tlou #the last of us part 2 #the last of us imagines #the last of us imagine #ellie last of us #tlou Ellie #Ellie Williams #Abby tlou #Levi tlou #tlou imagine #tlou imagines

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dancingamongstdust · 3 years

Text

Creepypasta Scenarios - First Meeting (Part 3)

I’ve opened requests now, if anybody is interested. Here’s the post:

Requests

Lost Silver

As stupid as it sounds, the game didn’t scare you.

It had started as a joke, something passed around your friend group after it had been discovered. The cartridge was just a janky version of a Pokémon game that was apparently spooky and so, everybody had taken turns messing around with it. They all said creepy things started happening but nothing too bad.

When it was your turn, you had been fully expecting something out of a horror movie. Instead, you had gotten a game that just had audio cut offs and weird notes warning you to stay out. It wasn’t all together scary.

You mentioned this to the next person you gave the game to in your friend group and they had laughed, saying it would probably ring true for them also.

But for some reason, your ally didn’t manifest.

Less than two days later, they practically threw the game at the rest of you and ran away sprouting things about curses. After that, the appeal of playing it kind of went away.

Nobody wanted to buy it and apparently throwing it out wasn’t a suggestion. So you ended up getting it.

Curiosity soon got the better of you and you booted up the game again, really sure that it would do something absolutely crazy but it never did. It ran like it always had with only that one file being completed.

So you deleted the file.

And nothing happened.

The next day, when you booted up the game, the file had simply returned as though you hadn’t deleted it in the first place. A similar thing occurred the next time. And the next.

Eventually you gave up and just started your own game. There, everything ran like it was meant to and you were beginning to think that your friends had all been imagining stuff. Maybe their paranoid got to them or something like that?

But eventually, the nightmares started. And they were bad.

You couldn’t remember exactly what happened during them. They were a swirling mess of games and glitches, horrible things spelled out in letters and blood covering everything. You would always wake up right when they seemed to be coming to a pivotal point. You’d find yourself dragged into a graveyard and then you’d wake up screaming

It was awful. You hardly got any sleep during them and they seemed to haunt you every night, keeping you up until the early hours of the morning.

But the worst only came when you didn’t wake up.

When you were dragged to the grave and looked down to see the ellipsis where the name should be. A punch to the gut that reminded you of what the game file was called. A confirmation of what was causing this dream.

You stared at it for ages before your eyes drifted up and you met his gaze. He was covered in blood, it leaked from every orifice and limb. It stained his dirty clothing even worse.

While you were staring, the world seemed to distort even though he didn’t. The game world melted away and your bedroom slowly reappeared.

It wasn’t until you saw car headlights move past your window – casting awful shadows across the room – that you realised you were no longer dreaming. He wasn’t a figment of your imagination.

The temperature in the room plummeted and you began to slowly reach for a weapon of some kind. He turned to look at what you were watching. His head tilted to the side and a glitch raced across his body before he vanished into thin air. Flicking on the lights didn’t show him hiding or cowering.

Perhaps your friends weren’t crazy after all.

Masky

“You know, if we had been a little more patient, none of this would have happened,” your sibling lectured. “We could be relaxing inside the car without having to worry about a bloody flash flood coming down from the sky.”

You shoved their back, forcing them to stumble a little as they went through the door. “Chances are the river’s going to burst its banks anyway. We would have been stuck in traffic for hours because the bridge is blocked off.”

“At least we would have been dry,” they muttered, running their fingers through their hair. “And not trapped inside an abandoned building.”

You rolled your eyes and made your way over the rubble to settle down on a camping chair. “Don’t even start. This place has been a hangout for my friends and I for ages. There’s never been a single problem bigger than a few spiders.”

“Till a landlord shows up,” they scoffed.

“Then we’ll move to the forest,” you joked. “I’m sure there’s a good bear cave we can use.”

“I’m going to be an only child,” they said, rolling their eyes. Still, they made their way over and sat. “How long do you think we have until the storm dies down?”

You relaxed back into the chair and smiled up at the asbestos-filled ceiling. “From the sound of it, a while.”

It wouldn’t have been the first time you had taken a nap in the building. You were scared of giant cockroaches coming to eat you once. You had gotten used to it since then but this time when you woke up, you were uneasy.

Glancing around, nothing was out of the ordinary. Your sibling was snoring in the chair next to you and outside the rain was pounding the roof.

You sat upright. Sometimes was definitely wrong.

Pulling your phone from your pocket, you got up from the chair and began walking as quietly as you could through the house. It had always been tiny and practically void of furniture, but the few rooms provided ample hiding spots.

Nothing but rubble was in most of the rooms but, in what you presumed had once been a bathroom, you found a person.

He had his back to you but when you pushed the door open to peer in, he spun around, his hand flying to his side. He was wearing a white mask, dark features etched onto it, and an orange jacket. A dark stain ran up the right side of it, emanating from under his hand. The oddness of his clothing made you immediately back away from the door, finger twitching on your cell phone in case you needed to call for help.

The two of you stared at each other in silence.

You were lost about what to say or do. The stain on his jacket was spreading and the more you stared at it, the more you became convinced it was blood. “Are you okay?” you finally managed to ask.

It took him a while to respond but then he nodded. The mask was unnerving you. You didn’t like not being able to see a person’s facial expressions.

“I don’t mean to pry or anything, but it really looks like you’re bleeding,” you said. “And quite badly. I can call for an ambulance or something although…” you turned your attention to the window behind his head. “I’m not sure they’ll be able to get anywhere with this weather.”

He stepped backward. “I’m fine,” he said, so soft you barely caught it. “I thought this place was abandoned.”

“It normally is,” you answered. “But we had to avoid the storm. I’m guessing that’s why you’re here also?”

“Yes,” he responded.

You waited or him to say something more, but all you got was silence. He had moved further away and now he had his back against the window. Part of you wanted to turn around and go back to your sibling but you were unsure about turning your back on the strange man.

The mask made you scared he could stab you or something.

Somebody calling your name made you turn your head on instinct. Your sibling must have woken up and realised you were missing.

Quickly, you turned back to the man, but he had disappeared. Rain spat through the now open window.

Nurse Ann

Everybody always warned you about exploring old buildings. They would yell about how many things could injure or kill you. Stray animals, drug addicts, old equipment, and all that. You had heard just about every warning imaginable. Ghosts were pretty commonly mentioned also.

But killer nurse was a new one.

“Come on, just give me a little more information,” you nagged. “I’m going there whether you’re with me or not so you may as well just tell me what you’ve heard.”

Your friend (and partner in crime for most ventures) groaned. “It’s not much. They just say that she guards the place and if you get too close, she’ll run you off with a chainsaw. Some people have died from injuries they got while there. Let’s just give this one a miss, alright?”

But you were not in agreement at all.

“Maybe she’s cute though,” you teased.

They didn’t find that funny and you didn’t push them to come with you. So later that evening, you snuck in by yourself.

The hospital was old with crumbling walls and smashed windows. It was hidden from the public by means of a tall barbed-wire fence and a substantial distance of open garden. Nothing too extreme for you and definitely worth the potential items you’d find inside. When hospitals went under, they often left tons of awesome stuff just scattered around.

You’d never sold anything you found in your abandoned building dives. They were more collectables than anything else but they meant quite a bit to you.

There weren’t any signs of crazy nurses as you approached the place. Nobody came running at you with a chainsaw at least. You didn’t even find evidence of squatters who could sometimes pose some danger.

After deciding it was safe enough, you lifted yourself through one of the windows and began to explore.

Honestly, it was creepy. Everything was way too old to be worth collecting and there were too many unidentifiable stains for your liking. The water damage was bad. It looked like the ceiling was there for aesthetics only and several rooms creaked too much for you to comfortably cross them.

And that was even without the awkward feeling of being watched.

You told yourself that it was just superstition but you couldn’t shake it. Every few seconds saw you looking over your shoulder in anticipation. It distracted you from keeping your eye on the path in front of you and the loud crack reached your ears too late.

The floor gave out and you fell through. Your shoulder hit some kind of metal object as you landed in the room below. Painful shocks ripped through your body and your head knocked against the floor with a heavy thud.

Stars danced in front of your vision and you raised your hand to the top of your head. Blood coated your hand when you lowered it to look.

Shit.

Shakily, you tried to pull yourself up but quickly found that your arm was too sore. Instead, you pulled your phone from your pocket and sent off the emergency text to your friend.

The world faded to black not long after that.

When you woke up next, you were in your room with a bandage wrapped around your head. You had felt like absolute crap but still gotten up to thank them for the save. They had nodded and warned you to be more careful, happy that you had been outside the hospital so they didn’t have to look for too long.

Before you could even think about how you had crawled there, they asked how you had managed to do your own stitches so nicely.

Puppeteer

Your camera was on 10% battery.

Grumbling, you shoved it into your bag and cursed your past self for forgetting to put it on charge. In order to get the best sunrise photos, you had found yourself waking up earlier and earlier. It was tiring but it was worth it… most of the time.

You just hoped that at least one of your pictures was usable but you could only check on them once you got home.

The streetlight above your head flickered as you walked past. It wasn’t unusual but when you were the only person awake for miles around, it was awfully creepy.

Putting your hands into your jacket pockets, you continued strolling back home. The neighborhood had never been dangerous and despite living in the area for your entire life, no incidents made you want to stop walking around at night.

Deciding that you wanted to take a precautionary shot, you headed for your neighbour’s house first. They had an arch covered in jasmine flowers that made for some perfectly safe photos and they never minded your presence.

After making your way there and getting a few photos, you were treated to the fright of your life when their began howling and barking. It wasn’t aimed at you but you didn’t like the noise regardless.

As you rounded the corner of the house, planning on racing back to your own home, you encountered the dog’s target.

A man – cloaked in the darkness and barely illuminated by the streetlight – opening one of the windows with ease. Irritated by the dog, he didn’t notice you until your finger twitched around the shutter of your camera. There was a flash.

His head snapped up and you screamed.

The man’s complexation was literally grey. He wasn’t just ill, he was the colour of storm clouds. Golden eyes with no pupils glared at you and froze you in place. Whatever he was, this man was the furthest thing from human.

Your scream woke your neighbors. The sound of movement began coming from inside the house.

He abandoned the window, stalking towards you. The air tingled like it was expecting a lightning storm. Golden tendrils grew from his fingertips and shot towards you. They had you pinned in an instant.

You struggled against them and opened your mouth to scream again but they wrapped around your head, forcing your jaw shut.

This was how you died… tears spilled down your cheeks at the realization. You were going to be an unsolved murder. All you hoped was you got a good picture of him.

Your neighbor’s front door opened and great dane let out an ear-splitting bark as he raced toward you.

The man, or creature, or monster, or whatever he was, released you to face the dog. He let it approach before vanishing into a cloud of smoke as its jaws reached him.

“What was that?” the timid voice brought you back into reality.

“It was trying to get into your house,” you said. “I screamed when I saw it and then it grabbed me.” Your voice changed to a whimper as reality hit you. You nearly died.

The small child of the house came over to hug your leg. “I’m sure Puppet didn’t mean to scare you,” she said. “He always comes to visit but he doesn’t like it when people make noise. You shouldn’t scream when you see him again.”

You made eye-contact with the parents and they wore expressions of horror at their daughter’s words.

“Puppet?” you asked in a small voice.

She nodded rapidly. “He says he stops by because he likes watching people. I think that he’s watching us all right now! But he can hide in the shadows too well.”

“I’m going to go and call the police,” somebody said.

You weren’t all too focused. The feeling of being watched grew heavier and you clutched tightly at the camera in your hands.

Slenderman

You couldn’t tell if they were being serious. You hoped that they were joking. They weren’t genuinely going to…

“No,” you stated.

The two younger children both turned to look at you simultaneously. Guilt flashed across their faces as though they weren’t aware you were listening. It was as though you were asked to babysit them because you didn’t pay attention. These two should have realised that by now.

“Do you think all the stories are true?” the boy asked. “I think that they are. One of my friends said she saw a huge dog in the forest and then it ran away after eating a whole cow!”

“No way!” his twin sister shouted. “Dogs don’t eat cows, so it can’t be true!”

You put on your best intimidating expression and crossed your arms. “I don’t care if they’re true or not. There is absolutely no chance that either of you are going to go running off into the woods with bears, wolves and all kinds of other creatures.”

The two children glanced at each other and bolted for the tree line before you could grab their shirts.

Thankfully your legs were longer even if they had a head start and you managed to catch up pretty quickly. Once you caught the boy and picked him up with ease, the girl dashed behind a tree.

“Can we please just leave?” you asked nicely. “If we forget about the forest adventure thing, I promise I won’t tell your parents and I’ll get you ice cream.”

The boy was trying his hardest to get out of your hold. You were starting to think babysitting didn’t pay enough.

“I don’t want ice cream,” the girl said. “I want to go and find a unicorn.”

She darted off into the forest and you let out a deep groan. Shifting the boy’s weight over your one hip, you started walking after her. If you wanted to give chase via running, you would have to put the kid down and trust him to follow or stay.

It was obvious that wasn’t happening.

It didn’t take you too long to find the girl. Mostly because she had stopped in the middle of a weird grove in the trees. She was just staring off into the dark shadows beyond it.

As you approached her, static popped in your ears. You shook your head in an effort to displace it but the closer you got, the louder it became.

The child in your arms whimpered, clutching his head.

You softly called her name and then it appeared. It was a man-like monster, standing just in the shadows of the trees. Easily over 7ft tall and insanely thin with no facial features. Your heart jumped into your throat and your stomach tied itself into a knot.

Without taking your eyes off it, you reached out a hand and fumbled around until you grabbed the girl’s shirt.

The static was getting louder and louder. You tried to shut it out as you started moving backwards, tugging the child along after you. She wasn’t willing to move her legs. She was entranced but whether by fear or magic, you couldn’t tell.

And then it was much closer.

You stumbled in fright, letting go of the girl’s shirt and landing on your ass. The boy fell on top of you but scrambled away and hide in the bushes within the blink of an eye. You sent a silent prayer to him to run back home to the other adults.

Once again, the creature was stationary but now the static was growing to such a volume that you could imagine your ears were starting to bleed.

You reached out for the girl again slowly, but something wrapped around your leg and yanked you into the air.

It took almost a full second for you to realise that the screaming ringing in your ears was you. Whatever was holding you tightened and whipped your body through the air. It was like your leg was being ripped away.

Then you were falling.

It was some feat of luck that you managed to twist your body, so you didn’t land on your head. You lay there for a while before something poking your back made you unbury your face.

The twins were staring at you with wide eyes and the monster was nowhere in sight.

“What was –“ you couldn’t finish.

“Slenderman,” they said in perfect sync.

Splendorman

Another stop…

You couldn’t help yourself. Every time you walked past one of the posters fluttering lightly in the wind you had to stop and stare at it.

A few days ago, your dog, your beautiful and sweet puppy, had disappeared from your house without a trace. The missing posters were depressing reminders that he wasn’t home. It hadn’t taken long for your mind to spiral into the negative thoughts about how close the road was.

Damn your coworkers. One of the had suggested the road in the first place and while they hadn’t intended anything malicious, it was definitely not helping your fears.

The dog had been with you through thick and through thin… if it was dead, you may as well have lost a close family member.

Hanging your head, you dragged your eyes away from the poster and kept walking.

People bumped into you, but it was your fault. You refused to look up in case another poster distracted you. Getting home before the sun set was your only focus now.

You had tried going out and searching in all the places where your dog once spent time to no avail. Always willing to try again, you chose to drop off your bags and head out later that evening when you ran out of distractions.

As you walked through the gates in front of your house, a gust of air gently messed up your hair. A gust of wind suspiciously similar to a laugh.

Your logical mind told you it came from the street, but something made you stop in your tracks.

The walls around your property towered. There’s no possibility that somebody could be in your garden. To try and scale one of the walls, they would have been in full view of your neighbours who would have undoubtedly called the cops.

“You’re sad,” the wind whispered before you could brush off your suspicion.

Spinning wildly, you searched around for the source. You backed up until your entrance gate was behind you. You could run down to the main street with ease if you could just get your fumbling fingers to unlock things.

“Don’t run,” the wind said, this time blowing from a separate direction. “I promise I’m not going to hurt you. I just wanted to know why you’re upset.”

Is this what going insane was? Nobody around and the wind was talking to you. You had always feared losing your mind and now it was happening.

“I’m real,” the wind said. “I’m hiding because I’ll scare you if you see me.”

“I’m going mad,” you muttered, shaking your head. “If this is somebody pulling a prank on me I swear….”

The wind quietened for a bit and then it picked up again, ruffling your hair as it spoke. “If I show myself, it’ll prove that you’re not going crazy, but I don’t want to make it worse by frightening you… you’re so sad already.”

“I lost my best friend and people have been telling me he’s most likely dead,” you hissed. “Obviously I’m not in the best mood. Now I’m losing my fucking mind and talking to air.”

The atmosphere around you dropped, like it does moments before lightning strikes. You glanced at the sky in confusion. As expected, no clouds in sight.

You lowered your gaze and a 7ft tall creature covered in bright polka dots stood in front of your house.

Once you screamed, it disappeared.

“I’m sorry,” the wind said. “I knew I would scare you, but I had hoped it would show you that I’m not imaginary. I’m just trying to help.”

The gate finally opened behind you and you stumbled backwards through it, your heart sitting in your throat. A monster was in your house and it was probably going to kill you. Spinning on your heel, you took off full speed back towards the main street.

You were fully expecting it to give chase now that you hadn’t fallen for its claims of harmlessness but it didn’t.

Instead you reached the main road and only got a few strange looks because of how much you were shaking. Nothing followed you.

The wind picked up once more. “I’ll try and help,” it promised.

People walking around you should have heard it as well but none of them so much as blinked.

Ticci Toby

While you had been told that a noise limit for the forest existed, your laughter refused to cooperate. It rang through the trees and probably chased off all the animals nearby. A picnic out in a national forest was a fantastic way to reconcile with nature and to scare it all away.

