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toxicanonymity · 11 months

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Aisle 39. Ben's Hardware

5250 words / Ben Solo x Rey

Warnings: I8+ mdni. Sexual tension, dubcon (via uninformed use of force connection but she wants it), dry humping. I 🖤 Dry Humping. Hardware Store AU but more than meets the eye.

A/N: posting my first fic in any fandom since I never posted it on Tumblr aside from the AO3 link and Tumblr is home now 🖤. I'm resisting the urge to improve it 😅 I'm not even gonna reread before posting. It was originally reader insert but @dark-scape translated to reylo. Lmk if you want the reader insert version instead and that can be arranged.

Rey visually undresses him. He inhales through his strong nose, meets her gaze, and cocks an eyebrow: “Now that’s an idea." He sinks all the way back into the cushions, his huge palms on his thighs, as if to take in the moment with a subtle, satisfied smile. He then abruptly sits back up and starts unbuttoning his shirt. As if on command.

Rey drives through the streets of Jakku. It's a chilly day, but bright for mid December. The sun is in her eyes, but the drive isn't long enough to commit to finding her sunglasses. As she turns into a parking lot, she sees the cafe next door is open and realizes it will be the perfect day to grab her favorite nutmeg butternut squash soup with their signature green tea bread if she can make it out of the hardware store before the lunch rush really picks up. This is a rare opportunity because the cafe's hours are aligned to typical office job hours when she’s normally across town.

Rumor has it the hardware store is locally-owned now, and she wonders how much it’s changed. She's taken a vacation day to finish some holiday shopping and errands, and thought of an easy home improvement project last night to spruce up Finn and Poe’s house while she housesits and takes care of their cat Bebe. She wants to fix the dimmer for the light above their kitchen table. The knob has been missing for awhile now, and even when you twist the naked peg, the lights don't dim, so she assumes the bulbs aren’t the right kind. She figures she can fix this with a new plastic knob, a 4-pack of dimmable LED lights, and five minutes of labor. She can finish it off with a little red bow on the new dial. This will be a nice surprise and will also give her an excuse to procrastinate her other errands.

Turns out, not much has changed. She clip-clops through the sliding doors in her warmest boots and still sees orange aprons with names hand-written in sharpie. She immediately locates the light bulbs and spends a few minutes longer than necessary deciding which pack to get. She looks at her phone and sees she has about ten minutes until the lunch rush, so it's time to find the other item she needs, the knob.

She looks up and sees a worker. He's wearing a dark gray jacket over his apron, and what looks like a lighter gray hoodie under it. It isn’t that cold in here, she thinks . She almost leaves him alone, but something on his apron catches her eye. She can't see the name, but barely sees the edge of an expertly doodled death star. Bold choice.

He's got a nice head of dark hair, chin length, tapered around his face, but out of the way enough to see his eyes are brown. He runs his hand through his hair over the top of his crown as though slicking it back, then some of the strands fall back down. His face is a mix of heart and square shaped with a masculine jaw and strong nose. He has the stubble of a mustache and soul patch but no beard.

He has beauty marks, so many. How many? Are they just on his face or all over? He has an enviously clear complexion and looks like he tans easily. He's kind of tall, but not looming, maybe because his head is bowed slightly as he lifts a crate of lightbulb boxes and begins to unpack it. He seems athletic, hard to tell with what he's wearing. He has a youthful vibe but isn't exactly boyish.

He carries himself like he knows more or less what he's doing, but doesn't take the job too seriously. Rey imagines he wouldn't be the best candidate to tell her how to do a project, but he must know the aisles at least. She doesn't like to be a bother, but hopes it's an easy enough question, and he's standing right there. He can tell she’s about to ask him something and looks up. The whites of his eyes are clear and sparkly. Rey wonders if hers would be like that if she blinked more, which leads to her unintentionally fluttering her lashes.

She finally says, close to a whisper, “Can I ask you something?” I asked… if I can ask him something. She groans inwardly.

She isn’t prepared for the gentle baritone voice he responds with, "Yeah. Sure."

"Uh, where can I find the light switches and dimmers?"

"AISLE 39. I think. Here, I'll show you." He sounds about twice as old as he looks. Those few words he speaks are enough to flip a switch in Rey. Her heart is melting at the same time her mind is racing. She can't tell for sure because he’s so bundled up, but she imagines he has strong arms and is in great shape based on the vascularity of his hands as he holds his barcode reader. He's working in the middle of the school day so he's got to be at least 18, not that he looks any younger, but Rey tends to think in worst case scenarios. Realistically, she would peg him for mid-twenties, but his voice sounds at least two decades older.

He walks her to aisle 39 and stops. She thanks him for his help, and as she turns to walk in the direction he pointed, she realizes she’s slightly blushing and she’s been silent. She doesn't want her shyness to come off as cold, so she makes eye contact and lets a little smile sprout from the left corner of her mouth across her lips, small but beaming. She hopes it doesn't come off as a smirk or make him self conscious. She can't tell whether he's the self conscious type.

She figures she can find the item herself from here, and doesn't think to ask him about the specific product. She wanders nearly all the way down the aisle, but after several minutes of searching (albeit distractedly), Rey is relieved to see him come back with another customer. He's helping a man find a specific thing, not a whole aisle. She’s jealous, even though it was her own fault not to ask. She hopes he sticks around and asks her if she found everything okay, but when he's done with the other customer it seems like he's about to leave.

She quickly approaches him. “Can I- can I ask for your help again?” Asking to ask again. Do I always sound this ridiculous? She tells him about the dimmer she’s looking for, which is apparently called a rotary switch.

To her surprise and delight, he talks far more than he needs to about rotary switches. His dark velvet voice is lulling Rey half into a fantasy while she struggles to continue listening to his words. He repeats almost every word she says back to him coolly and casually. And these aren't complicated concepts. She isn’t sure if he's practicing an active listening technique from sales training or is simply aware of his effect on women. Or his effect on her. She stands inches from him and looks into his eyes. She wonders to what extent her white cheeks have bloomed into roses under her freckles and given her away.

"You need a dimmer?" He looks her in the eyes, but she’s transfixed on every flex of his jaw and twitch of his lip as he talks.

"Yes, but just the knob, not the whole thing,” she says.

He nods thoughtfully then confirms, "So you just need the plastic part?"

“Right, there’s still a stick you can use to turn it, but it’s naked,” Rey confirms. She pulls her phone out of her back pocket to show him what kind of set-up the panel has and what part she needs.

"So on the panel there's an up-down switch, and a rotary dimmer."

“Yeah." She shows him the knob on the store's app and says, "I think the dimmer part is in stock.”

He replies "Oh, it says aisle 2?" He looks in that direction like he’s trying to remember what’s in aisle 2. He must be new.

"No, we’re in the right aisle. It's wrong on the preview page, but if you click into it you can see," she explains.

"Oh, ok. This is what you need though?" He locks eyes with Rey.

Just like that, she’s imagining him taking off his apron and hoodie at the end of the day, revealing meaty biceps that want to burst out of a black, soft washed t-shirt. Running his large hand through his hair. Flexing those beautiful arms as he peels off the shirt. A smooth torso with hard pecs, scant chest hair. At the thought of this, the left half of her bottom lip starts to creep under her left front teeth, and he cracks a smile for the first time, from the right side of his mouth, almost like a mirror image to Rey’s. His teeth are pretty but unassuming. They're close to white and not overly straight.

Her cheeks grow warmer and she looks away, responding to his question with a slight nod, which she hopes doesn’t read as hesitant, before resuming eye contact. “Yeah,” she quietly confirms.

"But you don't need the regular switch, right?" He speaks with a relaxed beat, not rushing the conversation to its end.

"Uh-huh."

He's speaking low and soft and looks back and forth between Rey’s eyes, not at the screen they’re both supposedly studying. "You just need the dimmer."

"Yeah." She feels like this is being drawn out to the point of overkill, but she’s not complaining.

"And you only need the plastic part." Every time he speaks is like music.

"Yeah," she confirms, barely audible, with a smile.

He continues to search her eyes and she repeats, "Yeah."

For a brief moment, he seems to gaze at Rey as lustily as she knows she is looking at him before he gathers his thoughts. She feels self conscious and suspects by the amount that he’s talking he must know the spellbinding effect his voice has on her. But if that's the case, she supposes there’s no harm that could come from him knowing it.

"Okay, let’s go over here," he says as he leads her back to where she started at the front of the aisle. "I think I see it.” He crouches down to get something from the bottom shelf.

"That’s it!" Rey says with a grin.