With eleven people in your picnic party, chances of any creatures coming into view were already slim though so you didn’t worry too much.

“We didn’t bring nearly enough fruit,” you muttered as you dug in the basket.

“Excuse you, I brought a whole watermelon but you ate it,” somebody answered your grumble. “If you want fruit, it is spring. Go and forage for some berries.”

You snorted. “Yeah, right. I’m going to go out by myself in the middle of the one season where bears are irritable as fuck. I know I sometimes act a little impulsively, but I don’t exactly have a wish to die at the claws of a grumpy teddy.”

Your friend leaned towards you. “Is that so? What if we split into teams and made a bet? Loser has to take a dip in the river.”

“A bet?” you asked. “I’m interested.”

She grinned and snapped her fingers. “Okay, there are eleven people so I’m feeling groups of two with one impartial party as a judge. We should be fine if we make enough noise and stick within close vicinity to each other. See how many berries we can gather?”

Tipping out the picnic basket’s contents, you smirked and pushed it into her chest. “Oh, I hope you brought a swimming costume.”

Everybody teamed up with ease and grabbed one of the many containers lying on the blanket. You headed out with your partner and gave a wink to the other teams. All you needed was to find one good bush first and you had it won.

“We should split up,” your partner said. “Cover more ground.”

You nodded. “We meet up back here once we’ve found a good bush,” you agreed. “And we shout if we find any animals.”

Obviously, your plans hadn’t involved losing your footing almost directly after the two of you split.

Tumbling down the small hill, you tried your hardest to protect yourself from the bushes as you went through them. At some point, you lost your basket and by the time you had finally rolled to a stop, you had no idea where it was.

Grumbling, you stood up and started searching until something dark caught your eye. Thinking it was your basket, you made your way over.

The clearing you walked into housed a scene you could never have imagined.

A dead bear lay slumped against a tree, its fur being what had caught your eye earlier. A hatchet buried in its neck was spilling blood onto the floor around it. All that hardly compared to the man leaning against a tree.

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed. “Are you alright?”

His head immediately snapped up, allowing you to see that he was wearing a mouth guard and a pair of goggles. Blood seeped from between his fingers where they clutched against his chest, but he hardly noticed. A hatchet was hanging from his belt.

Suddenly, you were wishing you had kept your mouth shut.

He stared at you blankly for a while, an occasional twitch minorly affecting his body. Reaching up, he took off his mouthguard. “I can’t feel any pain,” he said. “So, I’m fine. Why are y-you out here? The hiking trail is far.” He struggled with one of the words, seeming to hiccup a little on it.

“I was searching for berries and I slipped down a hill,” you answered. “Are you sure you’re okay? It looks like you got into a fight with a bear. Your shirt is all bloody.”

“I did fight a bear,” he laughed, gesturing to it. “I won.”

Your eyes grew wider. “I think you should get to a hospital. What’s your name? I can call somebody for you and we’ll get you medical attention.”

“Toby,” he said. “That’s my name. What’s yours?”

You gave him your full name and pulled out your phone. “My friends are close by,” you said. “Don’t worry, they’ll be here to help soon.”

When you raised your attention from your phone, he had disappeared and so had the hatchet from the bear’s neck.

Trenderman

Work was hard. It made your feet ache, it made your back click and crack, and it felt like the problems would never end.

Would you give up working in the fashion industry? Not a chance.

Your boss walked past where you were calming down an irate customer over the phone and dropped the keys to the front of the building in front of you. “Close up for me,” she mouthed as she left.

Nodding, you moved them to the side of the desk where they couldn’t be lost.

Once you had finished calming the customer, you glanced around to check how many people were left in the room. Three still working and one in the process of leaving. You were technically going into overtime at this point, but you didn’t mind.

There was a reason you were promoted so quickly.

“We need to set up cameras!” one of the floor managers snapped, storming into the office. She marched straight over to your desk and glowered at you. “I put this request in a week ago.”

Scrolling through the documents, you quickly opened the file. “I see but it looks like it’s been bumped due to a shipment malfunction, I’ll flag it. What’s the problem?”

“Customers or members of staff are moving items around and throwing things out without warning. We need to catch the culprits!” she snapped.

“What has been thrown out?” you asked. “I’ll add it into the information.”

The woman started listing quicker than you could type. “I’ve found crocs, toeless thigh-high boots, bellbottomed jeans, coloured faux fur jackets, luminous lipstick, w-necks, and jeggings all in vast numbers in the trash can. Every time I put them out on shelves, they disappear again.”

It took everything in you not to snort. “I’ll mark this vital.”

She stalked off and you went back to inputting the shipping requirements. You were meant to be organising what was coming in for the latest line and subtly omitting anything that wouldn’t sell well enough.

Slowly but surely, your co-workers trickled out of the office after finishing off their daily tasks. You kept going, trying to make sure you could have a longer break the next day.

Finally, when the sun had already set, you relented and started getting ready to go home.

You sung as you finished packing up for the day. Being the last one in the building (thus having to lock up) made you a little more confident as you danced around getting everything together. You slung your bag over your shoulder and happily trotted over to the door.

It made you so happy that your boss entrusted you to be the last one around. She was so hyper-protective of company secrets that you were proud of yourself for winning her over.

Your talent with people was something you attributed to dealing with painful customers.

As you passed through the store-part of the business you stopped to rearrange a mannequin. Every morning when you came in, you always noticed something had been changed with this specific one. You figured you could move something small and see if it would be a good place to set up a hidden camera.

Though you weren’t expecting it to suddenly grab your arm.

“You may be one of the few workers here with good taste, but I advise you don’t try and change my outfit,” it said. It didn’t have a mouth, but the words rang in your head, nevertheless.

You screamed and pulled away, tearing your arm from its grip. Shelves were knocked over and clothing was sent flying as you tried to escape.

The mannequin just watched you as you fumbled madly for the door.

The glass rattled in the frame from how hard you slammed it shut behind you. You sped off down the street, moving faster than you ever had before. You collapsed on your lawn by the time you reached the house, taking deep breaths.

Nothing had followed you. Everything was okay.

With shaking fingers, you dialed your boss’ number and told her you would be taking a sick day. There wasn’t a chance in hell you were going anywhere near there again.

Not to mention the mess you made… you were definitely getting fired.

#creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #slenderman #splendorman #trenderman #ticci toby #nurse ann #masky #cp masky #marble hornets #lost silver #puppeteer #x reader

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aphrodite-would-be-proud · 3 years

Text

Anon said: tried to read through all your request rules, but I didnt specifically see which Characters you write for. If you do, could you write for Porco helping his S/o sleep? I have super bad insomnia most days, and I just really want something fluffy with Porco...just cuddles or stories or something. If you dont write for Porco though could you switch it with a AoT character you do write for, I'm not really picky. Thank you so much in advance! 🥺💗

Porco helping you sleep

{Porco x reader | tw:none | sleep help, fluff | canon }

{ "The Night School" C.1660-C.1665 By Gerrit Dou 1613-1675 }

Unmoving shadows cast into the empty white walls, slightly flickering with the flame on the white candle sitting on the nightstand. Half lidded eyes observe their small movements for they're the only interesting thing in this empty hotel room you've been assigned.

Your beige uniform tucked into the small closest with a single hanger inside, the armband hanging on the closest door for easy reach. The squeak of the spring mattress chirping up whenever you moved to flip your too stiff pillow.

Judging by the amount of melted wax collecting on the bottom of the candle, you've been awake for far too long.

This isn't the first time this has happened, you're used to getting acquainted with the room's walls and shadowy furniture.

Sleep has abandoned you long ago, its friend insomnia visiting you daily instead. Only leaving every week or so to remind you of what you could never have, taunting almost.

You've tried to force yourself to sleep really, did every known trick in the book, you even tried mediation like Zeke has been preaching to you about, but to no avail. so you've started making peace with the thing, you know at least using the night time to get things done since you're not getting rest either way.

Books were your first friend, for staring at the walls could only be entertaining for so long, but now with your stash of books miles away back home, you're left with nothing else to do.

The nightstand drawer only contained an emergency gun with several bullets inside, and the pocket knife under your pillow wasn't interesting enough.

Getting up from the bed, you picked up the candle before slowly inching the creaky door open. Maybe a glass of water could help, who cares that this is your third time going for water in the last hour? Well hydration is important after all, or so you tried to bargain for an excuse to stretch your legs.

Attempting your best to glide through the old wooden boards without as much as a squeak, you headed towards the kitchen, passing through several other bedrooms in the process, probably all deep in dream land already.

Everything was too quiet, the sound of water filling the glass was the only thing interrupting the silence, its cool feeling going down your dry throat helped you a bit.

Drinking down what you can, you decided to take the rest with you back, a good excuse for a trip to the bathroom later. Although as you turned, a figure was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and staring at you.

"Isn't it too early for breakfast?" Porco said, covering his mouth with his hand as he yawned, "you should get some rest while you can, we're getting thrown in the front trenches tomorrow."

Just the mention of it made your stomach roll at the thought of staying in a muddy hole for days, the smell of gunpowder and yelling of soldiers, not to mention the crowded train rides back home.

"I know, it's just…" you stared at the water moving inside your glass while tilting it, "one of those days, you know?"

eyes narrowing with his eyebrows pulling down in concentration, even Porco's sleep clouded mind could recognise the heavy bags under your eyes. The ride here used all of your energy and now you're too tired to even sleep.

Feeling an unpleasant weight on his chest, he wasn't sure what to say as he approached you, awkwardly leaning against the sink, a heavy sigh left him.

"You know, you should bother me more often, I don't mind it." His gentle tone was followed by a melancholic smile, "let's just...go to bed."

With that his hand wrapped around your wrist, loosely at first like he was reluctant about it, before it got more secure once you didn't pull away.

…

The old door gave out a creek as it closed behind you, the room dimmer than you left it with the candle you're carrying almost burning out.

Looking at the small bed with a single pillow, you wondered how the two grown people would fit in it and judging by the frustrated look Porco was eyeing it with, he must be thinking the same.

Looking at him, your mind wondered back to all the battles you've fought together. For some reason the superiors always seemed more strick and harsh with him, especially after the paradise mission was launched.

Belitting and nagging, carelessly throwing him in risky situations.

Your grip tightened around the water glass, feeling growing thickness in your throat. "Hey...it's okay you can go to your room, you need sleep." You said moving past him to sit on the bed, "I'll be fine."

"Should've thought of that before waking me up, now scoot over." He said, rising an eyebrow and stepping closer.

"I didn't wake you up, you're just a light sleeper." Laying down, you stretched your limbs filling the bed, "there's no room, it won't fit."

Silence filled the room for a while, you could feel his eyes roaming over you, "Oh really? Well…"

One second, you were laying on the mattress while staring at his stubborn expression in confusion, the next a pair of arms was lifting you up as he stole your place before dropping you on him. His arm circled your waist not trusting that you won't pull away

"I made it fit." he looked at you with smugness in his eyes

His warm skin felt comforting against yours, contrasting with the cold room air, you could hear his slowing heartbeat with being so close to his chest, your legs slowly tangling to fit under the blanket covering you.

Apparently that's as far as his genius plan went, because after that an awkward silence filled the room.

"So...you made it fit huh?" You couldn't help but say, a grin slowly spreading on your face.

Porco blinked in response, tilting his head, before his eyes stilled as his ears flushed. "Fucking god, you're such a-" his attempt to scold you was interrupted by a chuckle escaping mid-sentence.

Having a contagious laugh, soon enough you too joined him.

After it died down, the atmosphere was replaced by a much more relaxed one as his hold on you softened, more intimate than the previous one.

"When I was a kid, i used to have trouble sleeping- well more like i was too stubborn to fall asleep." Porco said, trailing his finger up your back soothingly, "and since Marcel was stuck sharing a room with me, he'd tell me stories to get me to fall asleep."

"What kind of stories?"

"...if you tell this to anyone I'm reporting you to the higher ups you for treason, they were flower stories." Clearing his throat, you could feel his heartbeat rising under you,

Closely watching your reaction, Porco continued after some seconds. "now I'm not calling you a kid nor do i think it's as simple, i just think...we should give it a chance."

With the heaviness of the blanket above you and warmth of his body underneath you, it was hard to refuse his request, especially with the way he looked at you so earnestly.

You agreed, and felt his other hand reach to pull up the blanket more, tucking you protectively between his body and the soft fabric.

"This first one is called...well i don't remember what names Marcel gave them, but it's about poppies."

Crimson red bringers of eternal sleep, their crumbled petals and dark centers often found in the ancient tombs of soldiers.

As the mother of nature, Demeter, mourned and grieved from the betrayal of Zeus, it wasn't only the mortal realm in which death loomed at every corner, for her own mind was a tormenting prison of never ending suffering.

And so a droplet of her blood sprang and flourished to create a six petaled flower, easing her heartache if only for a moment as the poppy put her to sleep, numbing the pain.

Following in her trail was a red carpet of poppies, soon enough death and sleep themselves wore the flower, red crowns resting on top of Thanatos's held up head and one almost slipping from Hypnosi's leaning one as he dozed off. for eternal sleep was only another name for visiting the underworld.

A symbol of peace in resting and condolence for the loss of a loved one, became the poppy's role.

"This is why you'd often see them in people's front pockets whenever we return home." Porco said, the light slowly vanishing from the room as the candle burned itself out, the flame snuffed.

You've never questioned why a delivery of poppies would always be on the requirements in each returning celebration, it's just always been there.

Slow and easy breathes flew through you, lazily stretching your arms up till it met something soft. Porco seemed to tense as your fingers loosely combed through his hair, leaning into the touch after a while.

"Don't stop." He murmured, sleep clear in his voice as another yawn left him.

"Do you have any other stories?" Drowsiness sweeping through your mind, you buried your hed deeper against his neck, eyelids fluttering shut.

"Yeah just…" his hand stilled from behind you as he looked into space attempting to recall a memory, soon enough the soft stroking returned. "This one is about peony."

Named after none other than Paeon himself, these flowers lived up to their reputation of healing and honour, for they have their own story to tell.

How the peony came to be declared king of flowers.

During the Tang dynasty, empress Wu Zetian strolled through her garden. Frowning at the empty field of green covered in thick white blankets of snow, the harsh season not showing mercy for the plants.

With a new goal in mind to flip this dreadful looking graveyard of a garden, she set to defy nature for she is the ruler of the land and her word is law.

Per her majesty's order, all flowers shall bloom in the midst of winter's visit.

As the word travelled far, all the fairies in the land couldn't believe their ears, how could such delicate fragile petals grow amidst the storm and snow. For flowers only bloom in spring, how could we go against mother nature?

While merciless mother nature was cruel, she couldn't compare for the empress's strong rule. For the fairies feared for their wings as their knees shook in her presence.

When the sun shined again, it welcomed colourful fields of different flowers in full bloom. The empress was pleased with their sweet smell and proud colours, each one rivaling the other.

And yet, she stood still near one flower bed, eyes wide. The peony deified her words and stubbornly refused to open, only sticks and brittle leaves left in their place.

In a fit of rage, the empress banished the flower to a far away city, striping away their status.

Living up to their stubborn nature, the peony bloomed that spring the most beautiful flowers humans have ever seen, turning the city of Luoyang into a heavenly soft land as their petals danced through the wind.

But their beauty couldn't last long, for a hungry fire swallowed them all, under the order of the empress who turned their green to coal.

And yet to everyone's surprise, when the earth circled the sun again, the peonies were back in bloom. Springing from the ashes were their mesmerising big petals and soft colours.

In their respect, the fairies crowned them for their bravery as the ruler of the flowers, for wasn't it for their sacrifice the flowers wouldn't have been freed.

"They stayed on the right way, even if it meant going against the world." Porco's slurred words were half muffled against the pillow, head buried in it, his eyelids seemed to get too heavy for him to force them open again.

Turning his head to the side, you felt his lips press a light kiss against your forehead before whispering a goodnight, his hold still comfortably secure around you as if you might slip away.

Soon enough, you too drifted into sleep as only his soft snoring filled the room. The moon watching over both of you through the windows as her light barely reached inside.

And at this instant, you didn't think there was anywhere else in the world you'd rather be. Thoughts of what the future holds were pushed to the back of your mind next to the past, for the present is now and what a waste it would be not to bask in these rare moments of peace in this horrible world

#Porco🕯#sleep help🕯#fluff🕯#porco galliard #porco aot #porco x you #porco x reader #porco galliard x you #porco x y/n #aot #snk #aot x y/n #aot x reader #snk x reader #fluff #porco fluff #sleep help #canon aot🕯

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descendantofthesparrow · 3 years

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Finale - Rewrite - POYW - Harry Hook x reader - part 5 - the ember

Outfits;

C4+(y/n)

*Mals transformation (skull is the symbol on her back)

Hadie and Celia

Uma (for her first appearance, she's wearing her canon dress)

The vks finally arrived at the closest shore facing the isle, Mal taking a deep breath and lifting her goggles to look at Celia. They didn’t want to draw too much attention to themselves on the isle so they would get off and on with the spell that Mal had used years back. “you remember what I said?” Mal asked Celia, Celia nodded, slightly unsure this would even work but Mal was sure Celia could use magic, and therefore cast the spell.

Celia took a deep breath and face the isle, picturing all five motor-bikes in her head as she spoke the incantation “Noble steeds/proud and fair, you shall take us/anywhere” the bikes all glowed a reddish-purple, matching Celia’s hair, and Mal nodded, knowing the spell had worked.

Mal put her goggles back down and revved the engine of her bike, leading the others onto the ocean. Hadie looked down at the water in awe as the bikes easily rode on the water as if it was solid ground, he whistled then looked back up to see the isle coming closer and closer. Celia laughed, feeling giddy as it sunk in, she used her magic, she had done it! She couldn’t wait to tell her dad!

After a few minutes the bikes passed through the barrier, both Hadie and Celia winced at the feeling of magical being forced back underneath their skin, and soon they rolled onto land, Mal taking a few turns towards Faciliers arcade that rested right next to curl up and dye. They passed through the wharf marketplace and through the alleyway where their old hideout was (which had been emptied and claimed by someone else)

Mal turned one last corner and parked her bike right in front of the place that used to be Hades Greek restaurant (he used to be there a lot, but at one point he stopped coming completely and left it in the hands of his hires and son, who ‘sold’ it and it was turned into a regular shop with furniture and decor)

The others parked next to Mal and turned off their bikes, taking off their helmets and leaving them on the seats as (y/n), Hadie, and Celia continued to carry theirs. Mal brought a lock of her hair in front of her and sighed, nope, still brown. She had a small hope that the barrier would reverse the spell that Audrey had cast but Mal supposed she was out of luck on that one. “Come on” Mal muttered, Celia leading the way to the arcade as the vks and (y/n) followed her to the arcade door.

Celia placed her helmet onto the fortune reading table for safekeeping (I mean, who would dare steal from the daughter of the shadow man?) (y/n) and Hadie doing the same, and walked up to a multicolored door with the words ‘Do Not Disturb’ in French painted on it.

Celia grinned at the vks and turned back to the door, excited to show off the arcade. She made a few quick beats with her fist, dancing as someone knocked back in a different beat. She did it once more and bounced in excitement as the door unlocked and slid open, the bouncer inside stepping aside as Celia gestured for everyone to follow her. (y/n), Mal, and Evie shared a proud grin and followed after her, Carlos and Jay looking around as they hadn’t been to the arcade in years, and the surrounding area had changed since the last time they were there.

Celia rushed through the entrance, gasping in delight as she saw the back of her father's head, she practically jumped down the steps and grinned widely as her father turned and smiled. “Hey!” he turned and threw his cane to one of his workers who caught it and turned back to a card reading table. Facilier turned back to his daughter and held his arms out “there she is!”

“Daddy~!!” Celia squealed as she ran towards him and slammed into his arms, laughing as he lifted her into the air and set her down on his other side. The two engaged in a little dance that had obviously been done time and time again, created years ago and they had decided to keep it up. Mal didn’t stop the smile from blooming on her face, while they were on a time crunch and the worlds impending doom was on its way, it warmed her heart to see good parents on the isle, it was rare to see one of the adults not seer at their kids, it was a wonder to see them be fully affectionate.

Plus Facilier had always been one of those adults the kids went to if they needed help, he was “nice” like that. Facilier tapped his cheek, expecting a kiss from Celia but the girl cheekily tapped his hat instead and started to run, squealing with laughter as he caught her and pulled her into his side. Mal and Evie grinned at each other, their delight at seeing the father-daughter relationship slightly dimmed by their lack of one.

The vks loosely followed the two Facilier’s as (y/n) explored the arcade, whistling a bit as she looked around at the extravagant displays and games surrounding her. She had heard Harry and Gil talk about this place before but she had never had the opportunity to visit it when it was active.

Celia grinned as her dad leaned down next to her ear “so what kinda hustle do you got goin’ on with them, shiny people?” Celia just grinned and pulled a small purple velvet drawstring bag out of her shoulder bag, plopping it in his hand and kipping over to the wall of signs next to her dad’s card reading table and grabbing the skull-shaped key then looping it around her neck.

Her father looked at her with pride as he held the piles of coins in his hands, all from the Auradon people she had read cards for in the last day. “Cher” her dad whispered, pride clear in his voice as he carefully poured the coins back into the pouch and tossed it back to his daughter “look at my little girl go, already conning half of Auradon~” Celia just grinned, perking up as Carlos called everyone over to a static tv that was connected to the Auradon network.

The reporter on screen stood at Auradon prep, next to the statue of Adam, as the camera followed him as he walked “Alerts of a sleeping spell keep coming in as it spreads across Auradon, sources say the daughter of Aurora, Audrey, is responsible for this spell; were trying to discover who is responsible for these vicious lies, and which villain has perpetrated this evil” the man stopped and held his finger up to his earpiece, his face paling in fear “it’s what? it's heading this way, cut it-cut it! we have to run!” the screen cut to static and the vks looked at each other in terror.

“We have to go get the ember” Mal rushed out, Hadie leading the way as you waited for Facilier to release his daughter's shoulder as he stared at the screen in fear for his daughter.

“I’ll protect her,” you said with a smile, holding out your hand to the girl as Facilier nodded and let Celia go.

“You better” he muttered, crossing his arms as you and Celia raced out after the others.

“Rookie mistake” Carlos grumbled as he spotted some of Umas crew members on top of their bikes as they rounded the corner of the alleyway. You sighed, looking over Jay’s shoulder to see Jonas on Jay’s bike, grinning wildly.

“Get off my bike!” Jay yelled out, leaping forward in an attempt to grab Jonas’ jacket as the pirate laughed. Jay just missed as Jonas and his four other pirate cohorts all raced off on your bikes, and you could recognize Bonnie on top of yours. “Over the roofs!” Jay yelled out, Evie and Carlos nodding and running off as Jay turned to you “cut them off” you looked back at Mal and nodded, climbing the buildings and running after the sound of the bike engines.

Celia went to follow but Hadie and Mal grabbed her arms, preventing her from joining the case “Hey, hey hey! They got this, we need to get the ember ASAP” Mal stated, nodding as Celia sighed in slight disappointment.

“Good timing too” Hadie muttered, checking his watch “right about his nap time” Mal raised her brow but followed her fellow vks as they quickly walked towards the other end of the isle where the mines were.

‘he takes naps?’ Mal thought, looking behind her and seeing you dropping down into an alleyway a few buildings away. She turned back to Hadie and Celia then quickly caught up to them as they had walked faster than she thought they would.

After a few minutes of (almost running) rushed walking, the three vks arrived at the mines, guarded by an intimidating metal gate with Hades symbol, made out of wooden planks and old tires, on the front, with multiple keep out and warning signs plastered around. “Hey” Mal interrupted Celia, who was unlocking the door. Hadie and Celia stopped to look at her confused, Hadie halfway wondering if she was backing out of the plan “how big is that dog?” Mal nodded that sign behind Celia and she turned, Celia sighed and shook her head as Hadie snorted at a joke that wasn’t there.

“You’ll see” Celia muttered as Hadie snorted again, pulling the gate open and leading the two girls inside. Celia gasped quietly and turned back on Mal, holding her finger up to her lips “Okay, you have to stay quiet it echoes like crazy in here” even as Celia whispered it reverberated against the old rocky walls of the isle mines. Mal nodded and glanced around at the multiple record speakers that hung off the walls, following Celia as Hadie stood by the railway that led towards his father's lair.

Mal jumped at the sudden sound of multiple dogs barking and grabbed onto Hadie, who laughed quietly and pointed at the speakers “not here” Hadie whispered, waving Celia off the bike turned-makeshift minecart hybrid “too loud, if we’re stealing the ember, we need to be quiet as possible, we walk. It’s not too far” Mal nodded and kept her grip on Hadie’s arm, tensing up each time the guardian of the underworld's barks echoed around her. Hadie glanced at her but said nothing, letting her use him as a crutch as the three vks walked down the dark and damp tunnels of the abandoned mineshafts.

Hadie took a few twists and turns, apparently a shortcut to his room (which was also a back way towards Hades main area of his lair), and soon the three stepped out into a pretty large room with a queen-sized bed with a dark grey and blue bedspread. Hadie grabbed a bass from his wall and carried it, nodding out towards the curtain door “an excuse, case he wakes up as we walk out” Hadie whispered, Celia went first as they stepped through the curtain.

Mal stopped as her eyes locked onto the back of the god of the underworld's head, his hair was a dim dark blue, the side effect of his hair unable to light ablaze. Mal sighed in relief as the god snored loudly…very loudly, it reminded Mal of when Ben’s dad had fallen asleep during a late-night hangout back when Mal was still in school at Auradon prep.

As the three crept closer, the sounds of dogs barking started to loop, and Mal looked around confused before Hadie pointed at an old record player, it had hit a scratch on the disc and was now looping on a singular bark. Mal breathed a quiet sigh of relief, that meant no dog to be fed to if Hades caught them.

Mal walked heel to toe as she snuck over to Hades, while Hadie and Celia slowly made their way around the other way. Just as Mal got close, Celia got fed up with the record and lifted the needle, sending a loud screeching noise through the cave. Mal and Hadie glared at Celia, as the rash decision had made Hades wake up. He lifted his head slightly and look directly at his son and Celia “What are you doing here?” he grumbled in a tired tone, yawning a bit as Hadie raised his bass in the air.

“Forgot my bass” Hadie simply said as Celia took out a can of corn and a packaged blue rock candy.

“I noticed, you were out, of canned corn” she tossed the candy and can to the god and he caught them with one hand. Mal by then had lifted the ember out of the dish it was sitting in and was bringing it to her chest, screaming lightly as Hades suddenly grabbed her hand, stopping her from crouching out of sight.

Hades turned to look at her, his yellow eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. Mal harshly swallowed and released the ember as he took it from her, moving to rest his head on his arm. He and Mal stared at each other for a moment, Hadie and Celia standing awkwardly near the old wooden stairs that lead back up to the tunnels. “um-“ Mal started in a meek voice, watching his eyes as he looked at her newly brown hair and eyes “-can I have that?” her usual confidence was gone, she was powerless and in front of a god who could pick her up with one hand and chuck her across the room even without his powers.

Hades raised his brow and turned his head to look at the ember, which was black as coal, in his hand. Then he looked back at her. “And why should I give it to you?” Hades asked coolly, taking off his glasses and tossing them to the side, leaning back in his minecart turned chair, lofting his boots up next to Mal’s face. “uh-“ Mal clearly hadn't expected him to ask that, she had expected him to get angry and throw her out of his lair. Quick mal, come up with an excuse or something! “I need it?”…nice one Mal, top-notch, he’ll for sure give you the ember now.

Hades rolled his eyes and looked to Hadie, who just shrugged. “Auradon is in danger and we need the ember” Hadie answered dryly, watching Mal carefully as she stepped in front of Hades and held out her hand, his father's yellow eyes staring down at Mal carelessly.

“Please?” Mal asked in a much firmer tone, her eyes looking directly into Hades. Hades huffed and lifted up the ember, waving the black gem around a bit.

“You’re only half Hades, the ember won't do everything for you that it does for me” Mal clicked her jaw and gestured to Hadie, not really paying attention to what Hades had just said.

“Hadie’s gonna be the one to use it anyway, I just wanted-to…” Mal’s brain caught up to the words that had just come out of Hades mouth and she looked back up at him with wide eyes, Celia’s jaw had dropped as she realized what he had meant “IM HALF WHAT?!” now Hades looked confused, looking at Mal as if she was crazy.

“you-you didn’t know?” Hades has lost his confidence, his brow raising in confusion, then he looked to Hadie “she doesn’t know?”

Hadie just pinched his brow and sat down on the wooden steps, ignoring his father and (newly announced) half-sister as the Mal started to squabble about her mother and Hades. “fuckin-what?!” Mal screeched, running her hands through her hair and starting to pace around the lair, Celia looking concerned as Mal tugged at her brown locks “you?! My dad?! That’s-that’s not right?! My mom said he was human, a full-on human!? It can’t be you it-“ Mal started to hyperventilate and Hades took her hands, bringing her closer to him and looking into her eyes. “Kid, calm down, you’re having a panic attack, breathe with me, okay?” Mal knew she had to listen or she would pass out so she followed Hades lead. When she got control of her breath again, she pushed him away, wiping away the tears that had gathered in her eyes “she never told you?”

“I guess fucking not” Mal assumed he meant her mother never telling her about her true father “and-also HOW?!” Hades just gave her a knowing look “NOT LIKE THAT-“ Mal did NOT want to think about her mother and Hades doing the do “-I mean-how did” Mal gestured to herself then Hades “this! Happen?? I thought you were loyal to Persephone!?” “Mom knows about this by the way” Hadie interrupted, motioning between his father and sister “and she’s pissed the fuck off, so whenever you see her again dad, you have millennia of making up to do” Hades winced at the thought of his wife being very mad at him, but it wasn’t unwarranted, but he had another matter to attend to.

Hades sighed and turned back to Mal, rubbing his stubble “I got drunk, very drunk, I don’t remember much but I woke up next to your mother and eleven months later you were dropped off for me to babysit” Mal’s jaw dropped in shock and slight disgust “I didn’t know about you until you were already two months old, and then I took care of you for about three months before your mother took you back, something about an heir of darkness.” Hades waved off the notion of Maleficent abandoning Mal on his doorstep and continued on as Mal gawked at him. “and before you ask-I do know I am really your dad because your hair was blueish-purple when she dropped you off and it was almost completely blue when she took you away, I think your magic reacted to whomever you were around the most-“ Mal shook her head, she didn’t have time for this!

“Okay, whatever, I don’t care. I don’t have time for all this” Mal waved her hands around in frustration(noticeably in the same way Hades did but no one commented on it) and held out her hand again “but! If you wanna make up for being a lousy dad” Hades frowned at that “gimme the ember” he stared down at her for a moment before gently placing the ember into Mal's palm, Mal closing her hand around it and nodding “thank you, it’ll be returned after we save Auradon”

“It won’t work for you completely, you are still only half Hades” Hades warned as Mal pocketed the ember into her thigh bag, raising his brow as she glared up at him. “So what? I’m not the one using it, dad” Mal hissed the last word, as if it was poison in her mouth. She didn’t fully believe him, after all, if her mother had lied to her for years about her father, who's to say he wasn’t lying to her now?

Mal pushed past him and up the steps, Celia quickly following her as Hadie set down his bass and looked back at his dad.

“Did she really never tell her?” Hades asked quietly, looking up at the stairs after Mal, an upset look on his face. “all this time, almost 19 years of standing by, she didn’t even know?”

Hadie sighed and crossed his arms “You really think Maleficent would have told Mal about her true parentage? If Mal had known you were her dad, she would have never listened to Maleficent, she manipulated Mal…I have to go, kingdom to save n all” Hades nodded, watching his son walk out after his daughter and sighing. So much for respecting Mal’s wishes.

Celia looked up at Mal, pressing her lips together as the awkward silence pierced the air. “I guess that’s why he was always asking about you” Celia murmured, stopping in front of the front gate as Mal paused, looking directly at the ground.

Mal then shook her head, lifting it up to stare straight ahead “let's go, we’re wasting time” Mal continued forward towards the main area of the isle again, Hadie and Celia giving each other a look before following after her. Mal was right, there were more important things to get to than her parentage.

Ben was back at his desk, talking on his phone with one of the captains of the royal guard “No. no, I want the royal guard handing out gas masks!” Ben said in a stressed tone, tapping through his tablet as more reports of the sleeping spell came through. Ben growled a bit as the captain on the other side muttered something about the spell “Well not everyone's asleep!” Ben hung up and tossed his phone on his desk, looking up and pointing at the servant standing at his door “Find out if anyone has seen Audrey, and see if she has a list of demands!” the servant nodded and turned out the door.

Ben sighed and unzipped his jacket, flopping back on his chair and running his hand through his hair as he tried to calm down. Why had this happened? What had happened with Audrey that caused Maleficent to possess her?

Mal had texted him earlier that the spell used the victim's emotions against them, so whoever had taken the scepter was feeling very intense emotions, enough for her mother to feed on that. So what had Audrey been feeling when Maleficent took control?

Ben had a sinking feeling it had to do with one very bitter grandmother.

“just one~” Ben yelped and stood from his chair as he spun around, eyes widening as he locked into Audrey’s eyes, which were swimming with green. “I demand my life back”

Ben looked behind him at his door, mentally cursing as all his guards had left to go help the people. “I have a proposition for you~” he turned back to Audrey and watched as he pointed behind her towards the rest of the kingdom “I’ll wake everybody up right now, under one, itty bitty condition” she stepped closer to him, her eyes flashing green. “make me queen”

‘queen?’ Ben thought confused, why would Audrey want to be queen? Why would Maleficent want to be queen? Then Ben remembered when he overheard one of Leah’s bullshit rants about Audrey’s right to the crown. Audrey was just doing exactly what her grandmother wanted, just in a twisted way…that’s why Leah had been turned to stone that morning.

And Maleficent was just going along with Audrey’s ‘desires’ so she wouldn’t be detected by the young princess, she was waiting for the opportune moment to take over completely. “Audrey” Ben started softly, taking her hand and bringing it towards him. Audrey looked confused, her eyes flickering with magenta and green. “someone spelled you, you have to let me help you-“Audrey's eyes turned fully green and she ripped away from Ben, and Ben knew Maleficent was in control now.

“Pathetic” Audrey hissed in a cold tone, her face morphing into a sneer as the scepter glowed bright green in her hand “so kind, so trusting, you won't even strike your precious little friend down just when you had the chance” Ben glared at Maleficent, hand drawing behind him to the hidden dagger that (y/n) had stashed a couple of months ago. “just like your mother…” Audrey’s eyes turned bright green and then she grinned cruelly “but so afraid of being like your father~” Ben froze in fear, realizing what she was talking about. No, she wouldn’t “let's see how you like being a beast~” Ben raced forward in an attempt to snatch the scepter from Audrey but he was blown back as it flashed green and his body was overtaken in a green flash.

Ben screamed out in pain, but It only came out as a monstrous roar, his teeth becoming fangs as his nails pushed out and sharpened, fur erupting from his entire body and everything just became so loud.

He let out another painful roar, Audrey cackling in the background as the scepter flashed magenta and Ben swore he heard someone screaming then everything went silent.

Ben blacked out from the pain and when he woke up a few moments later, Audrey was gone, the only thing left was a few wisps of smoke. Ben crawled over to his balcony and looked down, a whimper slipping through his new snout as he saw many of the servants now turned to stone. Ben turned on his heels and ran through the castle, looking for anybody who could help him, his claws ripped and scratched at the walls as he raced through them, he ended up at the hall of armor and ripped open the doors, claws digging into the frame and Ben ended up with a large splinter in his palm.

He roared in pain again and ran out the other side of the hall, crashing through the doors and running into the forest, he couldn’t let anybody see him like this, he had to find a way to turn back into a human before he hurt someone.