She feels bad for not crouching down with him. She’s always self conscious of making people do too much work, but then she also doesn’t want to make it awkward by taking over. So it's not that she expects him to serve her, she’s just frozen. He starts to pull the small product off the metal rods. It's the exact one she’d shown him on her phone, but she notices a better color next to it. Rey squats down and as she looks at the package to the right of the one he's holding, he almost looks disappointed that he didn't pick the exact unit she needed.

She says, "This one is even better, it'll match the old yellowed white." As she slides the package toward her, her right thumb almost imperceptibly brushes his left hand which is still holding the other package. She hasn’t even thought about his package yet, but the lightest brush of his skin is enough to short Rey’s circuits. She gets nervous and stands up, thanks him twice with a genuine smile and that's all she can do.

"No problem," he says, and that's all. As Rey watches him walk away, she feels an odd desperation to hear his voice again. She thinks about making up another question and recording him with an app. Is that creepy? It’s a little creepy, but not full-blown creepy, right? It isn't an option to never hear his voice again. She briefly glances around and he's nowhere in sight. She gets a hold of herself and makes her way to the self checkout line and pays.

Scanning the parking lot as she leaves, Rey wonders which car is his. When she gets to her car, she realizes she doesn’t have her keys. She sheepishly walks back inside and grabs her keys and receipt from the self-checkout terminal she just used. She looks at the receipt - “Ben’s Hardware”. So it did change ownership. She feels someone watching her from the aisle straight ahead, but tries to play it cool. She smiles and shakes her head in disbelief as she turns around and leaves, heart pounding.

Rey forgets all about the soup she was going to get and drives on autopilot to the house to install the dimmer and bulbs. What was that back there? When did I become so shy? It’s been a long time since she’s felt a visceral longing for someone, too. She can feel the animal inside of her awakening from a years-long slumber. She isn’t worried about it, she welcomes it. It’s tame. She has the maturity and experience to stay in control.

She pulls into the broken driveway and parks under the carport. Bebe runs to greet her and Rey bends down to pet her when she opens the car door. This should be an easy but impactful little project. She enters the kitchen, and takes the rotary dial out, dismissing a ridiculous passing thought that she should have bought the white one, too, because he touched it. She tears the packaging open and holds the off-white plastic rotary dial in her hand, smiling as she remembers all the ways he described it.

She raises the cream plastic dial to the light switch panel and glances at its underside, confirming it’s compatible. The unsheathed rotary peg juts out from the panel in anticipation. She holds the dial by its outer edge, aligning its hole with the peg, and gently eases the peg inside. The dial slides all the way on and snaps into place. It sticks out a little far from the wall, but it works. Then she unscrews the light bulbs in the cheap chandelier one by one and replaces them with the dimmable ones she bought.

Finally, the moment of truth - she presses the rotary dial, which turns on the lights, but when she rotates the dimmer, it dims nothing. The dimmer wiring itself might not be LED compatible. Of course. It looks like she’ll have to go back to the store, but not today. She does her shopping and begrudgingly runs errands, and finishes off her day with a warm cup of rooibos.

When she gets in bed, her mind drifts back to Him. She’s dying to hear his voice again. He was so calm, aloof, but somehow radiating power. She interprets it as sexual energy, but she wonders if she’s just seeing what she wants to see. To keep his voice in her mind, she imagines him narrating, “So. This is your bed… we’re going to use an extra blanket tonight, because it’s cold.” She feels ridiculous. But when she drifts off to sleep, there he is.

***

Rey is in a living room, but not hers. It’s a subtle mid-century style with huge windows and modern touches. It’s dimly lit with a fire roaring behind a glass. He’s slouched on a stool at a wet bar, drinking something on the rocks. He’s wearing black slacks, a form-fitting charcoal button-up shirt, untucked, with the cuffs unbuttoned. He has one foot on a rung of the stool and another with its heel on the ground as he looks at his glass.

He looks at Rey and puts down the glass. “Drink?” he asks, standing up to go around the other side of the bar. Rey watches him. “Whisky? Wine? Water?” he asks, while filling a glass of water. “I’m fine,” she replies. He puts the glass of water down on the smooth granite in front of a second stool that’s still tucked under the bar. As he walks out from behind the bar, he lets his fingers graze the leather seat of the closest stool. Rey notices he’s shoeless, wearing black and gray argyle socks. Why is he so quiet?

Right on cue, he says, “Well, you’re here. What do you want to do?” It’s so vivid. Rey is frozen and says nothing. Her heartbeat quickens. He paces patiently. There’s a teal sectional facing the fireplace. The living room has soft carpet that feels new under her bare feet. He walks across the living room, crossing into It a breakfast nook with an oak table. Behind the kitchen table, he reaches for the wall and lightly touches a conspicuously cheap looking dial that dims the room further. He comes back toward Rey, and pauses between the breakfast nook and living room. There’s a cabinet separating the spaces, about the same height as the kitchen table. It has a record player and a box of records sitting on top of it.

He approaches the record cabinet, which is about hip height to him. He’s facing Rey, with the cabinet and the entire living room in between them. With a casual stretch of one leg, he spreads his feet to lower himself a little and look at the records. He rolls up his sleeves, glancing up at her with his tan forearms flexing. He thumbs through the vinyl records, which appear to have no words on the covers. He has his head down, his hair has fallen slightly in his face, and he’s glancing up at Rey every few seconds as he thumbs through the box.

He starts reading out the names of records, and her butterflies intensify at the low rumble of his voice. “Led Zeppelin III,” “Some Girls,” “Get Behind Me Satan,” “Ocean’s 11,” “Travis” “John Wick 2” The foliage outside rustles gently against the window. The next time he looks up at her, he doesn't look back down. It’s an expectant gaze as though to see if the sound of his voice was effective. She squirms a little and blushes. He holds her gaze, squints slightly, and smiles a little. He’s finished going through the records. He doesn’t put anything on the record player, but a song she likes starts playing anyway. Think, by Kaleida.

He gives Rey a mischievous, inquisitive look, and runs his hand through his hair as he walks over to the sectional. He takes a seat and hinges forward at the hip, putting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together. She admires the shape of his forearms. He raises his clasped hands upright and sets his chin on them playfully, his biceps straining his sleeves as he meets her eyes. He says, “Well, here we are at my place,” which she doubts. Rey doesn’t know what she expects his place is like in reality, but it isn’t this refined. He chuckles, removing his elbows from his knees and resuming a more grown-up posture. With arched brows and an otherwise straight face, he says, “Really.” His brows relax again. “What do you feel like doing?” His voice floods every inch of her body with a yearning to be touched.

She doesn’t know how to answer him. She doesn’t know how she got there or what’s going on, but the combination of his voice, eye contact, and arms are enough for Rey to begin visually undressing him. He inhales through his strong nose, meets her gaze, and cocks an eyebrow: “Now that’s an idea." He sinks all the way back into the cushions, his palms on his thighs, as if to take in the moment with a subtle, satisfied smile. He then abruptly sits back up and starts unbuttoning his shirt. As if on command. . . Holy shit, Rey thinks. She realizes this is a dream. She’s lucid. It’s like a 5-d game where she can feel everything. In theory, she can do whatever she wants. What she really wants at this moment is to straddle him.

He glances down between his legs and coolly says, “sit anywhere you want.” She feels observed, even though he isn’t real. She walks over to the sectional and perches next to him on the edge of its velvet cushion. She feel herself getting wet. She’s wearing a gray stretch miniskirt–something she wouldn’t have picked out for herself–black leggings, and a green cardigan with no undershirt. He finishes unbuttoning his shirt and discards it on the floor. She sees exactly what she’d pictured earlier - a strong physique, his lightly bronzed arms straining against a soft washed t-shirt. “What’s your name,” he asks, and she feel a warmth growing between her legs. She tells him, “Rey.” “Rey,” he repeats, and she fruitlessly responds, “What’s yours?”

He sighs and gazes around wistfully, “Her name is Rey.” Then his eyes are back on her. He places a large hand softly on her knee. Electrified, she reciprocates. It’s not real, she reminds herself. She can do anything. The guy from the store will never know. She dares to run her hand a few inches up his quad and give his muscle a light squeeze. He exhales with the slightest little groan, “yeah,” and moves his hand to the small of back to urge her closer. She’s sitting next to him but facing him now, left leg folded under her, working her right hand up his quad.

The expanse of his thigh dwarfs her pale fingers on his black pants as she leans forward and lets her heel nestle between her legs to relieve some tension. A tsunami of tingling deep inside her spreads through her breasts. She grips his thigh for support, and lifts herself just barely, intending to bring the inner crook of one knee up over his closest leg in a cuddly way while remaining seated on the couch. A tent in his pants catches her eye and her skin starts to burn with urgency. If she moves too quickly, she wonders if she could startle herself awake.