Mal, Hadie, and Celia walked back into the arcade, Celia racing towards her dad as Mal walked over to her friends who were playing some odd combo of foosball and pool. “M!” Evie called, relieved her friend was okay as Mal trotted over to her and wrapped her arms around Evie’s arm. Evie grabbed Mal’s shoulder with her free hand and looked at her “do you have it?” Mal nodded and dug into her thigh bag, taking out the black as coal ember. “Good, let's get off this rock”

Mal nodded, turning to jay to ask him where the bikes were but he interrupted her “how’d you get it? I assume he either gave to Hadie or you snatched it?” Mal winced at the reminder of how she had gotten the ember.

Welp, no better time to tell them then now, eh? “uh, yeah about that” Mal muttered, looking down at the ember in her hand “uh, he just-gave it to me?” it sounded more like a question than anything else. Mal was unsure if Hades really was her dad, but she would spill details about the entire thing later, right now the short and sweet answer was best.

“He just” Carlos started, furrowing his brows in confusion and glancing to Hadie “gave it to you? And not Hadie?”

“Yeah well, there's a reason behind it which is-guess whomst the fuckiest my dad is?” Mal laughed, giving her friends a tilted smile as they looked at her strangely, why bring up her dad at a time like this?

“Oh no fucking way” it hit Carlos first, his eyes widening “no fucking way but you said-“ Mal laughed again, sounding strangled.

“I know! I know! I thought so too! But I guess it's just another thing my mother lied to me about” Jay looked a little miffed at not understanding what Carlos and Mal were talking about, Evie looking lost as well “Remember how I said my dad was human? For the last 19 fucking years?” Jay and Evie nodded, (y/n) cleaning up the table behind them before freezing as realization dawned on her.

“Oh, no fucking way” (y/n) groaned, looking to Mal with an exasperated look “your dad is-that means-what the actual fuck” Evie finally had enough and turned to Mal with her brow raised.

“Okay spill before I stab you”

“Apparently, my dad is fucking Hades” Mal hissed quietly, leaning closer to Jay and Evie as their eyes went wide in shock “Yep, my mother lied, again, about my dad. Told me he was human to keep me in check and shit.”

“I-“ Jay stuttered, unable to get anything out as his mouth opened and closed. “are you sure?” At this Mal shook her head, no she wasn’t sure, but this was helping them in their favor, Hades had given Mal the ember willingly under the pretense she was his kid.

“no im not, and I don’t want to know how or why, but we can do all this processing shit later when Auradon or Audrey aren’t in danger, let’s go. You got our bikes back, right?” Mal asked the boys, wincing as (y/n) glared darkly. She would take that as a no then.

“Nope, they got away” Carlos muttered, crossing his arms.

“The only way back to Auradon is the bridge” Mal sighed, smiling as Evie clicked her heels on the dusty arcade floor.

“Glad I wore my comfortable heels then” Jay grabbed Evie's arm before the two could leave.

“Yeah, we need the remote, and I left it at the house” Mal and Evie shared a horrified look, what were they going to do? Auradon was in danger and they were stuck on the isle with no way off.

“I lifted it off of you” the group turned to Celia, who was holding the golden remote to the barrier “I thought it would be useful and it is” Evie smiled, stepping towards Celia and leaning on a support beam.

“Good job” Celia smiled and Jay took the remote, pressing his lips together in an impressed smirk.

“Sweet” Celia turned to hug her father one last time as everyone grabbed their bags and started to make their way out of the arcade, she kissed him on the cheek and ran after (y/n), meeting (y/n)’s stride as she patted Celia’s back.

“Good job kid” Celia beamed again, happy her thieving skills were being appreciated. “also Mal!” Mal turned her head to show she was listening “After this shit is over, we're coming back here and getting those damn bikes back, that thing is too damn expensive to lose to a fucking isle goon” Mal snorted and nodded.

“Noted” honestly Mal wanted her bike back anyway, Carlos had spent several months making and modifying their bikes to fit them perfectly, she wasn’t about to let them be stripped.

The group of vks, and one dimension traveling girl, finally arrived at the bridge, Jay taking out the remote and pressing the bottom button opening the barrier. “Come on” Mal mumbled, nodding her head towards the opening. The others followed her lead and stepped over the barrier line.

Just as the ember crossed over the line, it ignited in a strong flash of light and heat, Mal felt fire shoot up her hand holding the ember and cover her entire body. Mal gasped in slight pain as the flash of energy flooded through her and filled her with a brand-new feeling of power and magic she had never felt before.

Mal let out the shuddering breath she had been holding and shook her head, the fire that had been drained by Audrey had been returned at full force…but it felt…different from her normal fire. Mal opened her eyes and looked down at her hands, gasping as she realized her entire outfit had changed. Gone were the purples and greens of her maleficent-themed outfit, replaced by the cool blues and dark greys of Hades, blue flames licking up her jacket-turned-vest and boots.

…guess Hades wasn’t lying then, Mal frowned, looking at herself a bit more as she realized she had transformed into ‘the daughter of Hades’. She had no other explanation for why the ember had done what it did otherwise.

“Holy shit” Carlos muttered, grabbing Mal's arm to stabilize her as she wobbled on her feet slightly “What happened?”

“I don’t know” Mal muttered slightly grumpy as she twisted the ember in her eyes, it had ignited in a strong blue “It might have to do something with the ‘Hades being my dad’ thing? Hadie?” Mal looked to Hadie, frowning as he looked just as confused as she felt. “shit, okay, um-ya know what? We’re gonna ignore this for now and figure out what the fuck happened when all this shit is over with okay? Okay.” Evie picked up a lock of Mal's hair, bringing it in front of Mal's face “Evie-my hairs blue….my hair is fucking blue it was brown two seconds ago and now it's blue”

“To be fair your hair was purple three hours ago, and it's also purple at the top.” Jay supplied, pulling back a bit as Mal whirled around to glare at him. “uh-yellow eyes too” Mal scrunched her nose at Jay and huffed.

“Not helping Jay” Mal hissed, she turned back towards Auradon and closed her eyes “Okay, we-let’s just go, we’re wasting-HEY!” just as Mal was handing the ember to Hadie, Evie lifted her arm to push a lock of hair behind her ear and bumped Mal's hand, sending the ember flying. “no!” Mal screamed in panic, running towards the edge and about to jump for the ember when a very familiar tentacle sprung from the eater and grabbed the ember “wha-“

Uma rose from the water, looking absolutely ethereal in her golden shell crown and teal dress, her turquoise locs pulled back halfway as the rest framed her shoulders. Uma grinned and raised her arms, the tentacle holding the ember following them “drop something~?”

“It can't get wet!” Mal yelled in a pleading tone, gesturing for Uma to get onto the bridge “give it back before it goes out!” Mal could see the ember sparking and flickering in Uma’s hold. Uma just laughed and her tentacle curled around the ember, sealing it airtight between two suckers. her eyes turned to you, who was grinning down at her from the bridge.

“Uma~!” you yelled in excitement, bouncing on your heels as she gave you a little wave.

“That’s my name~” she purred, giving one last smirk to Mal then she sunk into the water, the ember still tight in her grip.

“Wait!” Mal called desperately, she couldn’t lose the ember, it was their only hope! Mal took a step back in fear as from where Uma had sunk a large tunnel of water began to rise until it burst, soaking everyone but you.

“Ah!” Mal yelled, pausing as she noticed the water starting to evaporate almost immediately, off her body, especially her hair. “I wha-“ nope, nope nope nope, not important right now. She noticed the same was happening to Hadie, and the two were the first dry out of everyone else.

Mal looked back down at the water, searching for Uma “Behind you~” Mal gasped and spun around, seeing Uma in a dark teal button-up, dark blue leather pants, and brown boots, her golden shell necklace sitting proudly on her neck.

Before anyone else could say anything, Mal spoke up, lifting her arms into the air in exasperation “Where the hell have you been?!”

Uma looked genuinely surprised that those were the words that had come out of Mal’s mouth instead of just accusing her of villainy and trying to steal the ember back “We’ve been looking for you for three fucking years!! Do you know how much Harry and Gil bugged Ben and I because you wouldn’t show your damn face?!” Mal screeched, rubbing her face in exhaustion at the reminder of when Harry and Gil had straight up annoyed her and Ben back when the search for Uma was fresh. “Do you even know you were pardoned two years ago? You could've surfaced at any point and you would have been fine!!”

“That’s what I said to-….her” you covered your mouth as Mal slowly turned to look at you with wide eyes, Uma face palming as you winced “uh-“

“…(y/n) did you harbor a criminal?” Mal asked dryly, raising her brow as you shrugged.

“Technically no, I just, brought her food n all that…I honestly have no idea where she stayed, but we had a meeting place?” Mal sighed and shook her head, turning to look back at Uma who stiffened up in a defensive stance. “Also, Ex-criminal” you stated, shrugging as Mal just gave you an exasperated look “jus’ sayin”

“Whatever, Uma, I need that” Mal held her hand out towards Uma, looking at the ember in the sea-witches hand. “to break a spell”

“Cast by maleficent, proxied by Audrey, sleeping beauty’s daughter” Carlos explained, eyes locked onto the ember in Uma’s hand.

“So-the good guys the bad guy-“ Uma furrowed her brows as she tried to figure out how Maleficent cast the spell through Audrey. “well, I might not give it back, see what happens” your smile dropped and you stepped closer to Uma, taking her shoulder.

“Uma no, Harry and Gil are still in Auradon and we need the ember to save them if anything has happened to them, neither of them answered my calls and I don’t want to risk anything” Uma just pursed her lips, looking between you and the pleading Mal, who looked more worried as time went on.

“Guarantee me, that any single villain kid that wants to, can get off the isle” Mal pressed her lips together at Uma’s demand, wanting to agree but the deal she had made with Beast prodded the back of her mind.

“I-I can’t do that” Mal stuttered, clenching her hands by her sides, watching the ember carefully as Uma rolled her eyes and walked to the edge of the bridge. “Can't do that” Uma muttered, turning and holding the ember over the water “Well how bout now?!”

“Deal!” Mal screamed desperately, not bothering to hide the panic on her face as she held her hands out towards Uma “Deal, deal! I promise every kid will come off, but please!...Please.” Uma looked at Mal carefully, looking for any deception before she relented.

“Fine” Uma muttered, sliding the ember into her jacket “but I’m keeping it, because if you think I trust you to save Auradon on your own” she laughed a bit, giving Mal a once over “Think again” Mal closed her eyes and sighed, at least the ember would be on their side.

“Okay fine, this is fine, we need to go now though, Jay!” he nodded and pressed the bridge button, the magic extending from the broken bits they were standing on towards Auradon. “let’s go, we have no time to lose!” Mal jogged forward, Evie, Jay, Carlos, Celia, and Hadie following close behind, leaving you with Uma.

“When we find the boys, I’m blaming the entire ‘hiding you for 3 years and never telling them’ thing on you, since it was your idea and I would like to stay in Harry’s good graces” you joked, booping Uma’s nose and grabbing her hand to drag her along to follow the others down the bridge.

Uma rolled her eyes and hurried her pace, realizing that things were a lot more serious than she had thought, Mal hadn't even tried to start an argument, only focused on saving Auradon.

-end of p5-

part 5 yall!!!! the vks got the ember and mal discovered something new~!!! her dad! yeah in this Mal legit had no idea who her dad was, all she knew was that he was human and he was banished by her mother for his human weaknesses. so Mal thought her dad was a completely different person due to her mothers lies and just now found out it was a lie an all that. yeah bunch of shit XD so Ben is now a beast and Uma is here~!!!! hope yall enjoyed~!!

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divine-bangtan · 3 years

Text

- mirror, mirror on the wall | ksj (m)

⤏ vampire!seokjin, pwp, medieval!au

⤏ word count: 6.5k

⤏ Being a vampire prince, Seokjin is used to feeling everyone’s eyes on him. In fact, he’s come to expect it from his subjects. So when you won’t look at him of course he’s not happy. After all, didn’t anyone teach you it’s rude not to stare at him?

a/n: listen,,,this is unedited and overdue bc I am trash. Also for someone who doesn’t like humiliation and degrading sex I sure had way too much fun writing this I have nothing 2 say for myself okay enjoy. Happy birthday Seokjin!

⤏ vampire prince!seokjin, human servant!reader, exhibitionism, degration, nipple play, fingering, slight anal play, squirting, biting, blood drinking, orgasm denial, spanking, candlewax play, oral (m. receiving), face fucking, hair pulling, pussy slapping, seokjin is fucking hung and his precome is an aphrodisiac, bath sex, mirror sex, cockwarming, creampie, what even is aftercare lol.

One minute had already passed, your trembling hand still hovering in front of the door while you worked up the courage to knock. A single bead of sweat which had gathered at the nape of your neck dripped down your skin, and you swallowed hard in an attempt to quell your nerves. Your attempt at delaying this was inevitable, he was expecting you, had summoned you personally and he could likely tell how long you’d been standing there as well.

With that driving thought in mind, you chewed on your lower lip for another second and moved your hand to finally knock.

“You may enter,” came from within the room before your knuckles had even made contact with the wood. The deep voice was slightly muffled through the walls, but nonetheless it still made you shudder with its authority. Swallowing again, you leaned most of your weight on the solid wood to open the door. Something sinister hung in the air, and you stood rooted in the entrance of the prince’s private chambers, entire body thrumming with trepidation.

Glints of gold caught your gaze, coming from every corner of the space as the candles flickered and shadows seemed to grow and lurk where your stare didn’t quite reach. Everywhere your eyes landed screamed lavish riches. If it was not pure gold, the furniture was dripping in rich, red velvet. Curtains so thick they were easily able to block out the brightest sunlight cascaded down the walls, half concealing the intricate tapestries that adorned them. The entire space had a mysterious feel to it, with an underlying sense of danger that made your heart skip a beat.

The entrance room alone made your head spin, and an unknown force pulled you further into the labyrinth, your feet moved as if possessed, deeper and deeper into the lion’s den. A gust of wind made the curtains rustle, carrying whispers you couldn’t quite understand. You moved to look closer at the paintings on the wall on the other side of the hallway, to inspect the scenes of battle they seemed to depict. However, something stopped you dead in your tracks, a powerful presence behind you. It had you whirling around, staring through a lavish open doorway.

You gasped softly when you turned and your eyes landed on the bathtub in the centre of the room, so large it was almost taking up half the space. Wisps of steam floated from the surface of the water which gleamed iridescent in the candlelight, no doubt filled with expensive lotions and perfumes. What was more impressive, however, was the many flower petals which adorned the water.

Your eyes lifted to finally meet the eyes of your prince, Seokjin, who reclined against the edge of the tub with an air of relaxed ease. His arms stretched out either side of him, the slight bulge of muscle beneath his honeyed skin causing you to swallow extra hard. The position made his already broad shoulders look even larger, like they could block out the whole sky as he looked down at you. It suited him well. Regality, beauty, immortality. When he raised his dark eyes to pierce yours you felt as though you’d been lured right into the lion’s den, and he was about to devour you alive. A smirk tugged at his plush lips and his gaze burned a hole right through you, the carpet quickly became your solace.

“How may I serve you, your excellency?” You murmured, trying to keep your tone steady, yet you knew his supernatural senses would pick up the slightest tremble. There truly wasn’t anything you could hide from him.

A long silence came from his direction, filled only by the pounding of your heart. Warmth crept up your neck, heating up your cheeks under his intense scrutiny and you squirmed slightly, feeling the tops of your thighs already growing damp.

“Wet…” he softly noted with humour, your human ears barely picking up on it. Embarrassment caused your heart to practically halt in your chest, could he really tell so easily? “My drink.” He spoke again, much louder this time and you jumped as you snapped out of your stupor. That was until his words registered. Drink? He wanted to drink? From you?

“My wine, over there. Bring it to me,” he pointed lazily toward a table across the room before sinking into the water until he was completely submerged.

Oh. You couldn’t help the slight pang of disappointment that you felt at the fact that you weren’t going to experience a vampire bite. From what you’ve heard they were incredibly pleasurable, some even achieving climax untouched. But to be fed from by the prince himself, of course it was foolish of you to think something like that would ever happen to you. Blinking back frustrated tears you trudged over to the table, picking up the golden tray with the pitcher and goblets already placed on it.

Complete silence filled the room after you set everything down next to the tub, warily eyeing the dark surface of the water. However, you were unable to catch a sign of the prince and took it as your queue to leave, defeated at having gotten your hopes up. He likely knew what he was doing, bringing you here to torment you. It was obvious how painfully attracted you were to the prince, how much everyone was. Others were definitely not shy in their affection yet you were unable to even look at him for longer than a few moments.

A loud splash was all the warning you got before suddenly Seokjin broke from the surface of the water, standing to his full height in all his naked glory. Droplets of water clung to his golden skin, adorned by the occasional flower petal and it took every ounce of your restraint to not look down. One of his hands lifted up to sweep his wet hair back, exposing his forehead to your eyes and even that part of him was exquisite. The other reached to pick up his golden goblet, and he smirked in your direction before taking a sip of his wine. God, you truly did not know where to look, eyes raking over the expanse of his naked chest.

He smirked as you finally kept your eyes glued to his face, refusing to look even past his chest. Instead you paid particular attention to the rose petals which adorned his skin.

The two of you remained locked in a silent standoff, one that you knew you could not win. As if sensing your admittance to defeat, he sipped his wine, savouring the taste and you swallowed hard watching his thick, vascular neck move with each swallow. As if hypnotised by the depths of his rich pupils, you couldn’t seem to look away as he gazed so intently at you.

Leisurely he licked his lips, seemingly had enough wine, and the action caused your eyes to drop and watch his tongue swipe over the pillows of flesh, and for a microsecond his incisor could be seen. Hook. The leer returned when he knew he had you, and his grip on his goblet accidently slipped, causing the liquid to run in rivets down his chest. But you knew vampires did not do anything by accident. Line. No, there was always an ulterior motive with vampires, an intention. He tossed his golden goblet aside, a dull thud coming from across the room where it landed on the carpet. Sinker.