As Rey raises her leg, he brings his far hand to it, gently coaxing her to move all the way onto his lap. Her skirt rides up over her ass as she follows his lead. He seizes one buttock in each hand, gives them a gentle squeeze, and takes a deep breath. She is overcome with arousal and takes her own deep breath, shuddering and blinking slowly as she exhales. Her legs are now spread wide open straddling his lap, but she’s hovering and hasn’t put her weight on him yet. Her head is a little higher than his in this position. He bows his head and nuzzles his nose into her cardigan between her breasts, closing his eyes and taking in her scent.

Rey’s modest chest is heaving against his face and he cradles her with both arms as she breathes. She places her hands gently on his shoulders, and slowly moves them inward to fondle the hair at the nape of his neck. She twirls a lock around her finger contemplatively, but she’s still hovering. His arms are under hers with his face still in her sweater. He drags his nose up to her neck and she feels her cardigan unbutton, exposing a lace bra, which is fastened in the front. He looks up at her and reiterates in an intimate whisper, “you can sit anywhere you want.”

Rey could tell from his breathing what would await her in his lap. Her leggings were already soaked. One by one, she scooted her knees closer to the back of the couch on either side of his expansive torso and let her weight down. She is now truly straddling him, her inner thighs and the intimate seam of her warm, moist leggings fully embracing his arousal. Her wetness spread through her leggings and into his pants. His lumber swells against her, pulsing into her aching nub. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Right here.” She leans forward to feel his full length, which spans from her privates to her belly button as he thrusts against her.

Over the course of a few blissful seconds, she feels his erection press harder against her, slide upward, then come back down, and repeat. His mouth finds her neck, then her mouth. She accept his lips hungrily and grinds back in rhythm. Her lips pull away as pleasure shoots through her gut and breasts. She leans her head back and gasps. He moves his way back down to her heart, nuzzling his nose along her neck then planting a kiss on her collar bone, another kiss on her breast.

Then his teeth lightly pinch her skin as they find the front of her bra. He looks up at her as the clasp flies open and her breasts are free. Her hard nipples are framed loosely by her dangling bra and the top half of her cardigan which is still buttoned, only at the bottom. She’s still wearing leggings, but his cock feels too good to leave it for even one moment to undress further. She continues to slowly grind against him as he moves one hand to her breast, keeping the other behind her for support. He palms one breast, lightly at first, grazing her nipple with the heel of his palm, then softly cups the whole breast, enveloping it in his large hand as he continues to slowly thrust into her warmth He uses his free hand to bring her close enough to kiss her other breast.

Rey is burning up now. He undoes the last two buttons of her cardigan and she lets it fall off her shoulders, discarding her bra at the same time. She reaches down to the hem of his shirt and slides four curled fingers underneath it. He helps her take it off, and she takes in the sight of his shredded torso. His right pec has a scar. She traces it with her thumb. His pecs are so hard. As she explores him, they continue grinding, then he gives a more emphatic thrust, like his cock cannot physically get close enough to her. She reaches between their loins and strokes his arousal through his pants, tracing the outline of his cock in detail. His pants are damp and shiny from her leggings and with a wetter spot of his own.

Rey needs him badly. He isn’t wearing a belt. She frantically searches for his button and zipper and carefully frees him. She holds, and beholds, the glorious, veiny shaft that lands in her hand. She savors the feeling of its soft skin as it throbs in her hand. “You. . . are a vision,” he murmurs into her chest, which is exactly what she was thinking about his package. She moves her thumb to the head of his cock, collects a bead of precum, and swirls around the head affectionately. Her brows furrow with want. He holds her tighter, closing the gap between them. He begins thrusting again, hard and slow. Rey grinds her throbbing warmth against his lower shaft while her hand is still in between them.

She feels the spine of her groin twitching and knows she’s close. She takes a deep breath and lets a sharper pleasure overtake her chest and groin. Her breath quickens as she nears her peak. She still has her leggings on. He reaches his broad hands into the back of her leggings, taking one buttcheek in each hand and moves her up and down against him. “I need you,” he breathes. They look into each other’s eyes and there’s something wild in his pupils, something dark, like a warm, black hole, drawing her in. “Take me,” she says. He reaches a hand behind her neck to cradle her head, and they gaze at each other, breathing, grinding. Then he pulls her face decisively to his.

Rey inhales through her nose as their lips meet hungrily. He kisses her hard, too messily to seal their mouths together, leaving his lower lip between her lips as he draws in a deep breath through his mouth. He then closes his lips on her upper lip, his teeth and tongue slightly grazing it. Half his mouth opens into hers, the other halves of their mouths still breathing heavily.

He shifts her slightly upward, wraps her around his waist, and she feels the head of his rock hard cock aggressively nuzzling her clit, up and down. His tongue finds hers and she lets it brush against her teeth. When she pulls away for a moment, he looks her in the eyes. They’re both moving faster now, and as they’re about to come, she folds herself into him, sliding her lips down his chin to his neck and opening her mouth, breathing against his skin.

His thumb finds her most sensitive place and one touch sends her over the edge. The pleasure is almost too much to bear. Her ass clenches as ecstacy blooms from her groin, her nipples, her ears, and deep within her gut. Muscles she didn’t even know she had shudder in release, and he wraps his arms tight around her, thrusting to the beat of her orgasm. She rides wave after wave, pulsating against his cock, and as another wave swells he groans, and she feels his cock begin its own contractions, intensifying hers.

Rey’s mouth is open against his neck and she’s breathing into his skin and as he unleashes a huge lode of cum, between them, soaking through her leggings, and gluing their clothes together. Her canines dig harmlessly into the side of his neck – she can’t resist – then she brings her lips to the flesh and seals it with a kiss. She collapses into him, loosely hugging him with her legs, and the two of them just breathe. Then he tightens his arms around her in a hug, and she looks up. She sees the mark of her teeth on his neck, and remembers no one else will see it. This isn’t real.

She nuzzles her head into her mark and blinks her eyelashes against his skin. He sighs slowly through his nose, then she feel the vibrations of his voice against her face as he says, “You are… remarkable.” She lies there breathing for a few minutes and he wraps them both in a cream, cable-knit throw. She falls asleep in his arms and wakes up in her own bed, marveling at how a dream can make one feel like they’ve experienced someone so intimately. She hadn’t had a lucid dream in years. She absently scratches an itch between her breasts and wonders how she can be sure to dream of him again tonight. Was it the rooibos, or the sheer will of her want?

#adam driver character #ben solo fanfic #ben solo smut #kylo ren smut #ben solo x rey #kylo ren #kylo ren x rey #toxicanonymity ☠️#reylo fanfic #reylo smut #reylo #inappropriate use of the force #wrong use of the force #tw dubcon #star wars fanfiction

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thatagenderfreak · 10 months

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Cabin

Deep in the lush green forests of Ravenvale there stands a dilapidated log cabin dripping in vines and moss. Much of the dark wood is covered in lichen and tree fungus. Sun-bleached roof tiles that look like they may have once been red contrast with the dark of the green trees at the edge of the clearing. A path of cracked, grey stones leads to a weather-worn door with a dull brass knob and bell. In the alcove by the door sit dirty plant pots and glass jars filled with dirt; rotted plant holders sway in time with a pair of wind chimes by the door. A set of lanterns hang on chains and hooks in the alcove, their glass walls cracked and sooty.

Tall grass wraps around a carriage that looks like it may have once been expensive, but now is little more than torn fabric and warped wood. Thistles add pops of colour to the seas of green and brown. What once was a group of raised garden beds is now just rotten wood and weeds. A large spruce tree stands proud in the center of the clearing, offering shade to any who sit under it. When the wind blows through its branches a sound like laughing children rings out, even when there is not a child in sight.

A large pond glitters in the sun. The white sand of its shore is warm and soft, the cold water glints blue and reveals the only clean area of the clearing. Along one side of the pond grows pond grass and reeds that sway in time with the trees.

Few have seen the cabin during the day, and even fewer have seen it at night. No one has seen it during both day and night, leading many to believe that there must be two cabins, for how else could the stories be so different? The Day Cabin is old and falling apart, and the Night Cabin is lively and well taken care of.

The Night Cabin is covered I moonflowers and wisteria. Clean wooden walls with glowing windows cast light over the clearing. Shadows dance and play in the windows, children and adults mingling. Outside, the clearing is filled with raucous laughter and smiling faces.

The dark wood of the house looks new, the roofing tiles a vibrant red-orange, none of the pathstones are cracked. The door’s intricate designs are no longer cracked and warped. Brass gleams in the lantern light, shiny and new. The mismatched plant pots and glasses all contain a variety of flowers and ferns, and the chimes sing merrily in the brisk night breeze.

The grass of the clearing reaches no higher than a child's ankles and is dotted with a colourful array of flowers. The carriage sits I the clearing, sleek wood covered with shiny black fabric. A spruce tree is being climbed by a group of children who laugh and taunt each other.

The pond water glints sapphire in the moonlight, endlessly deep and smooth. Occasionally, a pair of lovers will be spotted on the beach, embracing in the moonlight.

If someone goes missing from the village, usually a child or one of the elderly, the next time the Night Cabin is spotted, so are they. They wave their final goodbye, then turn and join the rest of the people there, disappearing from view. The village elders say it is the final resting place of the wistful and innocent, and that all in the village will one day join the people of the cabin.

#writing #atmosperic #cabin #fantasy #I genuinely got this idea from a kids writing promt omg #art #digital art #digital artist #art and writing #The art was an experiment #i dont like it #But it sort of connects so hey

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2am-cursed-fanfic · 2 years

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ABRAHAM LINCOLN X SPRUCE TREE

Winning the reelection of 1864 was both an honor and a terror.

I won with a 55% voting percentage, I won so perfectly, it nearly scared me. I think it scares me in some bit of every inch of my body.

The nation is not new I think back to those founding fathers must been terrifying running and governing something so unexplored and unknown, creating something from the ground up. And yet I sit here terrified on something it’s already built and yet I change it. It’s all becoming new again.

I wonder about the changing of the nation.

Freeing slaves upset a lot of people but freed a lot of people, that is much more important. Especially for the war, as my eyes as president I feel it is important.

I smell the forest around me, The trees and the bushes, they truly are all stunning in Pennsylvania. But I suppose everything is beautiful in Pennsylvania.

Currently I live in Illinois, but I love the weeks my wife spends with her sisters up here.

I usually get left alone in the cabin for days simply because my wife wants to spend all the time with her sisters and as president I feel I need to take a break whenever I need. Includes from my in-laws.

Log cabin I staying is very secluded, I almost feel lonely if the bustling trees didn’t remind me The sound of nature that is alive all around me.

Today I walk through the forest and the trees are all golden from the sun setting. I have tretted the forests around my house millions of times. Memorizing every bush borough and logs around. But still I am mesmerized for the beauty that enhances nature. Especially the trees.

I can name them all the sugar maple, the northern red oak, the eastern red cedar, hemlock, and even the hackberry trees. But I believe my favorite is the simple spruce trees. The thin and scaley bark, the evergreen color, the height, the build, and probably my favorite thing about the trees the size, because of course they aren’t only tall and strong but from the tips to the roots they are big in radius.

Ever since I was young spruce trees always fascinated me. I would spend hours just feeling the trunk and counting as many needles as I could. Just hiding under the shade gave me some sort of comfort and a feeling I couldn’t express whenI was younger.

I stand now walking between the trees getting closer to a patch of spruce trees. I have my axe in hand but I don’t need any more firewood, I just need something to cure my boredom. I get to the clearing and now I’m surrounded by spruce trees. All looking beautiful and radiant in the disappearing sun, and yet one catches my eye.

I have been to this clearing before but I swear I’ve never seen this tree before. The green of the street is more radiant than the others, with the others green being more cadmium green but this one more properly castleton, it stood out from the crowd. The branches were even it was perfectly symmetrical, being a naturally nature, A complex structure on its own.

The way it stood there, so strong and bold, I dared to touch the Pineneedles, The wonderfully colored Pineneedles.

When I touched it, I felt the shiver down my spine like being struck by lightning with a key in my hand. I’ll take this one back to my cabin. I grabbed my axe, but I didn’t dare go for the trunk, no it was much too precious for that. I went to the base of the tree and cut around the roots and when I was ready I pulled it from the earth with all the strength I could muster.

“I’m going to take good care of you,” I found myself saying out loud, gently lifting the tree into my arms, for a moment I felt like the tree shivered too.

The walk back to my cabin was both quick and slow. The sun made me feel as if I was going quickly as the day was ending, but still I feel impatient to get back to the sanctity of my cabin and to make a new home for the spruce tree there.

When I got to the cabin, that’s when time truly felt as if it was slowing, as if opening the copper door knob was The most time consuming activity on the planet. And the door flung open though I could only push the spruce tree inside, feeling so impatient of my growing solitude.

I ran into the house, laying most of the spruce onto my bed and letting the other half fall onto the ground, having the Pineneedles spread amongst my floor. Seeing the beauty draped onto my bedsheets, I could not control myself any longer, I started ripping at the buttons on my shirt.

With the fury of the moment I could see the branches of the tree trembling with excitement for me. I already felt as if my pants were too tight, but in that moment they felt suffocating, and ironically in that cabin I felt as everything turned wood.

I undid my belt with lighting speed, and unbuttoned my pants and let them fall to the floor. My underwear needed no persuasions they felt the floor too.

My dick is throbbing, I want that tree inside of me and make me feel like this cabin is heaven on earth. Hop onto the bed, i’m getting to position, laying my head gently on the pillow.

“ are you ready?” I say to me or the tree I don’t know, I don’t care as I grab the tree by it’s base and pull it into me and my dick gets trapped in the branches. It feels so good, I began to pull it in and out of me, thrusting making my entrance and dick fucked by the spruce tree.

I moan loudly the longer I do it, the needles adds a sensual experience to the feeling of being fucked by a spruce tree. I’m not finished. But I speed the thrusting, and I feel like I’m getting close. I breath with the thrusts and suddenly “Ohah-“ I scream as I orgasm.

The tree covered in my cum, I breath well coming down, then I start to realize a strange feeling in my hole it feels sticky and in me. I wonder what it is, it doesn’t feel bad my any means but what could it be?

I touch the branches they tremble, oh now I see,

“You think since I make a mess on you, you can make a mess in me with your Sap?”

The needles prick at the sound of my demanding voice.

“ well I’ll tell you what My gift of nature, i’ll let you do that again if we go all night.”

The branches seem to move up and down nodding almost begging for yes. And with that I hope my wife test come back for weeks, as I bobble that tree on my dick for hours and hours until we mean the sun again.

You know they call me honest Abe, but maybe some secret should stay with the woods.

I don’t know why I did this, but it exists now you’re welcome.

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joiedevivrevehicles · 1 year

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All The Accessories You Can Get For The Renault Triber

The Renault Triber for sale arrived in India in 2019 and the model turned out to be quite the game-changer given its unique positioning. The MPV is the country's most affordable multi-seater and impresses with its clever packaging despite the subcompact size. The Triber also looks good, is efficient, and packs a frugal, if not very powerful 1.0-litre petrol engine under the bonnet. The MPV has found quite a few takers and Renault is offering plenty of accessories to further make the model more exciting for buyers.

The Renault Triber gets four accessory packs, which can be fitted at the dealer level. Alternatively, buyers can purchase standalone accessories that include cosmetic garnish as well as essential feature additions. Here's a look at the accessories on offer.

1. SUV Pack

The Renault Triber's styling is half battle one for the automaker with its rugged appeal. The MPV gets a more SUV-like stance rather than a run-of-the-mill MPV, and buyers can build on this with the SUV Pack. The accessories pack adds exterior elements like body side cladding, bumper garnish, spoiler, and more for a more rugged visual look.

Body Side Cladding

Rear Bumper Cladding with Red Garnish

Spoiler

Fender Cladding

2. Chrome Pack

Many buyers love chrome and the Chrome Pack on the Triber adds the much-loved bling on the MPV. Accessories include chrome garnish on the grille, door handles, headlamp, window frame, taillights and tailgate, ORVMs, as well as the gear bezel.

Chrome Door Handle

Front Grille Chrome Garnish

Headlamp Chrome

Tailgate Chrome

Tail Lamp Chrome Window Frame Kit Roof Lamp Kit

Window Frame Kit

Roof Lamp Chrome

Gear Bezel Chrome

ORVM Chrome

3. Urban Pack

Renault is offering some nifty features with the Urban Pack on the Triber including a front parking sensor, illuminated scuff plate, ORVM blinkers, ambient lighting and more. The feature addition does spruce up the value quotient on the car, bringing a more premium feel.

Front Parking Sensor

Illuminated Scuff Plate

ORVM Blinker

3D Floor Mat

Ambient Lighting

4. Essential Pack

The Triber's Essential Pack is the most useful and should be considered by several buyers. The pack includes a car cover, mud flap, carpet mat and more. Do remember that all the accessories are fitted at the dealer level on the vehicle.

Car Cover

Mud Flap

Carpet Mat

Bumper Corner Protector

Assorted Accessories

Beyond the accessories packs, Renault offers a host of assorted accessories on the Triber. Most notably, this includes alloy wheels with inserts, body graphics, door visors, roof carrier, bumper corner protector, body side cladding and more. You also get an illuminated logo, illuminated gear knob, puddle lamp, designer floor mats, as well as an IRVM back cover. The French automaker also retails vinyl seat covers for the Triber with different style options.