“Oh dear, I seem to have spilled my wine. Clean that up for me, won’t you? The flowers too, they do wonders for my complexion but getting them off me is so bothersome.”

You nodded silently, quickly glancing around the room to find a washcloth. Where, where did his other servants keep them? You’d never been in here before, being a lowly servant yourself you’d never even been to this part of the castle before.

“Here.” He quipped, breaking your panic, and cocking an eyebrow when you gaped at the cloth that seemed to have materialised in his hand. “Are you just going to stand there?”

“N-no! Of course your grace,” you spluttered, almost tripping in your haste.

“Good.”

Now closer than ever, were able to get a much better look at your prince. But in consequence, he was also able to get a much closer look at you. At this proximity, his aura was intense, the width of his shoulders blocking the rest of the room from your view. He had no shame in his nudity, as if it were a gift to your eyes.

Frankly, it was.

Palpitations fluttered in your chest as your eyes took in the chiselled planes of muscle across his chest and abdomen, stained slightly pink from the spilled red wine. As you moved the fabric down his chest you swallowed hard, realising how far down the spill actually travelled.

Part of you ached to even lick his skin clean, secretly wishing he would ask you to. Your own cheeks pinked at the thought, at how you’d get on your knees for him in an instant. It was well known that it was even an honour to merely be degraded by him, let alone other things.

When most of the spill on his upper half was cleaned, you began plucking away at the flowers that stuck to his skin. You reached for a rose petal on his pec when Seokjin grabbed your wrist, stopping you.

“Leave it. I’m cold now, and bored. It will wash off rather easily in the water I think,” he mused, quickly turning to step back into the tub.

“I can fetch your grace something that might entertain you?”

Perhaps that was all, he had merely brought you here to remind you of your place. A simple human, an ant under his foot. The thought of getting to leave the embarrassing situation had you feeling as though you could breathe easily again, until his next words came. “You will be my entertainment. Join me.”

“Your grace! I-I,” you spluttered, cheeks warming at his brash words.

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t sure you wanted this. But I can hear the way your little heartbeat quickens when I look at you, such a desperate little slut. How in that millisecond when I hold your gaze how excited you become, how much you squirm and look away. You know, it’s rude not to stare at me.” He growled. “Now strip, or I’ll come get you myself.”

With haste, you began to unbutton your dress as to not keep him waiting, although each felt like an eternity to unfasten with him watching your fingers slip several times. Your hands shook as you peeled your clothes from your warm skin, but it was only partly out of nervousness.

The cold air of the room immediately caused your nipples to harden as your undergarments dropped to the floor and you were left bare in front of him. Seokjin’s eyes were trained intensely on the swell of your breasts, and you could have sworn you saw his tongue dart out to wet his lips for a moment.

You lowered yourself into the warm water slowly, yet you shivered at his eyes on you. Only able to stand his ogling for a few seconds you sank the rest of the way into the warm water, feeling your bare skin engulfed in the opaque water. Once again Seokjin stretched out against the side of the tub, looking like a lion sunbathing, but even at ease they were ready to attack at a moment’s notice.

“Come here.”

The water swirled around you as you inched toward him, heart palpitating at the uncertainty of it all. The temptation of teasing him crossed your mind, a hesitation, keeping you just out of his reach. Clearly this did not please him, as he tutted and lurched forward to grab you by your elbow.

“Uh uh uh, I don’t think so. Here,” he suddenly growled as you were pulled toward him, and you felt his bare chest suddenly pressed against your back. “I want to watch you, watching me. Look,”

One of the largest mirrors you’d ever seen sat opposite the tub, trimmed with gold and illuminated by at least a hundred candles. The splendour of itself was enough to leave one breathless, but the vampire whose fingertips were creeping up your side was making it much more difficult.

You arched your back, thrusting forward your decolletage as an open invitation. Surprisingly, his touch was warm, and an involuntary gasp slipped from your lips as you finally felt him cup your breasts in his hands. You watched him knead the soft mounds of flesh, the water level stopped just below your chest. Seokjin’s dark eyes drank in the sight of you, and the feather light brush of his thumbs over your nipples had you squirming all the more.

Like pleasant torture he continued to torment you with the barest of touches, not quite exerting the pressure you wanted, the brute strength you knew he possessed. It would have to be tempted from him.

“You’re like the evil queen from that fairy tale,” you taunted as he continued to stare at your reflection in the mirror. Exactly as you had predicted, Seokjin was quick to chastise you with a harsh pinch to your sensitive nipples.

“I’d watch that pretty little tongue of yours, if you want to keep it.” What you hadn’t expected, however, was the way he was able to growl.

“Are you going to ask if you’re the fairest of them all?” Came your jaunt, rising to the challenge.

Quick as a flash his hand was closing around your throat, fingers pressing into the sides cutting off any blood flow and the room around you began to spin.

“Eyes on me, keep them open.” He rumbled, his breath warm at the shell of your ear. “I’m tired of you looking away, such disrespect to your royalty.” When you pried your eyes open again you saw something glinted in his eyes, and his fingers pressed a little tighter against your throat and you whined breathlessly. “Listen to your little pulse quicken, even when I hold your fleeting life in the palm of my hand you moan like a whore. I could kill you right now and you’d probably come.”

Right as you felt blackness creeping into the edges of your vision he let go and air rushed back into your lungs. The dizziness made you slump back against him, your eyes slipping shut as your surroundings were blurred. With a disappointed tut he pinched your breasts once more, drawing a whimper from you.

“Not so tough now, are we?”

Instead of answering him, you squirmed away from his ministrations, your behind effectively grinding against the length of him, hot and heavy under the water. Every second he went unanswered his displeasure grew, the fire in his eyes only burning hotter.

“Since you can’t seem to be an obedient little slut, I suppose some discipline is in order.” Swiftly you were reminded of his vampiric strength as he stood from the water, pulling you up into his arms as he sauntered over to a chair. He took his time, dropping you before he slumped into what looked like a velvet throne. Right in front of it sat another enormous mirror – how many could one person own?

Seokjin pulled you out of your thoughts and down onto his lap, manhandling you until you lay face down, ass up. You shivered at the ticklish feeling of his fingers running up the backs of your thighs, which had broken out in goosebumps from the cold air of the room. His fingernails brushed over your rump before he grabbed each of your cheeks in his hands, kneading them before spreading them.

The feeling of your glistening folds being exposed to the cold air had you gasping, involuntarily clenching and you knew he was watching intently. Seemingly pleased by what he saw, Seokjin blew on your pussy which had you squirming harder from the strange sensation. That, however, did not please him. Your hands which had been resting in front of you were twisted behind you, one of his hands circling your wrists like iron.

“Still.” He pressed his thumb against your clenched rim, and you paused at the unfamiliar feeling. “It’s tempting, to fuck your tight little asshole. Hmm, maybe I should.” The tip of his thumb ever so slightly dipped in, but then he withdrew it to land a hard slap on your rump. He gripped the flesh in his palm, massaging it to soothe the sting and parted your thighs more. “Tempting, but no. Your pussy looks far too appetising tonight, especially with how wet you're getting. Do you like being over my knee? So eager to become my little human fucktoy.”

Three more slaps landed on your ass, each one leaving a delicious sting in its wake and your breathing grew more jagged after you finished yelping. He continued to grip the globes of flesh as your aching cunt clenched, and he paused as you shivered.

“A little cold, hm?” Seokjin teased, knowing full well what it was that caused you to shudder. “Let’s warm you up then.”

Bracing yourself for another slap, a gasp of surprise left your lips when you felt little droplets of hot wax instead. Each one had you jolting, not able to move much due to him holding you down. But you were enjoying it, he knew you were enjoying it. Your back arched off his lap, the contrast of your cold skin mixed with the warm wax had you moaning louder with each droplet. The wax was almost too hot. Almost. But it cooled quickly, and if you were going to fuck with vampires you need to be able to enjoy pain with pleasure.

“Look at how nice and warmed up you are now, and how wet. You’re such a little slut for punishment. Is that why you purposefully provoked me into doing this? So I would have to punish this desperate little cunt of yours? Look at it,” he smirked, suddenly pulling you up and turning you so you sat with your back to his chest once more. He reached forward and yanked your thighs apart, so your soaked folds were on display in the candlelight.

You just love being handled like this, like a whore. Consider yourself lucky, for I could have anyone that I please on their knees for me. So, show me how grateful you are, on your knees.”

Not wanting to displease him you quickly obliged, grateful for the soft cushioning carpet. However, it only drew more attention to the aching throb between your thighs, and the faint warmth of your sore asscheeks. Looking up from admiring the thickness of his thighs, you gasped.

In front of your face was the largest cock you had ever seen, his size was truly inhuman. He was larger than any lover you’d ever had before, his length alone put every man in the kingdom to shame. You licked your lips in a rather unsubtle manner to which he tutted.

“If you’re so desperate for it, do something,” he practically purred, one hand twisting in your hair to drag you forward. He was in no way gentle you thought as your scalp ached, but the way it had your pussy clenching - the way he knew it turned you on - certainly didn’t have you complaining.

The tip of his cock brushed your cheek, smearing a few beads of sticky precome with it and you were quick to turn your head to the side and run the length of your tongue along the throbbing vein. You chased the little drops of precome that ran down the underside of the length, lapping all the way up to the mushroom head of his cock. You moaned at the taste of him as you gave little kitten licks to his slit. His grip in your hair only tightened and you looked up at him with hooded eyes, your sopping core clenching when you saw how dark his gaze had gotten.

It was unlikely you would be able to wrap your hand around his girth, and even less likely you would be able to fit him in your mouth. But still, you were eager to at least try. The tip of his cock slipped past your lips easily, and you suckled which drew a long moan from Seokjin. He pushed on the back of your head, and you pushed back in fear at the size of him.

“Don’t worry, it will fit. Vampire precome is a bit of an aphrodisiac, now open wide for your prince,” he told you with a glint in his eye. As if his words were compelling you, your jaw laxed and his shaft eased further past your lips. Eager to please him you released your grip only to steady your hands on his delectable thighs. He cocked an eyebrow at your action, but his steely expression broke when you opened your mouth ever wider and took him all the way in.

“Fuck!” Came from his plush lips and he threw his head back, hips rocking slightly.

Surprisingly, you felt no discomfort and your gag reflex seemed almost non-existent, and you began to bob your head back and forth.

“Fucking hell…mm. You're such a good little slut,” Seokjin grunted as he began to thrust harder, the way he began to look wrecked had your cheeks warming. You swallowed around his length and he almost snarled, his grip on your scalp tightening. His cock plunged into your throat over and over, his endless precome filling your mouth with sweetness each time he pulled out so the tip rested on your tongue.

“You’re going to make me come, little human. Such a perfect mouth for- ugh - me to fuck.” He pushed in once more, pulling on your hair until your nose touched his abdomen, and you could feel your cunt weeping uncomfortably from his praise. “Look at the way your throat is bulging. You’re enjoying this too much, making such a mess on the floor.”

A small puddle had gathered beneath you, your need growing more and more, and the suddenly need for relief hit you hard. One of your hands let go of his leg to snake down your abdomen to ease some of the ache.

“Absolutely not.” He snapped, shoving himself down your throat again. “You’ve been such a good girl, don’t misbehave now. You will wait until, mfph, after I’ve come, and you will swallow every drop. I’m close.”

His grip on your hair grew brutal yet it only drew more moans from you as you had a high pain threshold. It was a beautiful sight as his thrusts faltered, the way his pillowy lips parted, the thick column of his throat flexing and his body trembling as his orgasm washed over him. Not to mention the heavenly moans he let out.

Ropes of his warm, thick release spurted to the back of your throat. It was far from unpleasant, however, nothing like the salty, almost bitter taste of human cum. Just about everything about vampires was designed to lure you in, and you moaned a little while swallowing the thick white liquid.

“Good girl,” Seokjin cooed at you as you licked your lips.

“Please, your highness. I need to come. Please make me come, it hurts.” You begged, practically whimpering at his feet. In his post orgasm bliss, he gently cupped your cheek, even stroked your hair a little with the other hand while he looked at you tenderly.

“Come sit my sweet, let me ease your pain,” he cooed as he sunk back into his chair, easily tugging you around and catching you before you stumbled on wobbly legs. “Face the mirror.” A small whimper left you as you felt the length of him pressing into your lower back as you were brought flush against his chest.

“Hmm, let’s see. I wonder if I can make you squirt. Now wouldn’t that be fun,” he growled into your ear, grinning at the way you mewled and begged. “You’ve never squirted before, have you? That pathetic human boy I know you let fuck you behind the stables always left you unsatisfied.”

Your eyes widened, alarmed that he knew such a thing. “I’ve been watching you for some time, prey are always fun to stalk. Fuck whoever said you shouldn’t play with your food, they obviously don’t know how to have fun.”

Your whole body trembled as he gripped the flesh of your thighs, hands tugging them wide open so your swollen folds were on full display. They were glistening from how wet you had gotten, your engorged clitoris pulsing from your increasing heartbeat. It was almost painful, the throbbing in your nether regions. How your skin tingled and grew hot.

Each pound of your heart thundered in your ears like a drum, the aphrodisiac spreading through your bloodstream. It was like delicious poison, and you were dying a slow but beautiful death at the hands of a deadly predator. The only cure was to draw the poison from one’s body through release, through climax. Your cure was his body, his fingers, his cock, his bite.

“Look at that,” Seokjin teased, a single finger swiping through your lips to collect your sticky juices. With a feather light touch he teased the slicked digit over your clit and you clenched helplessly at the promise of stimulation. You snapped your legs shut, trapping his hand between your thighs to antagonise him. “Keep them open” he growled into your ear, supernatural strength tearing the apart again. His hand drew away, only to come back with a sharp slap on your poor pussy. Out of instinct your thighs tried closing again, but Seokjin was quick to reprimand you again with a succession of harsh slaps. Each one made you almost jump out of his lap, but you quickly learned to force your legs to stay apart. It took a few more slaps which left your thighs trembling, but you managed.

“Good girl,” he cooed when finally, you did as you were asked. Your chest rose and fell from your heavy breathing, and his flattened fingers rubbed over your sopping pussy lips. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You shook your head, unable to muster the words. However, a near scream came from you as two of his long fingers plunged into your wet heat, which was practically screaming for relief, crooking them and seeking out your most sensitive bundle of nerves nestled inside your cunt. You needed no preparation at all, the sheer amount of slick staining the insides of your thighs a testimony to that.

“Another time I’d very much like to do this with my cock buried deep into that tight little ass of yours, sluts like you always seem to squirt more when you fuck them there. What do you think?”

Before you even had a chance to answer, his hand wrapped itself around the column of your throat, fingers pressing into the blood flow and restricting your pulse. The action left you lost for an answer, all your other senses suddenly skyrocketing because of the light headedness. At that exact moment when the room began to spin, his fingers pumped ever fasted, and mixed with the aphrodisiac that had your entire body tingling with electricity you found yourself hurtling into your first orgasm.

However, it seemed the prince was intent on finding your breaking point. A wicked smirk spread across his face as you writhed in his lap despite being held firmly down, eyes rolling back as the room spun and you felt yourself gush around his fingers with a scream.

“That’s it! Good girl, soak my fingers, c’mon. I know you can come again for me.”

His assault on your most sensitive spot didn’t stop, and your thighs trembled as he relented his grip, air filling your lungs once more. You weren’t sure if your first high even finished before a sudden overwhelming feeling of pleasure gripped you, and your bones melted as you climaxed and squirted again.

Thankfully he showed some mercy, allowing you to grind yourself on his fingers at your own pace. The last waves of your orgasm ebbed away as you moaned softly, but you were far from satisfied. No, if anything you were just getting warmed up. While his fingers had felt nice, you needed the deep feeling of his cock or you felt like you might die.

“Please. I want you, I need you to fuck me. Nothing else matters right now,” the sound of your voice was pure desperation.

“Nothing else matters?” Seokjin drawled, pushing your hair to one shoulder. “I could do anything right now if it meant I gave you what you want?”

“Yes, anything. Anything!”

The first brush of his fangs against your throat had your racing heart stopping, but he was quick to pull away.

He lifted your body like you weighed nothing, manoeuvring you with his inhuman strength. The tip of his already erect again cock brushed against your entrance between your slick, swollen folds, and he began easing in. If you weren’t already so worked up the stretch would surely have been painful, but your cunt easily took him inch by inch. He hadn’t even bottomed out before you gripped him tightly, trying to rock for some friction but he held you still.

“Look at me,” he growled in your ear, and your gaze met his in the large mirror right as he bottomed out and the tip kissed your cervix. Despite his strength you still managed to squirm somewhat, whimpering at the pleasure his cock brought. He seemed to relax his hold on you a little, allowing you more freedom to move which you quickly took advantage of.

“Oh f-fuck, Seokjin,” came your breathy whine. His face twisted in pleasure and he seemed to give in, shifting his large hands down to your hips to aid you in your grinding. Back and forth you moved, panting heavily, skin glistening in the golden light as Seokjin watched the way your soft breasts moved and your belly bulged slightly.

“Sit forward,” he half grunted, half moaned as he slumped back in the chair. His words barely registered with you until he tugged on your hips, using his strength to begin fucking you harder on his length. With a yelp at the sudden change in pace, you grabbed onto his knees and your eyes rolled back in your head, helpless to do anything but allow him to do as he pleased. “You have such pretty tits, I love watching them bounce as you take my cock so well.”

His words of praise had your toes curling, that building pleasure in your abdomen growing tenfold, and it only made you want to please him more. “I love it, I love having you fuck me like this. You can have me whenever you want!”

“How delectable you are. I ought to punish you for keeping yourself away from me. For letting others whom are not worthy sample your sweet nectar. But alas, it was only a matter of time before you gave yourself to me,” he moaned, sitting forward so his mouth was right up against the shell of your ear. “Now, your reward for being such a good girl.”