Alloy Wheels - with colour-based inserts

Body Graphics - Criss Cross/Triangles/Gradient

Bumper Corner Protector (with Black/Chrome Inserts)

Car Cover

Mud Flaps

Fender Cladding

Body Side Cladding

Illuminated Scuff Plate

ORVM Blinker

Illuminated Logo

Illuminated Gear Knob

Ambient Lighting

Carpet/PVC/3D Floor Mat

Trunk Mat

IRVM Back Cover

Vinyl Seat Cover

PRO TIP: Buy a used Renault Triber for sale and add accessories to get the best Triber at the best price possible.

Info reshared from https://www.carandbike.com/news/

#car accessories

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attackfrench0 · 2 years

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17 thru 22 Super Duty F250 F350 OEM Ford Black Leather Steering Wheel w_ Cruise

This 17-22 Super Duty F250 F350 OEM Ford black leather steering wheel is sure to give your car an updated look. This wheel is made with a heavy-duty case-in-case coating and is covered in burnout protection. It also features a black techiz logo in the center of the wheel. The wheel is also covered in an inside-out design that helps keep your hands clean and your fingers from getting greasy.

13. 5" Super Max Lightweight Drag Racing Performance Steering Wheel 5-Bolt

The 13. 5 supermax lightweight drag racing steering wheel is perfect for those looking for performance. It is lightweight and thin, making it perfect for on-track use. The wheel is also adjustable, making it perfect for a variety of driving styles. Plus, the 5-bolt design makes it easy to adjust the wheel's tension, ensuring a perfectiroh of pressure on the track Fremont Die.

K Style CLASSIC 350MM STEERING WHEEL MAHOGANY WOOD WITH BLACK SPOKE Nardi New

This is a Nardi product! The K Style CLASSIC 350MM STEERING WHEEL is made in America of knotless bamboo and hardwood. It has a black spruce nodi with350mm wheelbase and a reach of 10 metres. The wheel is all STEERING WHEELS must have! With its perfect design andfunction, the K Style CLASSIC 350MM STEERING WHEEL is perfect for any activity. It can handle any work or destination you put it in, and is easy to operate with a one-button interface. The black spruce nodi and hardwood cover are perfect for any d�cor or exterior use. The K Style CLASSIC 350MM STEERING WHEEL is a perfect addition to your vehicle and will provide you with years of use and beauty.

Polished 5-6 Hole Steering Wheel Hub Adapter Kit for GM Chevy GMC Chrysler Dodge

This is a kit for GM Chevy GMC Chrysler Dodge cars that includes a hub adapter and a tool to drill 5-6 hole on the front of the car. The hub adapter will help keep the wheel clean and free of Artist. The kit includes: - Hub Adapter - Tool to Drill 5-6 Hole Steering Wheel Hub Adapter kit - A User Guide This product is sure to help you keep your GM Chevy GMC Chrysler Dodge cars in good condition!

Racing Simulator Cockpit Steering Wheel Stand for Logitech G29 G920 Thrustmaster

The Racing Simulator Cockpit Steering Wheel Stand is an ideal solution for those with Logitech G29 G920 Thrustmaster headsets Steering Wheels . It allows you to use the steering wheel as a TV set with your friends or family, or use them as an Add-On to your gaming computers. The stand also has a strong magnetic design that does not lose its position, making it perfect for use in tight spaces.

Collapsible Car Power Steering Wheel Suicide Spinner Handle Knob Booster

The Suicide Spinner handle knob is the perfect way to add a touch of luxury to your car. With its collapsible handle, this knob is perfect for those who want to add a touch of luxury to their car. The handle is also perfect for those who want to add a touch of luxury to their car with its luxurious feel.

Deep Dish 6-Bolt White Wood Gold Steel Steering Wheel + Horn Universal 350mm 14"

Lip" This is a wheel for a 350mm 14"" lip truck. It has a 6-bolt white wood gold steel steering wheel with a 350mm 14"" lip. The wheel is also include a horn. This wheel is perfect for a 350mm 14"" lip truck.

3-Spoke Classic Series Black Foam Steering Wheel w Chrome Perforated Spokes

This 3-spoke classic series wheel is a great choice for those that are looking for a high-quality wheel that will provide they continue to wear and tear. The black foam steering wheel is made up of a high-quality material that will provide you with long-lasting performance. Additionally, the chrome perforated spords provide a durable and continual traction.

Universal Microfiber Leather Car SUV Steering Wheel Cover 15" For Honda Jeep Red

The Universal Microfiber Leather Car SUV Steering Wheel Cover 15" is a great way to protect your Honda Jeep from damage. This cover includes a15-in. -length microfiber fabric to protect your steering wheel and door panels; and a14-in. -length leather strap to keep the cover close to your body. The cover is made of 100% microfiber fabric and has a breathable design to keep your hands and skin warm. https://over.steering-wheel.org/ The cover also has a young-of-handmade look and feel Racing Steering Wheelsstore.windingroad.com ? cars ? steering.

NEW NRG Deep Dish Steering Wheel 350mm Black Suede Black Center RST-006S

This NRG Steering Wheel is made of 350mm black leather and brown suede. It is designed to keep you in control and keep your cars in tight spots. The black center RST-006S is the final piece of the package, making it the perfect choice for a discussant's car. The wheel is X-shaped and has a self-cleaning surface that is also includes a non-stick coating. It is also equip with an indicator light and a speedometer Steering Wheel and Accessories . The wheel is equipped with two shift paddles and a endearing amount of travel. The black suede is also a perfect option for this NRG Steering Wheel. Finally, the RST-006S is also equipped with a wheel hub, making it compatible with any NRG car.

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multiplefandomsblog · 3 years

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[Identity V] Chubby!Eli x Gn!Reader (oneshot)

request; Chubby Eli x reader (mayyyyybe NSFW?) You can’t tell me that Eli isn’t chubby. HE HAS PUDGE AND IT’S CUTE

warnings! suggestive???, reader uses gender neutral pronouns, reader has gender neutral parts, mention of male body parts, Eli is chubby, masturbation, thigh squeezing????, Eli is a little insecure, non-consensual touching.

What is underneath Eli Clarks clothes?

This sounds like a creepy question, but really... what’s underneath? All he wears is loose baggy cloth draped over himself, and the only part of his body you can see is the tip of his nose and his mouth; so it really did give everyone tons of room for imagination.

Everyone’s sitting around the dining table, together for dinner. You pick up your silver spoon pouring your soup back into itself, mixing it around, avoiding putting it in your mouth.

You look across the table to see Eli Clark. He’s sitting there silently and his owl is perched on his shoulder, choking down a mouse. You look down at the white ceramic bowl in front of him, it seems he’s already finished his meal.

“Hey Eli, ya still hungry? Want the rest of my soup?” Demi asks him. Eli turns his head in her direction and barely let’s out a noise before Demi pinches his chubby cheek and slides her bowl in front of him.

His face turns hot red as he rubs the tender part that Demi squeezed between her painted nails.

About an hour later you go looking for Eli. You knock on his rooms’ spruce wood door, awaiting a response. Silence... you knock again. Still no sign of him, you gently rattle the doorknob. The brass knob twists and you perk up in surprise.

You peek into the room, to see his owl sitting on his bed, waiting patiently. You hear the noise of water gently hitting bathroom tile. You turn your head towards the washroom door and see that the light is on.

You stare at his owl, it stares back.

You slowly step towards the door, laying your hand on the brass knob, listening to the pitter patter of water falling from his shower head. You press your ear against the door. You hear something else...

It sounds like... moaning...

You hear soft moans coming from the washroom, along with the gentle wet sound of something slapping something else. You quietly crack open the door, praying the hinges don’t squeak.

The moans get progressively louder as you enter the washroom. His navy coloured clothes are tossed in a hamper. You hear sharp exhale come from behind the shower curtains, followed by a sigh of relief.

The water stops and you freeze in your tracks. You’re going to get caught red-handed for peeping at Eli while he showers...

The rings holding the curtain quickly drag across the iron rod, your heart jumps Eli let’s out a yelp when he sees you. He jumps back and slips under his feet. You leap forward and catch Eli in your arms, and he wraps his chubby arms around your neck.

You stare at his deep blue, panicked eyes as his wet and naked body presses against yours. You feel as he starts to heat up, his face becomes flush and his muscles become more tense.

“Y-y-y/n!” he says in a timid voice. He averts his eyes, looking for a towel to cover himself up. He attempts to shield his crotch and tummy with his arms, slowly trying to back away from you. You’re in a daze, staring at him while fumbles around for coverage.

Now’s not the time to think about how cute he looks! You snap back into reality and rush out the washroom door to find him a towel. You find one laying on a chair near his bed and rush back in to the washroom and throw it around him. He hugs the towel around him tightly.

He looks at you in hopes you didn’t notice, but you very obviously saw everything.

“D-don’t tell anyone... p-please?” He looks up at you with hopeful, insecure eyes. His face is covered in shame and embarrassment.

“Sure, but under one condition...” you look down at him with a sly grin creeping up on your face. His expression turns from hopeful to scared, dreading what your request might be.

“Lemme squish your thighs!” Your fingers curl in and out, making a squeezing motion.

His eyes widen in shock.

“Th-that’s it?” He stutters out.

You nod your head in response. His eyes dart from side to side, and he slowly reveals his pillows from underneath the towel. He clenches the towel between his hand, his thighs pressed tightly together, looking away, face flushed. You lean down and poke his thigh. You then smack your whole palm on it and start to play with the chub on his legs.

The skin is soft, a little cool and damp from the shower. You poke around, playing with it like a child with pizza dough. You laugh giddily as you poke around the sides and squeeze it between your fingers.

“O-okay, that’s enough...” Eli shoos you away with his hands.

You unclamp your fingers from his thighs and stand back up.

Eli looks up at you with an awkward smile.

You smile back, and strut back out the bathroom door.

“Hehe, cute.” you say under your breath as you walk out.

167 notes · View notes

blufox234isadumbname · 3 years

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dream (XD, maybe?) visits fundy in his dreams. it's the only thing making them bearable, and keeping him sane

Nobody [inspired by a mitski song]

Many make mistakes, Fundy was one of them. He just wanted to make sure Yoghurt was safe that night, what with more mobs emerging from the south. He just wanted to tuck his kid and make sure he slept better than him. With kiddish purrs becoming white noise, he should've stopped himself when he felt his lids flutter, when his bed dipped and he saw the house go black.

The fox-hybrid opened his eyes, already letting the horror sink in before opening the damn door. It was all over again, he thought he was getting better. No. He was a fool, still a foolish fox. Yoghurt was no longer by his side, and he already started to feel sweltering heat entering the home. Fundy's heart already ached, already sore. His breaths were heavy, weighted over him as he laid in the dreaded empty bed. Tears were beginning to form but he blinked and rubbed them harshly away. Just close your eyes, he thought. But he knew better, wishes could never be reality. He just wanted it to be over, so he had to do it himself. Fundy always had to do everything himself anyways, this was no different.

He got up and readjusted his black breton cap. Steady and stalwart, steps crept towards and stopped in front of the door. Twisting the knob, a final breath was heaved before the same scenery greeted the displeasured fox. He became familiar with the barren land, covered by only hot dry sand and tall cacti. The winds seemed to be strong that dream, dust clouds were choking the poor dreamer. He closed the door behind him, noticing his red tail hung low. First thing was first, he left the area of his house to find anything out of place. It was instinct to try and spot something that stuck out like a sore thumb, besides his little spruce wood cottage.

Fundy sank his naked feet into the sand, burning his padded paws. He trudged along in a random direction, which was wherever the barest clouds were drifting opposite from. That's all he did for a couple of minutes, maybe more than half an hour to him. Prime, he hated how the sun was bright, how the sunshine was a glaring spot above him. He hated to stare at the dull sky for any second longer. He hated winds dusting the sand into his eyes. All of it was n eyesore, metaphorically and litterally.

He just continued onward, awaiting any subtle and not-so-subtle ghostly remnants of his history coming back to haunt. To be reminded of why his life sucked, that was surely fun, right? He wanted a break, a detour from the disaster that was him. For not the first time, he wanted to be elsewhere. Not just in the dream but in reality. Yes, Las Nevadas was the haven he wanted it to be. But that came with the cost of having his dreadfully undead father closer to him. As if he wanted a chance to be mocked and haunted. Even more so, Tubbo and Ranboo causing a commotion with Quackity already had set him at unease. Threats towards a nation he called a home, a lovely return to the cycle. Like dirty water from the sea to acid rain in the clouds, it's become the same horrid cycle.

Speaking of clouds, the fox-hybrid looked up. The smallest gathering of clouds became a crowd of them all across a brighter baby blue canvas. The yucky yellow sand turned a grassier green. If he squinted, he could maybe see the blooms of other than cactus flowers. Finally, a reason for the feet under him to pick up their pace. Fundy kept running towards the green, faster and faster as he could taste them with his fingers. As soon as he was near enough, he dived right into the fresh field. A little mistake, per usual, as he began rolling down a knoll all of a sudden. Through the short wild grass into a taller field of lavender and peonies, the fox finally took a deep breath. A clean and relaxed breath-

"Hello, Fundy."

- before it hitched.

Fundy lifted his head up above the flowers to spot a cleared spot. In the patch of cornflowers and poppies, a naked area of just grass lay, with a figure. He knew it well, with the dirty blonde hair - though he never remembered it being at scruffy and shoulder length - and deadly smile-painted mask adorned. In a lime, white and black letterman jacket over a starkingly orange jumpsuit. He knew that man well, even by the soft humming. The blank eyes of the mask and the man behind to stared at the fox-hybrid. If it weren't a nightmare yet, Fundy figured it just started.

"How are you here?" The hoodied man asked

"Don't...don't even talk to me..." The overcoated fox snarled with teeth bared and tail puffed.

Dream huffed, toying with something in his hands.

"I just asked. The dreamscape is not normally so free reign. For you, you're the least I expected to be able to cross barriers of mind."

"What the fuck are you talking about. Why are you here? What, to haunt me? To mock me? To tell me I'm useless?"

"...To make flower crowns"

He held up said piece of rope strung with flower blooms. His was a cornflower and daisy crown.

"That...that's it?"

"Can you control your dreams?"

"That...it's none of your business, Dream."

"I'm assuming no. But you are willingly seeing me. So in that case, I suppose I can tell you. You know I was imprisoned, in that big ol' prison? Anyway, a being gave me a wish, or rather a gift. I could control my own dreams, I could lucid dream whenever I wanted to. So I could stay in prison while still feeling the grassy field. So I'm here."

"You don't...get nightmares? NOS Cary reminders of your past? Nothing scary?" *And while I do?*, Fundy doesn't add on. Dream pauses for a break. before he answers

"How could I? I control every aspect of my dream. Though you are certainly not part of it. I appreciate the company, kinda? But I'd rather not keep it. It's be nice if I just asked that dream being to remove you-"

"NO!"

"Excuse me?"

"P-Please...I-I don't wanna go back..."

He hated how his voice became frail at the drop of a hat, how his ears flattens and how shaky his hands became. Already begging to a tyrant, the same one who's destroyed everything in his life. What Fundy had begged was true, however, he didn't not want to go back to nightmares. This was the only time the dreams felt good. Albeit muddled by a lime menace, it was better than the frightening things ahead did him. The fox heard the man sigh.

"Sure, sure you can stay."

"Thank you..."

Fundy sat down in front of Dream, criss-cross legged. And the two were silent. The dreamer kept weaving in the flowers in the rope while the intruder simply watched. His clawed hands picked at the grass blades. Admittedly he enjoyed the scenery, if it weren't for the horror of a man in front of him. He noticed the excess rope tossed aside and something in Fundy urged him to use it too. He could tell eyes were on him again even from behind the unmoving mask.

"Yes, you can make flower crowns too. You know how to make one?"

"Y-yeah. Niki taught me how to make one with rope. I made hers with alliums. She gave me one made out to tulips" Fundy chuckled at the memory fondly.

Dream paid no mind just gave Fundy the extra rope and returned to his own project. After that, the quietness continued for much longer. But Fundy was never a fan of long silences.

"...Why a field? Out of flowers? I didn't know you were into this kind of stuff."

Dream paused for a minute, seemingly deliberating. He room a breath and spoke;

"It's just me wanting to relive old memories. Before settling in the SMP, me and George went to a flower field. We just spent half the say there doing jack all."

"It's always George is it?"

"... he's my friend. I'd do anything for him."

"Even terrorising a nation? Even threatening a kid? Even dethroning him?"

"..."

The silence spoke volumes. Fundy knew he overstepped, but it was hard for him to be sympathetic over it. He swore the surroundings looked dimmer for a second.

"I miss him. I'm no longer allowed visitors and even then, he never came by to visit."

"Who did?"

"Sapnap. Bad. Tommy, surely you know. Then Technoblade."

"Wait Techno visited you?"

"Less visit and more just made a new space in my jail cell. It's like a vacation to him. I'm not mad but...I like here better anyway."

"What's it like? In the jail cell."