As fast as you could blink, one hand snaked up under your chin to hold you in place. His pillowy lips brushed the flesh of your neck, seeking out right where your pulse was strongest. For half a second you felt a sharp prick, terror momentarily gripping you as the tips of his fangs found their mark. Seokjin bit down into your flesh like butter, the razor-sharp incisors burying deep. However, there was no pain, only a deep warmth that bled through your neck from where he bit you. Within seconds he began ever so gently moving his hips, his cock still buried inside you brushing against your g-spot. The warmth began spreading across your whole body, melting your bones and your cunt began throbbing, an orgasm building very quickly.

“Oh- Seokjin, I-” Before you could even finish the sentence it hit all over, making every muscle in your body quake with pleasure. Thankfully he was equipped with adequate strength to hold you in place, like the perfect predator he was.

It went on and on, your muscles quivering, your cunt quaking and your little pants and gasps filling the room as he swallowed mouthfuls of blood.

“So sweet,” he gasped as he pulled away, finally giving you reprieve. “Delectable.” His plush lips were stained pink from the little drops of blood that had escaped, some even dripping down your shoulder as you twitched from the aftershocks.

His hot tongue swiped over your skin, cleaning any spots of blood that had been left. A wave of sudden nausea washed over you and you slumped forward, luckily for Seokjin’s reflexes his arms wrapped around you before you fell.

“Do you want to stop?” He whispered with a sudden tender note, hands cradling you gently when you couldn’t hold yourself up.

“No! No...please. I just need a moment...m tired,” you mumbled, eyes drooping.

“It’s normal, don’t worry. I have something that will make you feel better, here.” Gently he began easing you off his lap, his length beginning to slip out but you whined in protest. “You have to let me move princess, don’t worry. I’ll fill you up again in a moment.”

Somewhat pacified by his promise, you allowed yourself to be lifted and before you could blink you were sinking into the soft cushions of the chair. Your eyes slipped shut after Seokjin had vanished suddenly, and you heard him rummage around the room behind you.

“Here,” he murmured, and you opened your eyes to see him kneeling in front of you. His hand tenderly cupped the back of your head as he pressed a glass to your lips.

The liquid was delightfully warm, tasting of plum and spices and you hummed happily as you swallowed it down. He whispered little encouragements to you, tipping the cup when you needed until it was empty.

“Good girl. It happens to all humans after feeding, you’ll be fine in a moment.” With that he disappeared, perhaps getting himself a drink while you recovered. The potion was fairly quick to take effect, filling your tired muscles with a thrum of newfound energy. One that had your libido coming straight back from the lingering aphrodisiac in your veins.

“I can keep going,” you told him, standing with an air of determination. Seokjin was quick to rush to your side again, steadying you when your legs wobbled a little. He arched a brow in question, not quite believing you. “Please, I don’t want you to stop.”

“If you say so.” He appeared behind you, drinking in every inch of your naked skin like he was ready to devour you all over again. Seokjin hooked his arm behind your elbows, pulling you flush to him and effectively pushing your chest forward.

“You’ll have to stay on your toes, do you think you can do that little human?” His teeth grazed your earlobe as he whispered into your ear. Eagerly you nodded, standing on the balls of your feet, entire being thrumming with a newfound energy as you felt the tip of his cock brushing through your folds.

Once again he sought out your entrance, easily sinking back into your warmth and you whimpered at how deep he reached from this new angle. Immediately he set a brutal pace, loud slaps echoing about the room along with your cries and his low grunts.

“Please, harder! I don’t want you to be gentle.” Came your cry, attempting to drop down to meet each move of his pelvis. Only a feral snarl came from the vampire behind you, fulfilling your wish by now slamming himself into you.

With each thrust his hip bones dug into your ass cheeks and your breasts bounced. The thickness of his cock had you moaning like a whore each time it split your walls open, his tip kissing your cervix. The angle of his hips was expert, he was obviously an experienced lover but you didn’t expect him to be this good.

“Look at me. Who’s fucking you like this? Who?” He growled into your ear.

“Seokjin!” You wailed as he once again speared you on his length. A sharp slap to your clit had you keening, rising to your tiptoes again from the sharp stab of pleasure. “Prince Seokjin!” You hastily corrected, his slight discipline also reminding you to keep your gaze on your reflexion.

“Good girl. Such an eager little slut, so ready to serve your prince.”

“Always. I’ll always be ready and willing for you to use me as you please. Oh! I’m gonna come again!”

“Good girl. Fuck, you can really take it. Come for your prince,” he growled, hand snaking down to rub circles on your clit.

Muscles tensing you shuddered, feeling the euphoric feeling wash over you once again as he fucked you through your high. If it weren’t for him holding you up, surely your legs would have given out from how much they shook. A sudden wave of tiredness washed over you, the potion’s effect exhausted and you slumped in Seokjin’s arms.

He pulled out and you moved suddenly with a whoosh of air, soft sheets underneath your stomach. Seokjin was on you again straight away, picking right back up where he left off and parting your thighs, you moaned at the sudden stretch as he buried his cock into your cunt once again.

“M-gonna, fill you uh- up, fuck!” He panted, thrusts growing sloppy as he panted loudly on top of you. Leaving no room between your sticky bodies, he draped across you entirely, barely keeping his weight off you. It was strangely comforting, making your toes curl pleasantly in your post orgasm bliss as Seokjin shuddered above you. Heavenly moans and profanities spilled from lips as he came, warmth spilling inside you with a few last thrusts. Lazily you reached beneath you, rubbing circles into your throbbing, blood fattened nub to ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm.

Still panting, he leaned down to whisper something in your ear as you drifted off to sleep before disappearing like a shadow in the night. Spent and muscles aching, you laid on the soft sheets as the sun rose, his words finally sinking in.

“See you tomorrow night.”

#bts smut #seokjin smut #vampire seokjin #bts imagine #seokjin imagine #kim seokjin #kim seokjin smut

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

Of something beautiful, but annihilating🚬1

Warnings: nonconsensual sex, violence and abuse, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of death [other warning to be added throughout series]

This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader’s husband brings home an unexpected houseguest.

Note: So i just worked my ass off and retail is always crummy this time of year so I’m gonna escape with some sweet Arvin Russell writing.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

The spring air was warm as the breeze swept over the low fence and fluttered the tails of shirts hung across the line. You grabbed two pegs and a swathe of damp fabric and stretched it over the cord, pinning it in place before moving along. Your old machine had taken much of the day to wrangle and had even received a kick. It was decades old, an heirloom inherited with the old country house and much more clunky than the modern machines. Not many in the county had anything more than the old wringing machines.

Roy would be home soon. Your husband hated to hear about how the wringer jammed so easily and the fear that your fingers might again be bruised by the mechanism. Even so, you were certain it wouldn't last for much longer. It's rattles foretold its imminent fate. You'd be back to a bucket and board soon enough.

As you hung the last piece, Roy's oil stained overalls, you heard the putter of the truck. You picked up the woven basket and headed for the gate along the front of the house. You waved as he pulled up, tires loudly mulching the dirt, and you stopped short as he came to a jagged halt. He wasn't alone and you were stillwearing your grimy and wet apron.

Roy pushed his door open so roughly it creaked. He stepped out and gave an exaggerated stretch as he glanced across the roof of the truck and slammed the door.

"Don't forget your bag, boy," he growled at the other man as he felt around the chest pocket of his overall for his smokes. "Looks like you're too late for laundry day."

"Roy?" You unclasped the gate and opened it as Roy stomped across the gravel and lit up a smoke, "How was your day?"

You peeked over at the other man who climbed out of the truck. He wore similar overall, though they were unbuttoned over a greasy white shirt, and he was shorter and thinner than your husband. He reached back into the truck and grabbed a long military style duffel before he swung the door shut.

Your husband grumbled and blew out a mouthful of smoke.

"We have a guest?" You asked as you stayed by the gate.

"Arvin Russell," Roy flicked the ash away, "You remember I was talkin' 'bout renting out the attic."

"Um, yes," you blinked as the other man, Arvin, neared meekly. Roy had mentioned the idea once when he noticed the way his truck had started rumbling. "It'll need a good dusting."

"So you better get on that." Roy coughed. "What's for dinner?"

"Meatloaf," you answered and turned back to smile at the other man as he bowed his head and passed through the gate.

"Hello, missus," he said kindly, "Nice to meet ya. I work with your husband, says you're a fine cook."

"The one thing she can do," Roy muttered as he ambled up the steps of the porch and dropped onto the bench sat by the window. "You go grab us some bottles."

You closed the gate behind Arvin but he waited for you to precede him before going any further. He was surprisingly polite for any man who worked at the shop.

"Yes, Roy," you hid your disappointment. Those nights when Roy started drinking before dinner rarely ended well.

"Can I just have some water?" Arvin asked as he followed you onto the porch, "Please. I didn't get to my lunch today so I'm not really feeling like drinking."

"Of course," you said, "If you're hungry, I got a box of crackers and some cheese I can bring out."

"Thank you but I'd hate to spoil dinner." Arvin sat on the end of the bench and kept his bag between his feet as Roy threw away his cigarette. "Thank you both for having me."

You nodded and quickly skirted inside. You were a bit confounded by Roy's sudden burst of generosity. He rarely did anything for anyone else. To think he'd offer a room to a coworker was unlike him.

You went to the old fridge, marked with dings and dents, and wiggled the handle until it opened. You remember the day you Pa had broken the handle, he'd always promised to fix it but had only managed to make it worse. You missed him. It was easy to miss him in this old place. His wedding present to you and Roy. It was too tragic he hadn't lived long enough to see you enjoy it.

You grabbed a brown bottle then filled a tall glass from the tap. You went back to the door and opened it with your elbow. You handed Roy his beer as Arvin stood to accept his glass of water.

"Thank you," he chimed but your husband only popped the cap of his beer with his teeth and glared out at the yard.

"Well dinner is in the oven still. I'll just be finishing that before I get started in the attic." You told Roy but he only shrugged and gulped down the beer. "Let me know if you boys need anything."

"Peace and quiet," Roy snarled. "S'all I need right now."

Arvin gave a sympathetic look and traced his thumb along the side of the glass. You hid your discomfort and retreated inside. That was just Roy. He was always in a mood after work. An hour or two and he would mellow out. The beer would surely help.

🚬

When you finished supper, you called the men in to eat. Roy started his second beer as Arvin remained quiet and awkward at the table. You didn’t say much as you pondered the work still left to be done. You had to tidy the attic before the night ended and collect the laundry from the line. You would also have to clear the table and clean up the mess of your cooking.

You stood before the men finished. You scraped your untouched scraps into the dish of leftovers and placed the glass lid on it. You scoured the loaf pan as you listened to the clink of cutlery on plates and set the pots on the drying rack. You returned to the men to gather their empty dishes and Arvin thank you as Roy belched and stood with a satisfied but gruff rumble.

Arvin watched you as you tried to ignore the pity in his face. You knew your husband wasn’t the most loving or vocal, but he was yours and he worked hard. You turned away and went back to the kitchen. You finished washing the last of the glassware and dried it before stacking it in the cupboards.

As you passed through the dining room, Arvin was gone and you could hear the buzz of the radio from the front room. Roy always liked to listen to the game after he ate. Sometimes you sat with him and crocheted or read but not often.

You tiptoed upstairs and found the footstool hidden in the bottom of the linen closet. You climbed onto the step and reached up to unhook the cord of the attic door. It dangled down and you pulled it carefully as you backed off the stool and kicked it away. The steps unfolded and you barely stepped out of the way of their descent as the heavy wood thumped against the carpet.

It had been a while since you ventured up to the third floor. There was only dust and forgotten memories up there. You slowly made your way up and sneezed as you reached the top. A wall of boxes blocked the window along the front of the house and shrouded furniture sat beneath grimy sheets.

You started with the boxes. You took one and peeked under the flaps. Some old oil lamps hoarded by your father from his own parents. You awkwardly made your way back down to the second floor and placed the box at the bottom. When you had them all down, you’d take them into your father’s old room to store. Perhaps you should sort through them at last and get rid of the unneeded artifacts.

You were six boxes deep when you were startled by a shadow in the open hatch. You exclaimed and nearly dropped your armful as Arvin poked his head through and peered over at you.

“Arvin,” you gasped. “My apologies, this place is a mess.”

“Not so bad,” he climbed up and stood, “You need some help?”

“Don’t be silly, I can manage--”

“You’re right. It’s a mess,” he insisted, “A lot for just one person.”

You stared at him and gave a small smile. He was funny. He neared you and reached out for the box in your arms.

“How about this, I’ll stay on the ladder and you bring the boxes to me and I’ll take ‘em down.” He took the box gently from you, “It’ll be much quicker.”

You looked into his soft brown eyes and let him. He backed away and cautiously made his way down the ladder. You turned and grabbed another box and he reappeared through the hatch. You handed him the box of figurines and he retreated once more. You carried on and soon, the boxes were stacked high on the lower floor.

“Alright,” Arvin climbed up and dusted off his hands, “Already lookin’ better.”

He neared the old sofa against the wall and pulled off the sheet. He coughed as the dust was kicked up and it soon turned into a chuck as he waved away the cloud.

“We can keep this here,” he draped the sheet over his arm and pulled the next from the tall lamp with the glass shade, “Move this into the corner,” he continued on and peeked under a sheet before unveiling the tall shelf, “If you don’t mind, of course?”

“Not at all. We should’ve sold all this years ago.” You teetered on your heels anxiously. Every piece reminded you of your father. “There’s a cot folded up over there,” you pointed behind a hidden end table, “But that wouldn’t be much better than the floor.”

“It’ll do,” he assured you and turned to sit on the sofa. He bounced as he hugged the sheets. “This isn’t too bad.”

“Well, there’s a bed down in my pa’s room. We could try to bring it up tomorrow. If you don’t mind offerin’ a little more help.” You wrung your hands. You were never very good with strangers and Roy’s friends often weren’t much nicer than him. You were tense, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“I think I could do that,” he stood and wiggled his nose as a sneeze threatened. “You got a broom? Maybe a duster?”

“You’ve done enough, I can finish it--”

“Ma’am, I’m a guest in your home. I might be paying for the room but it doesn’t make you my maid,” he intoned, “You’ve already done more than enough. I don’t think I’ve eaten so well since before my momma died.”

“Oh, I’m… sorry,” you uttered. “I--”

“Now, don’t be sorry,” he cooed, “Nothing to be sorry for. I assume you lost your daddy if his bed is free.”

You nodded dumbly and blinked.

“Well, at least let me take these,” you reached for the sheets and he hesitated before he let you take them. You struggled to keep them balled up and hugged them against your hip as you turned back to the hatch. “I’ll bring you the broom.”

“Thank you,” he said behind you and you looked back at him as you took your first step down the ladder, “You let me know when you bring that washin’ in and I’ll help you fold.”

“You don’t have to--”

“I want to. Makes me feel a little better about stealin’ your attic,” he assured you.

You looked down and slowly descended. As your feet met the carpet, you sighed and looked around at the boxes. You couldn’t remember a time Roy had ever offered to help with anything. If it wasn’t to do with his truck, he couldn’t be bothered to lift a finger.

🚬

You were completely drained by the time you retired to your bedroom. You were still on edge, your exhaustion laced with anxiety as you unbuttoned your blouse. You sat on the side of the bed as you slowly undressed. It was still absurd to you that another person, barely more than a stranger, was living in your home. In your father’s house.

It changed your whole routine. You couldn’t help but go over it in your mind. That meant three plates, not two, for every meal, that meant the laundry basket would fill up quicker, than meant the shoes tracks in the front entrance would need to be mopped up more often. That mean you had to act like your marriage was truly happy.

You pulled on your night gown, the short sleeves tickled your upper arms as you dropped your clothes in the wicker basket on your chest of drawers. A framed photo of your parents’ wedding day sat beside it and on the shelf beside the door, was your own wedding portrait.

Three years wasn’t so long but it felt an eternity. You couldn’t quite recall when Roy had changed. When the beer had started to taint his kisses and his words. When all pretense fell away and only the man remained. The brutish country boy with the churlish demeanour.

Maybe the first day of your marriage. Maybe. You were so nervous on your wedding night that it angered him. You’d mend your dress one day, hopefully when you had a daughter of your own so you had something to promise her.

Or maybe a week after the wedding, when you broke the vase gifted to you upon your nuptials and it shattered across the floor. Roy’s booming voice and his boulder-like fists.

Maybe, maybe, maybe, a month in when the world went black with his hand on your throat and you awoke alone on the kitchen floor.

Maybe a year when your finger was dislocated by a slammed door. Maybe the next year when you couldn’t sit for the pain in your hips. Maybe the one after when he’d grown impatient for a child only to find your sheets soaked in blood.

Maybe it had always been there, from the first date, but you’d simply refused to accept it. Not you. Not Roy. You loved him and he loved you, didn’t he?

The door slammed and shook you from your sombre recollections. You looked up as Roy stumbled in. He snickered darkly as your eyes met his and his legs wobbled beneath him drunkenly.

You slid off the bed and turned to plant your elbows on the mattress. A prayer before bed, as your grandmother had taught you. Another sarcastic chuckle aimed in your direction as Roy’s stained white tee missed the basket.

“On your knees for me already,” he sat beside your elbow as he unbuckled his belt.

You couldn’t focus on your inner recitation. You could smell the alcohol on him, the stench of oil and his sweat. You clutched your hands together and cleared your throat.

“Why didn’t you call me?” You asked calmly.

He frowned and stood to shove his pants past his knees. He kicked the jeans away and fell heavily back to the bed.

“Call you?” He sneered.

“To let me know about our guest?” You wondered innocently. “I could’ve readied for him better.”

“Workin’,” he growled. “I don’t got time to be callin’ you with my head under an engine. Fuckin’ Christ.”

“There isn’t a bed in the attic.” You said.

“So. Arv’s small enough. I’ve seen him sleep on a stool.” Roy spat.

You hid your chagrin behind your hands as you pressed them to your lips.

“Why’d you bring him?”

Roy’s nostrils flared and a fist formed atop his hairy thigh. “I gotta explain to you?” He snapped. “He paid me outright and he been sleepin’ at the motel since he started.”