"Tight. Closed. Hot. And I mean scorching. It's surrounded by lava. Barely much room to move around, not much there. I do have books to write in but so far I have started writing none."

"Someone hasn't been productive, I see?"

"I liked to write stuff. Just random things. But in a cramped space...I can't. I see why people are claustrophobic. It's feel like hell in there...for more than just the lava."

Fundy started to feel a twinge of a heat wave on his back as he stuck a flower into the rope. It died down shortly after.

"Since you're asking me questions. It should be fair I ask you."

"That's...yeah, that's fair."

"What were you doing, before you slept?"

"In bed. Just...alone in my cottage. Far away with no one else." Fundy lied, no matter the somewhat friendly tone, he wasn't ever going to risk Yoghurt.

"I thought you had Eret? Or Niki? I thought maybe you guys stay in at Least a neighbourhood."

"I...I haven't spoken to either in so long. I think they forgot about me. That's...fair"

"Hmm..."

Before I slept I was just building m stuff in Las Nevadas. It's...it's a thing Quackity built. I can't say more than that-"

A roar of something, not too loud but enough to be noticeable, came through. It spooked Fundy well enough.

"Dream what-"

"Let's...not talk about that."

"Well, what else is there to talk about me? I have nothing else. That...that palace is all I got going for me honestly."

"I thought you had more."

"No. After L'manburg, all of it gone, I don't have much else. By who, I wonder?I didn't care, that was fine by me until I did something different. I'm making sure I have a place, at least."

"Like a house?"

Fundy twisted the stalk gently, silently.

"Like a place of belonging. Where I can be remembered and people know where I am."

"I get that..."

"Of course you do, you tyrant. Your name is sure to be famous."

"Not the being remembered part. The belonging part."

The clouds seemed heavier at that moment.

"Find it hard to believe coming from the same guy that he cares for no one but a kid's discs."

"I know what I said, Fundy. But I don't care about the discs. I care about having control. Having everything in my hands. To take strings of the marionette and play them by my fingers. That's what I aim for, not just useless material discs."

"What does this have to do with belonging?"

The roar came back, a roar of thunder.

"The puppet master is not a puppet. He cannot be a puppet. When the puppets go free, he is left for dead..."

Dream's scarred hands clutch the half done green tulip crown. Down a drop goes from the petal. Then another, then another. Fundy looks up, to see the trickles. Down the drops of precipitation go to his face. Fundy's chest felt heavy, clebtched by something in a grip. He saw Dream looking up as well. From the angle he could partially see the bottom features under the mask. A pursed mouth with scars on his lips. Dottings of freckles across his cheeks. Streaks of not raindrops reaching down his chin. He heard the hiccups, the struggle to compose oneself. He knew that too well. Fundy found the part to care about as he stroked Dream's forearm carefully.

"I-I'm sorry, It's...I-I'm never like this. I'll just change-" the masked man's voice was breakable, cusp of falling apart.

"No. I like the rain."

Dream looked back to Fundy. It was true, the fox-hybrid liked rain. He used to play in the puddles as it drizzled even into adulthood, before more important things occupied his time. Like getting weapons for war or spying on a president. Fundy had on a solemn smile, a weak one in the likeable weather. His hair and fur became bristled whislt his tail wrapped unconsciously around him.

"I feel alone too. Everyone has left me

The people that I care about always hate me or leave. They leave me frightened in a place where everything so to survive. I'm barely staying alive as is. I don't have anyone."

"I don't have anyone either. I'm heartless, I pushed them away. Techno is with me, yeah. But what happens then? I'm too scared to find out. All I want is to just be free..."

Fundy laughed a bit. He tossed aside the half-effort flower crown and stood up. He opened his arms wide, further than his shoulders. He kept laughing, giggling, wheezing over. He raked a hand through ginger and snow white locks of his, knocking back his black breton cap.

"What's so funny?"

"Well, one, it's already crazy you're telling me all of this. This all feels like stuff you'd suppressed hard. Even in your dreams. And secondly...god, I wish we talked more sooner."

"What?"

"You and me, both alone in this world. We're unlovable. Reckless bastards we are. I'm not the worst like you but by Prime, I'm just as lonely as you. I can't excuse reving Wilbur and the 16th...but maybe we could've been friends."

He knew dream was smiling, not from the mask but from the small line of daylight peeking through the clouds.

"Fundy, I could never be friends with you. I'd push you away too."

"Then don't push me away now. I'm desperate, man."

"...I wouldn't."

Fundy smiled a glint of the sun right back at Dream. For once in a dream, he was at ease. The pouring rain slowed s little down to a drizzle, enough fro him to avoid smelling of dog water. The clouds journeyed away from the meadow, and let the sun's smile through. He loved the rays of sunshine gracing his face above him. He loved he could stare at the cloud-scattered sky for almost hours. He loved the winnow through the grass that made them dance. He loved it there.

"Sorry about the rain. In my dreams, I rarely can talk to anyone. And techno is not exactly the most relatable with what I have. Outside, I keep it in. But where I am, where we are, is inside me already."

"Fun to know this is the inner machinations of the terror Dream."

"Hehehah"

"...I probably won't remember this happend. When I wake I won't have a clear thought of events. Just so you'd know."

"It's fine. I knew you wouldn't anyway. That's why I let most of it out. That and because, I feel like I can trust you. I can't leave my cell but maybe someday I'll find you again. And maybe-"

A click from behind Dream's head could be heard. He moved his hand latched onto the mask and pulled it down. There he was, gentle scarred smile with even gentler eyes, covered by dirty blonde turning silver white to the tips. Irises coloured almost like emerald and aqua ender eyes looked back to the fox. Finally, his black tipped ears lifted and twitched, and his tail was wagging slightly.

"-we could be alone together again?"

Fundy's heart ached, sore already.

"I'd like to. For now, let's just depend on dreams."

"I can work with that."

Dream tossed his mask aside, uncaring and apathetic to the piece of porcelain disguise. He gently pushed Fundy by the tip of his finger, to which the former feign to be toppled. He fell in the middle of the tall peonies and lavenders and tulips. Dream joined a second after, right next to Fundy. Bliss, this is what he Fundy would call it. He felt less tensed, less mangled on fear. He had spent sleeping hours just shaken, because his fears conquered him alone. Taunting him because he was alone. Preyed on every part of him alone. But now he had a chance, to dwell int eh shrot grass, be crowned royalty in a field of flowers and feel less on his own. Fundy closed his eyes, as the smell of morning dew hit him.

And he woke up, lied curled up next to Yoghurt. And with a flower in his palm. A rose. He already wants to sleep, no matter the chance of being in the desert again. He wants to see the sunshine in the field of flowers more than anything.

#fundy #itsfundy #dreamwastaken #fundywastaken #dream SMP #dsmp #dsmp fic #i guess #request #my god i had this idea float aroudn in my head for so .logn and now it has rraurfaced in my mind #thank you????#iys a bit dialouge heavy #ita late and this was on my phoen jsnteas of on desktop #sjdnejdn so sorry ifnitis shit

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luvshuas · 3 years

Text

behind the oak door

pairing - soonyoung x reader

tags - horror

synopsis - having traveled for hours, soonyoung stops at a bed & breakfast for the night, but following the strange set of rules he is given, he soon discovers something that was never meant for his eyes

word count - 3.5k

note - the public did not ask for something scary, therefore i must give them something scary!

Four hours. That’s how long it had been since Soonyoung last saw anyone. Four hours since he left the gas station where the clerk told him to be careful, especially as he got closer to the forest of thick spruce trees. Soonyoung had laughed at the clerk’s warning, assuring the man that he would be fine as long as he had a full tank of gas and an energy drink to keep him alert. In the four hours since he had left the gas station, Soonyoung hadn’t seen a single car. No one was heading to or from the direction of the spruce trees. It was just him, his depleting tank of gas, and the empty energy drink can that sat in his cup holder next to one he had finished earlier in the drive.

The lack of any life at all — save for the trees — didn’t worry Soonyoung. Who, besides him, would come hiking through this region as winter began nearing? He laughed to himself. His friends back at home must think he’s crazy for doing something like this, but would Soonyoung be if not a thrill seeker?

It was another two hours of driving before anything other than trees and road came into view. Cleverly placed at the side of the road, the building was a large tudor-style home. A flimsy hanging sign at the edge of the road read, in large letters, “QUIET PINES BED & BREAKFAST.” Soonyoung made no hesitation turning onto the gravel driveway that led to the house. It wasn’t dark yet, but Soonyoung could see the sun beginning to set, and he didn’t have any plans to pull off to the shoulder of the road and sleep in his car.