“Mr. Dace has a room--”

“Mr. Dace lives twice as far as we do. I did the kid a favour. He saved my ass his first day.” Roy stomped his foot. “Woulda burned down the whole garage if he hadn’t caught that leak.”

“Kid? He that young?”

“Couple years younger than you, I s’pose, maybe less,” Roy rubbed his cheeks and shook his head, “What’s it matter to you?”

“Curious,” you said quietly and closed your eyes as you rested your chin on your knuckles.

Roy was quiet. He let out a long, thick breath and the bed jolted beneath your arms.

“You finished bleeding?” He asked gruffly.

“I’m praying, Roy,” you insisted.

“How long’s it take you? I’m sure God’s heard it all before.”

“Don’t talk like that, R--”

You squeaked as he grabbed your wrist and wrenched your arms away. He rose and lifted you with him. Always a strong man, he moved you like a puppet to his will. He took your other wrist and pulled you against him.

“You know, I don’t even care if you’re bleeding.” He turned you and shoved you onto the bed. You cried out as you bounced so hard you bit your tongue.

“Roy, please, I’m tired,” you stared up at him fearfully as you pushed yourself up on your elbows. You could taste blood.

“You’re my wife. You do your duty.” He pushed his underwear down as his cock twitched. “You got energy to wash all them clothes, you can lay on your back for your husband.”

“Roy--”

“Shut up!” He shouted. “We got company. I don’t need ya keepin’ him up with your whining.”

You closed your eyes as he fell onto you. He crushed you beneath him as he tugged your skirt up harshly. He pushed your legs apart with his knee and you braced yourself for his painful intrusion. Even so long into the marriage, you had never grown used to his touch.

He retracted his hand and began to touch himself. He stroked his cock as he swore under his breath.

“Fuck. Come on.” He moved his hand quicker and rubbed his soft tip against your folds. “Open up.”

He forced his dick against your entrance and tried to push inside. He was still half-flaccid and struggled to get further than an inch. You balled your hands and sank your head into the mattress as he thrust. He fell out of you, softer than before.

You opened your eyes sat up on his knees and looked down at his limp dick. He gritted his teeth as you watched him.

“You fuckin’ bitch,” he punched your stomach as hard as he could and you wheezed as you folded in on yourself. “Can’t even keep me hard.”

“Roy--” You hissed. “I’m s--”

“One more word and you’ll be real sorry.” He pushed himself from between your legs, making certain to pinch you as he did.

He stood and turned. You barely moved out of the way before he sprawled over his side of the mattress. You held your stomach, a painful pressure lodge there, and rolled to the edge of the bed. You reached over and pulled the chain on the lamp.

As you laid back, Roy caught the back of your neck and kept you in a painful limbo.

“On the floor,” he jarred your neck as he tried to throw you off the bed. “Like the dog you are.”

You slid off the side and landed sharply on your knees. You stifled a shameful sob and lowered yourself down onto your side. You bent your knees and cushioned your head on one arm. You stared into the void beneath the bed as the frame groaned beneath Roy’s heavy body.

“Goddamn bitch,” he uttered groggily. “Fuckin’--”

His words turned to snores as he finally drowned in his bellyful of beer. You listened to his jagged, drunken breaths as you shivered on the cold wood. You closed your eyes and recalled the first night you’d slept on the floor. You’d been in much poorer shape and it had been the dead of winter.

At least, you didn’t have to sleep next to him.

#arvin russell #arvin russell x reader #dark fic #dark!fic #fic #series #the devil all the time #of something beautiful but annihilating

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needcake · 3 years

Text

whumptober 2021, day 3: taunting

The King of Northern Lusitania.

That was what his Marshal claimed to be now that he had taken the country without resistance.

France could barely conceal his disgust. The Marshal, standing by the window of a house he had confiscated from a noble family that had fled to Brazil along with the court, seemed to have forgotten for a moment that, although he had been appointed Ambassador to Portugal in the years before the invasion, he was far, far, from the succession line of the new country they would create after partitioning Portugal into three, and that this insubordination would not go unnoticed once the news of his claims reached Paris.

But this was a matter for another time. His last conversation with Spain before coming to Lisbon had left him with a persistent headache and his patience was wearing a little too thin.

“Is he here?” he limited himself to ask and the Marshal informed him that no, the man he wanted had been moved to another location after his last escape attempt. “Take me to him, then.”

He cared very little for the thoughts the Marshal was entertaining in his head as he stared at France, but the longer he went without complying to his order, the more France felt like breaking his nose.

At last a junior officer was called upon and he was taken down the street to an unmarked door, past the two soldiers posted at the entrance with their weapons on their shoulders, and up two flights of marble stairs. All the furniture and the ornaments in the house had been removed, every painting, every object on display, even the chandeliers. Of their existence, only the empty squares of faded color remained on the wallpaper.

The empty corridors echoed their footsteps and the young man guided him to a door at the far end, pulled a heavy keychain from his pocket and unlocked the door.

“I’ll have that now,” he told him and extended his hand. He hesitated, his eyes darting between France’s tight lips to the insignias in his uniform. He deposited the set of keys on France’s white gloves and stood at attention. “You can go wait downstairs now.”

He waited until the young officer had nodded and complied, his steps fading in the distance, before he breathed deeply in. The ache in his head was killing him.

The first thing he saw after he pushed the door open was Portugal’s furious green eyes, his body a shadow against the wall in the dark room.

“It’s a lovely day outside, you should open the curtains,” he said as he locked the door behind him. Portugal remained in silence, still glaring at him. France huffed a breath and walked to the window himself, throwing the curtains open and allowing light to enter the room. Portugal squinted at the sudden change in luminescence, but he soon glared at him again.

France allowed himself a small smirk.

“Do you remember when father dragged you back after your brilliant escape attempt while he was in the East? You looked at him like that too.”

“And he beat me,” Portugal said, his voice a little hoarse. From disuse, France presumed.

“Ah, yes,” he said lightly, unbuttoning his gloves. “Castile wouldn’t leave your bedside.”

“You said I deserved it.”

France held his gloves in one hand; looked at him in the eye. “You did.”

The growl that escaped his lips as he surged in his direction would have amused him were France not in such a terrible mood. Tackling him to the floor and twisting his arm behind his back took less effort now than when they were children.

He pressed his knee over his spine and Portugal stopped struggling, breathing hard into the wooden floorboards.

“You never learn, Ulterior,” he whispered above him, watching Portugal turn his head and snarl at him for the choice of name. “I’ll always win.”

“Get off me,” Portugal spat, but France only settled his weight more firmly down on him.

“You have always been too angry to be good at fighting, Portugal. Stop struggling before you hurt yourself.” He felt him breathe deeply a few times, but his body was still too coiled, still too tense for France to release him just yet.

He looked around the room and saw that it had been stripped bare of its ornaments as well. Only a few pieces of furniture remained.

“Father would have been disgusted with the way we treat our prisoners,” he commented out loud and felt Portugal shift beneath him.

“Stop calling Rome that,” Portugal said, but his voice was lower, his body less resistant.

“Why?” France asked, lowering his body over Portugal’s. “We’re sons of Rome, you and I. Us and the Italies are all that’s left.”

“Romania is still alive,” Portugal countered quietly, the fight finally draining from him, his fingers unclenching behind his back.

“That he is,” France whispered into his ear, brushed his lips against the soft cartilage and felt him shiver in his grasp. “Don’t worry, I’ll find him eventually.”

He released Portugal’s arm and felt his eyes on his back as he got to his feet and walked over to the bed.

“What was the nickname Castile had for you when we were kids?” he asked, sitting on the feather mattress, tucking his hair behind his ear. Portugal got up gingerly from the floor, dusted the knees of his simple cotton trousers.

“Lusi,” Portugal whispered, the word heavy in his mouth, laden with memories France did not know and did not care to know. He hummed, undoing the fastenings on his collar and breathing a little easier.

“Did you have a nickname for him as well?”

France followed Portugal’s eyes down his chest as he continued to undo the buttons of his uniform coat and smiled to himself.

“Dickhead,” Portugal told him and France snorted, undoing the buttons on his waistcoat next. “Yours was Asshole.”

He laughed, shrugging off his outer clothes and folding them carefully by his side, the pressure on his head somewhat subsided now that he had removed his heavy, hot uniform. Portugal’s eyes were trained on him, still standing a few feet away, still hesitant and wary.

“Come here,” he called, extending a hand towards him and watching with some amusement as Portugal’s face contorted into a frown. Huffing an impatient breath, he rose to his feet and went to him instead.

Portugal seemed somewhat smaller, dwarfed by a too big linen shirt and his simple brown cotton trousers. But his body was still the same as France remembered when he pulled him closer, his arms still strong and hardened by years at sea, his eyes still a pale shade of green when he looked at him.

“You are always so difficult,” he told him, settling his hands on the curve of his hips, watching his eyes as he looked down at France’s lips. “Always stubborn as a mule.”

His hands came to rest on his chest, neither to push him away nor to pull him closer, and France sighed, pushed his hair back over his shoulder, ghosted his fingers across his face.

“He is not going to come for you,” he said and Portugal’s eyes turned to his, the soft skin around them tightening slightly in worry. “England has what he wants now that Brazil’s ports are open to him.”

The hands on his chest gripped his shirt, but there was no more fight in them, no more blind, raging anger. “You’re lying,” Portugal whispered quietly, but his voice was thin, threadbare, doubt creeping into his words, taking hold of his thoughts.

“England doesn’t need you anymore,” he continued, petting his hair, caressing his cheekbones, his jaw, his ear. “But you already knew this, didn’t you?”

His fingers slackened, the last wall of his resistance crumbling under his words and France leaned in, brushed his lips against his. “Oh, Lusi,” he whispered, “Aren’t you tired of fighting?”

Portugal's mouth opened beneath his lips and France smiled, “Don’t you want to come home?”

Notes:

In 1807, French Marshal Jean-Andoche Junot led the French army across Spain to seize Portugal in November 30. When he reached Lisbon, however, he was able to see the tails of the ships that took the Portuguese royal family and the court across the Atlantic to Brazil, which effectively saved the Portuguese Empire from falling into Napoleon's hands, but caused them to lose the mainland territory.

After taking control of the country, Junot seized what was left of the Treasury and any wealth available that had been left behind in the escape. He also put in motion the partition of the territory as devised by Napoleon, which would divide Portugal into three, granting the Southern portion to Spain's PM, Manuel de Godoy, keeping the middle part for France itself and giving away the Northern part to the King of Etruria. Junot, however, who had been France's Ambassador to Portugal during 1804-05, decided to proclaim himself as King of Northern Lusitania. Napoleon was not amused.

As part of the agreement to help the royal family escape Napoleon, the Portuguese regent, future João VI, opened Brazil’s ports to British trade, which had suffered under Napoleon’s Continental System and US neutral policy. At the time, Portugal and her colonies were responsible for consuming around half of Britain’s exports. That trade was thus protected after being moved to Brazil, which in turn made the continental territory of Portugal redundant.

However, the partition of Portugal never took place because in May 1808, after trying to double-cross Spain and take control of the territory, the Spanish revolted and the Portuguese followed in June. In August, the British sent troops under the command of Arthur Wellesley, future Duke of Wellington, and the French were forced to leave Portugal in what would be the first of three attempts to take control of the country.

#whumptober2021 #no.3 #taunting #hetalia #fic #emotional manipulation #peninsular war #hws portugal #hws france #fraport #a wild fic appears #if you don't like france being a dick this is not for you #mild makeout

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sims2bellaswan · 3 years

Text

parasocial codependency [Hawks|Keigo Takami x Reader]

[SFW]

[TW: STALKING, SLUT SHAMING, JEALOUSY]

AO3 VERSION

Every night, your lamp stayed on. What made tonight different? [GENDER NEUTRAL READER]

You leave your light on at night. It's the lamp in the living room, if you were wondering. No one’s complaining really, certainly not the only one who noticed.

It was hard not to notice; the last set of lights to turn off in the cheaper district of apartments and you still left that last light on. It was so irresponsible of you. You watch the news, he knows you do. You know that people can fly. Maybe, you are just that dumb.

It’s okay, though, Hawks– although, he’d rather you use Keigo at this point– He gets it. You’re just ignorant, which you probably wouldn’t like to hear. You don’t think about that lamp because you don’t have to. He loves that about you.

He’s been visiting you every evening for about two weeks now. Once he finishes patrol and conveniently ends at the same street every time, he grabs dinner at the bodega and watches you make yours from the rooftop next door. The sun sets behind your building one night and it drizzles slightly the next, but he always finds himself in his spot on the retirement building across the street.

Would you think it was lame if he decorated the spot? He laughs the thought away, kicking up gravel. Tonight marks the thirteenth day. You’re late. He’s learned a lot about you recently, which is impressive. One thing he’s learned is that you either hate people or have no social life. Your weekends are spent at home, much to his pleasure, watching whatever or reading something. He honestly didn’t care what you did during the day.

It was just nice to watch you live.

He will be the last to admit that the feelings of parasocial sentimentality developed through prolonged visits, though. You silently charmed him from the way you sat so casually on the counter to the way you stood in front of your mirror, checking yourself out.

You leave your light on every night. Every night, the tabletop light in your living room stayed on, illuminating the ill-painted cream walls of low-cost apartments. Tonight, it’s off. The lamp is off and so is every other fucking light in your apartment and Keigo cannot be more pissed. He can’t quite discern why, ultimately adding fuel to the fire. Of course his mind wanders, thinking of you with some other guy.

You aren’t a whore, don’t you realize that? You should be with someone who deserves you, who can handle you in your pajamas making dinner, someone who gets that you need to play your music as loud as possible when you shower. He gets it, he gets you.

But he doesn’t get you tonight. He seethes in a pit of self-pity and jealousy, waiting for your goddamned lights to turn back on. Where could you possibly be? He’s never seen you go out, you live alone and never bring anyone home. Why are you throwing this all away?

His eyes are trained on your windows. He used to be thankful for your large windows, an open view into your bedroom and sitting area, it was like a gift. Now, he watches with disdain, waiting for your light to just momentarily flicker on. Anything.

And it does, ten minutes after his initial anger.

You’re laughing, doubled over with your arm slung over the other man’s shoulders. Clearly, you’re wasted. You can barely walk straight, neither can your companion.

Within the few seconds it takes for you to strip for the man, leading him to your bedroom, Keigo tries to calm his breathing down. A million thoughts are racing through his head. He finds that watching you, pretending this is a private show for him and only him. The other man no longer existed, his suit crumpled on the ground barely registering as an object. This is like porn to him. No more and no less, that’s the only way he can bring himself to watch without wanting to kill one or both of you.

And then you turn out the lights. That garish lamp taunts him. It casts its yellow light over your furniture, projecting long shadows onto the walls. It’s all he can see, chewing at his lip as he stares. He waits for this to finish.

You’re an idiot. The lights are out for all of five minutes and the man leaves without more than a goodbye. You’re an idiot alone and Keigo cannot bring himself to watch you further.

He can't bring himself to come back the next two days. He passes your street without a second thought, like you never existed in the first place. Honestly, he would’ve been able to forget you if that were true. He cannot sleep, cannot think. The images smolder into his brain, he wants to do something.

So, the first night he sees you again, he does.

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha x reader #yandere bnha #yandere mha #yandere x reader #keigo takami #takami keigo x reader #hawks #bnha hawks #gender neutral reader #my writing #birthday 2021 #lime #?

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alilbihh · 4 years

Text

woods&witches — knj

masterlist

pairing: namjoon x reader

summary: You think it ends with you saving a fox. That is, until you start getting love letters sent to your doorstep and little knick knacks left on your window sill.

genre: fox shifter!namjoon, witch!reader, fluff

words: 4.5k

a/n: this was meant for the bingo challenge but completely escaped its original prompt. anyway. heres shy!lovestruck!namjoon bc i love him. also no this is nOt a witch au blog idk whats wrong w me

A finch flutters onto your windowsill, and you shuffle over once you hear a tap, tap, tap on the glass. You push it open and the bird hops inside, beak leaning forward tentatively.

You take the letter. "Ah, so they sent you this time?" Or maybe the finch volunteered, you wouldn't be surprised. They are quite the gossips.

It's a soft blue envelope, and when you turn it over there's a scrawled #12 on the left side corner. You think that even if he hadn't written that, you'd know. It's easy to keep track, after all.

A maple leaf slips out when you open the envelope. You set it aside and tentatively take the letter, brush a hand over the ink. It was written by hand in messy but deliberate hand writing and it smells like chamomile and honey, like it was written under a half-moon.

You read it once then twice then three times until it feels like you've been dipped halfway underwater, until the buzzing of the midday cicadas has faded into white noise and everything is suddenly tinged blue.

The man, you deduced a while ago, tells tales of palm trees and blue ponds and red and pink frogs, of catching crabs on a stranded shore. He's writing poetry but he's not, writing reality but he's not, and you don't know how he does it, how he can make five paintings with just one phrase.

You clutch the letter to your chest, feel yourself have an out of body experience because of a not-poem. Your head whips towards the finch when it chirps suddenly, and you huff.

"Why're you still here?" You shield the letter from the bird's eyes. Its head tilts. "And don't give me that look, I know exactly what you're thinking."

The bird only gives another chirp before flying away.

You scoff out a laugh, and when you walk towards your bedside table, the drawer opens before you can even think too much about it. You glare at your walls before tucking the letter with the others, as if to stop the house from teasing you too much.

It all begins and ends on a sunny afternoon.

The tree roots whisper as you pass, as if to purposely lead you astray, but you follow them anyway. The forest is never wrong, after all.

So when you stumble against a snowy white fox lying on a field of wisteria, you're only a tad bit surprised.

"Ah, you don't want to do that," you say some time after it woke up in your home and stopped panicking. It's now looking down at your polka dot socks, then looks up sharply to stare at you. You don't think there's a way for foxes to show emotions, but you think that if there were, he'd be staring at you with a little bit of awe.

You clear your throat. "Your foot, I mean. You don't want to strain it."

It just keeps staring at you, one ear twitching a bit.

"Um." You say when it doesn't stop, "You'll be better in a few weeks time. It wasn't that serious."

The fox blink blink blinks before shaking itself off, fur spilling every which way. You take it as acknowledgement enough.

In a few minutes he's managed to sniff and inspect every piece of furniture in your home, ranging from your small couch to your droopy house plant. He trudges and limps and sometimes skips from place to place, and then becomes highly confused when you don't let him climb the kitchen table.

Yoongi appears on your window somewhere between the fox kneading at your rug and the fox trying to catch a moth with its mouth.

"Hey grump," you say to the black cat, scratching behind his ears. Yoongi's tail twitches in dismissal, but he whines when you stop petting him, anyway.

You can almost see when Yoongi's gaze settles on the fox, because when you turn to look he's frozen solid on your couch, as if hoping he can't be seen if he stays still enough. The cat gives you a look.

You raise a brow. "What? Don't look at me like that."

He keeps looking at you like that.

"I helped him over by the wisteria. His foot's a little bad, but it's nothing too bad." The fox stays curled up on your couch, digging his nails into the cushions much like a cat would. An ear twitches in your direction, as if he's sheepish but won't admit to it.

Yoongi mewls a single, drawn out mewl of acceptance. You nod nod nod, and the cat jumps down your window and disappears into the woods right when the wind starts blowing north and the sun starts climbing higher before dropping lower.

The world stills for a while as you work through your home, organizing your chipped cups and bent spoons and funny forks. The mushroom wraith on your door wiggles when you pass it by, and when the frog figurine on your counter croaks in greeting the fox nearly jumps out of its skin.

(The fox is gone by morning, right when the sun settles over the honeysuckle tumbling down your thatched roof. You try to feel for his presence, but it's overwhelmed by the snails and woodpeckers and oversized mushrooms.

You think that's when the letters started coming, perched nicely over your windowsill whenever you're not looking).

There's a man in your pond.

The carp in the water yells indignantly as the man tries to stand but tumbles, pondweed curled over his ankles as if begging him to stay. You just stare because the man tries to get up once then twice then three times, hair loose and windblown and positively drenched, twigs and pondweed in the knots.

You stare and stare until the man notices you and startles, looks away quickly before cringing and hesitatingly meeting your eyes. He lifts a hand, lowers it, lifts it again and waves. You wave back.

"Hello." You say. The man looks a little stunned, more stunned than when the carp had nipped at his feet. You point at the pond, "You're standing in my pond."

"Ah!" He startles, head whipping down like he'd forgotten all about it. "I am! In your pond, I mean. Sorry, sorry." The pondweed untangles itself mercifully, and he shuffles out of the water, toes curling into the dirt around it.

"It's okay!" You shoot him a thumbs up. He stares. "Do you want to, uh, come inside?"

So the man walks through the slim wooden trellis and diligently wipes his feet on the rug, shuffling through the door with hesitant steps. He looks a little like a painting left out too long in the rain, all ruffled hair and stiff shoulders, but pretty nonetheless.

"Would you like some tea?" You say, already grabbing the kettle from the cupboards, "It will have to have milk, though, since the cups don't like serving without."

"Okay! Tea is nice. Thank you." Then he smiles with knee-deep dimples and pinchable cheeks and something inside you kinda melts a little.

The man's name is Namjoon and his skin is tan despite it already being winter, the color of salted caramel. He's so bright you find it easier to look away, to look instead at the space around him, the shadow against the pane of his neck, the length of his-- very long legs. You'll pretend you never noticed that.

You don't talk about why he was in your pond, not really. He's already apologized to the carp, he says. You talk instead about mushroom glades and why avocados are acceptable dinner foods and his intense love for moths and his hopes for snow this year.

When Namjoon leaves it all feels a bit unprecedented. Lost souls show up on your doorstep often, always leaving after a cup of tea and a few helpful directions, but Namjoon doesn't look lost at all. Looks a little like he belongs, really.

He rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck, then sticks a hand out in offering. You shake his hand. He nods, lingers on the doorway, plays with a loose stitching of his soft green overalls.

"I'll-- be seeing you, then," he clears his throat, and you just laugh a little loosely because no, you won't. With lost souls, you never do.

Except Namjoon does return. He returns, in fact, in green baseball shorts and an open-collared shirt with sugar packets sticking out of the front pockets. He looks a bit like a dad showing up for his son's football game. Looks a little dangerous but in a harmless way, like a huge gangly bug. A six-foot stick insect hovering outside your door.

You're a little stunned. Very stunned. So stunned that Namjoon cringes, shuffles a bit on your welcome mat. It's a frog with a thought bubble that says welcome! that Namjoon has expressed his love for on multiple occasions.

"Hello," he purses his lips. "I... wanted to thank you. Again. For everything." He sucks in a breath. "Bad time? Bad time. I don't actually remember knocking-- did I knock? God, I didn't, did I? I'm so rude, I'm so sorry."

"No, no," you say once you've recovered. "You, you definitely knocked."

"Oh!" His lips form a surprised little 'o'. You're so fond. "That's good. Okay. I'll... be leaving, then."

"Um!" You interject, "You can come inside, if you want?"

So he comes inside and drinks tea and names the cactus by your windowsill Gerald and discusses his complaints on climate change and you're a little content and a lot confused, because--

Only creatures of the forest can find your house more than once.

Unless--

(That night, you knock on your own walls and glare indignantly. Say, "You led him here, didn't you?"

The walls do nothing. You think you hear a floorboard creak, though.

You stomp your feet like an overgrown child. "I don't know what you're trying to accomplish, but I'm not falling for it!"

No response. Except the wind chimes outside sing brightly, but when you look out the window there's no wind at all).

Namjoon visits once then twice then three times, always showing up unplanned and out of nowhere. He brings a pinecone first then a dandelion next, blushes and says I didn't pluck them against their will! I told them they looked pretty and they volunteered to help me.

He's so pretty it's become a little harder to hold in. He was always pretty, always smiles a bit too brightly, like he's swallowed a star and can't quite keep all the brightness to himself, but something's shifted a bit.

(You contemplate this in a mid afternoon. As in: whisper-screaming to the ceiling for a while. And then whisper-screaming some more when Yoongi walks directly across your face.

"You're a monster," you inform him.

He digs his tiny monster-claws into your stomach.)

One day, you learn the man is weirdly good at knitting. You learn he has a pretty solid grasp on quantum physics. You learn that when he laughs it's a little hah! under his breath, and when he really laughs it turns sideways and belly-up, pitching into something that could almost be defined as a giggle. You learn that you need to stop staring.

Another day, Namjoon sits in the corner of your couch, curled up reading a book he'd picked up from the next village over. It's small but very thick with what could only be very small letters, because he's squinting a bit as he reads. It's vastly endearing.

Another day, he makes cheesy bread in your toaster and felt bad about it for the next three weeks. Which is also the amount of time it took for you to get all the cheese out.

Everything's great.

Today, though, you're walking through the forest alone. The forest doesn't guide you, not really, maybe because it knows you're walking on your own terms.

The forest is noisy with the sounds of birds calling and trees growing and little things skipping here and there through the undergrowth. Your shoes are so muddy you don't really care for how much worse they get, and they squelch when your heels sink into puddles and spongy moss.

You walk and walk until you come across a clearing, a bird feeder propped neatly over a tree branch. A sparrow squawks when it sees you.

"Hello," you say in greeting, and the tree with the bird feeder sighs, the wind blowing and carrying the sound.

A tree root on the ground grabs a fistful of dirt and promptly flings it onto your knees. You shriek indignantly.

You have a lot to figure out, the tree echoes because of course it does. It has a history of saying things vaguely and hoping you'll understand.

"I don't understand," you say out loud.

It flings more dirt onto your knees. You step back protectively, "Okay, okay! I get it!"

One, two. Four clouds in the sky, for now, it says at last, and you're a bit afraid of prying, so you just accept what it says as fact and move on, say one last goodbye to the bluetit that flutters onto the bird feeder.

It starts raining not long after that, when more than four clouds settle over the evening sun, makes it a bit harder to maneuver through the woods. You walk based on feeling, a hand brushing over the tree trunks, silently cursing the tree.

Namjoon is already waiting when you arrive home, hurries forward when he spots you through the trees, holding an umbrella up high.

And it's-- sweet. Just a really sweet thing to do, really considerate. He could have waited inside, in the warmth and shelter, but instead he's walking through puddles to meet you halfway with an umbrella.

He looks a little funny when he stops in front of you, hair disheveled and sticking up in random places, eyes all worried and sullen. He looks like a goose.

"You look like a goose," you say out loud with a little laugh, "I'm already wet though, so there's not much point in this, you know?"

Namjoon's smile is a bit dopey, a bit sloppy at the edges. "But there's not many trees to shield you, from this point on." He says, "Let's-- go inside?"

So you go inside, the house already setting the fireplace with its never-ending firewood, the frog figurine croaking and the wind chimes singing and everything feels a little right. A little more homey.

"Did you find your way back easily?" Namjoon says later, hands cupping his tea mug as he sheepishly adds, "I know this is your-- home, obviously, I don't wanna just assume anything, but-- For me, it's a bit harder to navigate when it rains like this. Fogs my senses and all," he clears his throat.

You purse your lips to keep from smiling, "Do you know how a wood witch works, Namjoon?" You continue when he shakes his head, "A wood witch is the one who planted the first seed that sprouted the first tree that grew the first forest," you say, half-chanting it, cite it like a rhyme long forgotten.

He looks a bit awe-struck. A lot awe-struck. Says, "Oh." And that's that.

You add, sheepish, "It's really not much. I'm not as powerful as other wood witches, but I am grateful to the woods." You hum, "They gave me this cottage. They gave me who I am, really."

"Oh." Namjoon says. "Oh." He stares and stares, open mouthed and in awe and sort of dazed but pretty, pretty. His gaze trails over the room once before settling back on you, says, "You're all the beauty in the world."

And the world-- stills, maybe-- balanced atop a drop of nectar.

You whisper a small, delighted "Oh." And that's that.

Namjoon somehow manages to drag you outside the woods.

You're being dragged through busy streets, cars and crowds and carriages that boggle your senses. The difference between the village and the woods is astounding. (Not that you've never been to nearby cities or villages-- sometimes you crave poptarts and there's nothing you can do about it-- but it's been a while since you've walked into the very heart of it).

You might be a wood witch, but Namjoon is the one who looks a little — lost, outside the woods.

"This is my favorite corner cafe," he admits proudly, "Um, if Seokjin-hyung says anything, please be aware I'm not associated with him."

"Got it." You like this Seokjin guy already.

Taylor Swift is blasting through the speakers when you walk inside, a broad shouldered man swaying from side to side behind the counter as he pours milk into a cup. Once his eyes land on Namjoon he positively grins.

"Namjoon, my man!" He belts out a particularly impressive high note as Namjoon approaches him, but no one around seems at all fazed. "It's been so long!"

"I've been here last week, hyung." Namjoon says but he seems a bit happy to be missed, sheepishly ducking his head.

"That's too long. You should visit more often, it's great! I get free coffee here and don't have to walk through muddy paths and ominous sounds to visit you."

"It's not free though?" Namjoon frowns, "You may own the shop but you're the one who buys all the coffee in the first place."

The man behind the counter makes a noise that's too distorted to understand. "If I wanted someone to tear apart my ideas with logic I'd talk to Yoongi, you're both insufferable."

You want to interject but at the same time don't. You get so absorbed in your own thoughts you almost don't notice when they mention a Yoongi. Huh.

"Oh, you know Yoongi? The cat?" You blink when two sets of eyes settle on you.

"Ah, yes. Yoongi." The man you've now established has to be Seokjin sighs, resting a chin over his palm, "The devious fiend. The pest of the nest. The gremlin goblin."

"Do you ever think before you speak."

"I do! I thought of those words and then I said them."

Namjoon sighs and none of them elaborate any further, but you decide not to pry. You can always just ask Yoongi, anyway.

You both sit in a booth in the far corner where light reflects onto it perfectly but not in an overwhelming way, just enough to be warm and comforting. Seokjin pads over with your drink and Namjoon's latte and shoots excessive finger guns as he leaves, and Namjoon looks a bit like he's refraining from apologizing on his behalf.

Namjoon doodles on napkins and talks like he's reciting a far off poem, except he's talking about what should be the correct pronunciation of pickles and you're kinda maybe really hopelessly endeared.

"Do you think I should paint my nails?" He's saying, closely inspecting his nibbled nails, "Maybe it will make me stop biting my nails."

"Have you thought of green?"

He hums delightedly, "Green! I love green. I'm thinking pink though, since gender norms are a social construct and pink is just pretty in general."

"You'll look like a pretty little winter fairy!" You grin. He flushes pink, too.

Then when you get up to order another drink he stands quick, as if intending to order it for you, but you're already grinning and skipping to the counter and when you turn to look at him he's slowly sitting back down, defeated.

You're maybe smiling too hard when Seokjin walks to take your order. "Ah, Y/n-ssi! How may I help you, my gentle woodland elf?"

"Can I just have the same thing, please?" You say and he hums, walking mechanically towards his cabinets.

Then after staring dazedly at the separate christmas mugs and cinnamon buns and droopy plants, you're looking around when you spot a box by the back counter that looks like an awful lot like a letter slot, a stack of envelopes sitting neatly on top. Oh.

"What's that for?" You gesture towards the box, and Seokjin turns away from the coffee grinder to smile something a little gentle. A little secretive.

"We're a letter shop too, you know?" He looks like he's suppressing a sort of devious smile he doesn't want you to see, "We deliver letters on the writer’s behalf, so the sender stays anonymous."

Your organs twist and melt together all at once. You mumble a small "Oh" and that's that.

Then when you leave Seokjin winks before sending you both off, the man waving boisterously and maybe obnoxiously but you're immensely endeared, wave back until the shop is out of sight and Namjoon is sufficiently embarrassed.

You predictably invite Namjoon inside after you arrive home, deciding that soup after coffee doesn't sound too bad. So you watch as the fireflies do somersaults and the moths hover over lamps as you both go for seconds and then for thirds and you don't say much, maybe say nothing at all, but that's okay, too.

The soup signals a change, you think. Either

1) You are in love with Namjoon and need to tell him.

2) You are in love with soup and need to seek help.

So you walk through the forest.

Namjoon is at home, you know, but you feel that talking to Namjoon about your possible love for Namjoon is a bit counterproductive, so you walk through the forest instead.

Everyone is still adjusting to last night's downpour, the floors muddy and the leaves droopy and everything smelling like wet earth. You walk but you're hovering a few inches off the ground, silently thank the forest for its kindness.

You walk through the forest again the next day, think back to the tree with the bird feeder and think that maybe he wasn't so vague after all. Just wish that he could tell you what to do next.

It's easier to listen to a tree's vague advice than it is to follow through with it, you think, until a few weeks later, when the universe decides you need a little push. A big push. The biggest push.

Namjoon has been visiting consistently for the past month or so, sometimes staying over and sometimes staying just before nightfall, but for maybe a week you haven't heard of him at all. He's disappeared without a trace.

The forest guides you this time, patches of sunlight shining through trees as you follow. You think you hear the shrill argument between a finch and a jay on the treetops as you navigate through mushroom patches and mossy rocks.

It's the field of wisteria. You're in the field of wisteria when you find a small burrow, a little home for a woodland creature.

When you turn, you see-- Namjoon. Namjoon, eyes widened in horror, a strangled sound breaking free from his throat. Two white fox ears standing ramrod straight on his head.

You clear your throat. Say, "Hi, Namjoon."

He shrieks.

A finch flutters onto the bird feeder, eyes twinkling, "Guys, you will not believe what I just found out--"

"We know," the jay says.

"We know," the bluetit says.

"We know," the sparrow says.

Even Yoongi mewls from a higher tree branch.

The finch squawks, gossip stolen from right under its wing, "How on Earth did you all know?"

"The forest made the house bigger," Yoongi drawls, tail swishing here and there, "And we all helped deliver the letters."

"Different from someone, we can actually keep secrets!" Says the jay, chest puffed proudly, ignoring the offended squeals from the finch.

"You know, it was actually kind of obvious."

You hum from beside Namjoon, his arm draped over the back of the couch inches away from dropping onto your shoulder. He wants to tug you closer, comb a hand through your hair, but the mere thought has his face burning and ears threatening to pop out at the stress. He's kissed you before, dozens of times, for many reasons and for no reason at all, but it all still feels a little nerve wrecking, like one push will have you burst at the seams.

(Which, frankly, is ridiculous-- you're the strongest person he knows, but-- but.)

"What is?" He says to distract himself.

"The letters stopped coming after you started showing up, and you literally took me to a letter shop." You falter and add, "And just.. the way you say things, it sounds like how you sound when you write. I don't know if I'm making sense, but it's-- nice." You explain, a hint of affection on your voice.

That has nothing to do with being a fox shifter and everything to do with you sitting so prettily next to him, smelling like Ilsan sunshine and kept promises and damp earth, like the forest itself.

"Hmm," he hums, a hand settling on your thigh, finally gathering the courage to drop his arm onto your shoulder--

"Namjoon, you really don't have to hesitate for this kind of stuff." You say, turning to look at him with a grin. His face burns as he clears his throat pointedly, crossing one leg over the other as he finally drops an arm over your shoulder.

"M'sorry," he mumbles.

"Don't be," You press a kiss to his chin, "And you better kiss me properly this instant, because it seems you still think that crocs are acceptable footwear. I'm gonna come to my senses any second now."

"Please don't," he says, a little wild. Then he's moving, nose brushing over your cheek, and then— and then—

A hand curling softly over your cheek, a little giggle, and his lips pressing gently over your own. Something a bit real. Un-takeback-able. You taste a lot like the poetry he writes, still writes, like you're pressing the wonders of the world to his lips, like he's skimming the universe with his hands.

(Once upon a time, you saved a fox lying in a field of wisteria.

The rest of the story is told in open envelopes, messages left for the moon to see.)

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