The small parking lot was completely vacant of any cars, save for a small silver Kia. Parking in the space closest to the front of the house, Soonyoung got out of his car, opting to leave his bags inside just so it didn’t look like he was implying that the bed and breakfast had no patrons — though, by the looks of the parking lot, it definitely had none. Walking up to the house, Soonyoung was able to get a better look at all of the details. The house seemed built on a sturdy foundation with a cobbled path leading up to stone stairs, and then a small stone porch. Moss was clinging to the stones and slipping through their cracks. Ivy grew up the red brick walls and across the once white stucco.

The door knob turned easily, save for a few squeaks, and the door swung inwards. Stepping into the foyer, Soonyoung could tell most of the house would be similar to the state it was in outside. Outdated wallpaper adorned the walls, covered in some places by seemingly normal paintings that were held in wooden frames painted to look gold. The front desk — which was off to the right when entering — was made of a dark wood. It was completely barren of any decorations. Soonyoung’s attention wandered away from the front desk as he continued through the foyer.

“Welcome to Quiet Pines Bed and Breakfast,” a voice echoed down into the space. “Did you have a reservation or are you a walk-in?”

Soonyoung’s head whipped around until he caught sight of you standing halfway up the staircase that was tucked against a wall across from the front desk. Your expression was blank as you continued your descent down the remaining stairs. “Well? Are you looking to stay here or not?” You asked, impatience leaking into your tone.

“Y-yes,” Soonyoung stuttered. “I’m sorry, yes. I don’t have a reservation. I’m a walk-in, and my name is Kwon Soonyoung.” Soonyoung thought he saw the traces of a smile when he mentioned not having a reservation, but he chalked it up to his nerves just trying to calm him down.

“I don’t need your name,” you said, crossing the floor to stand behind the desk. “Do you have cash? The card reader is unfortunately broken and I don’t have much time to travel into town to buy a new one.”

Soonyoung fished in his pocket for his wallet, cursing when his hands came out empty. “It’s in my car. I’ll be back! My car is the red one!” He said, hurriedly making his way out of the house. He felt your eyes on him the entire time until he was out of the building and there was no way for you to stare straight into him. His composure was much calmer now that he was outside, and he walked to his car with no rush. Opening the door, his conscience screamed at him to get into the car and drive away, but the sun had already begun dipping behind the horizon and Soonyoung didn’t want to travel along an unfamiliar road in the dead of night.

Wallet in hand, he returned to the poorly kept bed and breakfast. “How much is the room? I’ll only be here for one night.”

“$60,” you said, sticking your hand out for him to place the money in. Nothing about the situation seemed right to Soonyoung, but he took out the owed amount anyways and set it onto your open palm. Your hand closed around the bills quickly as you opened a drawer and set the creased money into it. “Your room will be 5B. I’ll check in on you later to give you the rules.”

You left as swiftly as you came, heading up the stairs with silent steps. Soonyoung looked down at the key that was left on the counter. It looked like a normal house key, save for the blue tag labeled 5B attached to the loophole. Pocketing the key, Soonyoung turned to walk back to his car and retrieve his bags and haul them up the stairs to his room. The room in question was decorated similarly to the rest of the house with the same ugly wallpaper. A four poster bed sat in the middle of the room against a wall, with two matching nightstands and lamps on either side. A wardrobe sat opposite of the bed, though Soonyoung found it to be locked when he tried to pull the doors open. He thought it might just be kept here for decor rather than usefulness.

True to your word, Soonyoung heard you knocking thirty minutes after he settled into his room. He hadn’t had the chance to open the door, let alone allow you into the room, before you pushed the door open and stepped across the threshold. “How are you finding everything?”

“Very...nice,” Soonyoung hesitated, hoping he chose the right words. “Thank you.”

You smiled, but it did nothing to ease Soonyoung’s worries. If anything, it made him more tense. “I’m glad. Like I said earlier, I’m here to inform you of the rules. Shall we get started?” You asked, continuing when Soonyoung gestured for you to. “Great. First, check-out time is tomorrow at ten in the morning. Do not stay past that time. Second, do not go exploring. You may look around the common room downstairs and the sun room. Third, breakfast is at eight in the morning and will be cleaned up half an hour later. Lastly, do not try to open any locked doors. Especially the dark oak door at the end of the hallway.”

A chill shot through Soonyoung’s back as the last rule left your lips. The air between the two of you was charged with your warning and the beginnings of his fear, but he still managed to nod. “Good. I’ll be retiring to my bedroom for the rest of the night. You’re free to do as you please within the limits of the rules.” You said, closing the door as you left.

Soonyoung didn’t move an inch until he could no longer hear your footsteps. A mixture of fear and adrenaline coursed through him. He was sure there was an open-ended threat attached to the last rule. It didn’t need to be spoken for him to understand what was being implied. Soonyoung moved across the room to the door, locking it quickly before returning to his previous spot by the bed. Already he began feeling calmer knowing nobody could get through the locked door.

Eventually Soonyoung found himself tiring from the long day driving and began to settle into bed. The mattress was a lot comfier than he thought it would be considering the way it looked, and the blankets seemed to trap warmth against his body. He felt himself drift into sleep the moment his head landed on the pillow and he closed his eyes. In no time he was lulled into a comforting sleep.

Soonyoung slept peacefully for a few hours until he heard something scratching at his door. The sound was quiet, but it penetrated his room and pulled him from his sleep. Thoughts clouded by drowsiness, Soonyoung called out, “Hello?” As if set off by the sound of his voice, the scratching became more frantic, more desperate. Whatever was raking its nails against his door wanted entrance into the room.

Closing his eyes once more, Soonyoung tried to return back to sleep, but the scraping didn’t cease. It seemed more frantic as Soonyoung’s eyes fluttered open and close. Lifting his head, Soonyoung grabbed the pillow from under him and closed it around his face. It was a weak attempt to block out the insufferable scratching, but it was better than nothing.

Unfortunately for him, the scratching sound continued to penetrate past the attempted covering of his ears. Soonyoung let out a groan as he pushed the blankets from his body and stood to investigate the scratching coming from the hallway.

“What do-” Soonyoung’s words died in his throat as his gaze drifted towards the calico cat that sat in front of his door. It let out a pathetic mewl before padding down the dark hallway. Soonyoung poked his head across the threshold, keeping his gaze set on the cat. “Who are you and where are you going?”

The hallway was nearly devoid of light. There were no lamps lit or wall sconces burning light into the hallway, but the sheer curtains covering the few windows let in some moonlight. Forgetting his shoes, Soonyoung followed the cat out into the hallway. The woodboards of the floor were cold against his feet, but he continued the trek down the hallway, which seemed to stretch on for miles.

The cat let out a few meows every couple of feet, almost as if it was making sure Soonyoung was still following. Eventually Soonyoung reached the end of the hallway. There were three doors that he could see. One on either side of the hallway, and one right in front of him. The moonlight didn’t touch this section of the hallway, and it took a few minutes for Soonyoung’s eyes to adjust to the darkness that surrounded him.

He could feel the cat snaking between his legs, rubbing its head against his foot or ankle. Soonyoung didn’t think he was supposed to be here. Recalling the rules, he remembered your warning not to try to enter a locked oak door, but from his observations all the doors in the house were some type of wood, and he wasn’t too confident in his ability to tell different types of wood apart. Without thinking, Soonyoung reached for the brass door knob. He felt out of control when it came to his own movements as he turned the knob, though the door didn’t give way. It stayed stubbornly shut.

Soonyoung pulled his hand back from the knob, feeling as if he had been burned. But the same compelling sensation returned as his eyes flitted to the door to his right. He didn’t know what was happening to him, but the feeling that he just had to open that door wouldn’t leave him. With the same hand, he reached for the knob attached to the door to the room on his right, exhaling in relief when it allowed him entry.

The room was similar to the one that he had been staying in. The wallpaper was still just as ugly and an identical bed was against the wall and taking up most of the bedroom space. The sensation of the cat that had been rubbing against Soonyoung’s legs had left him, though he didn’t know when the cat had gone. Looking down the hallway, he couldn’t see it. Then he stepped across the threshold into this new room.

A layer of dust seemed to have settled over the furniture, causing Soonyoung to sneeze a few times. He tried to suppress or at least quiet the noise. Soonyoung briefly wondered if it would be rude to suggest that you buy a duster.

Continuing through the room, Soonyoung found a few items that set this room apart from the one he was supposed to be sleeping in. In place of a wardrobe, a vanity was pushed up against the wall. A white sheet covered what looked like a mirror and a few cosmetic items were scattered across the vanity. A dried out tube of lipstick laid on its side next to a closed powder container. Soonyoung’s hand drifted to the sheet covering the mirror as he readied himself to lift it.

The sound of glass shattering pulled Soonyoung back to himself and he dropped the little bit of the cover that he had begun lifting. Staying still, his eyes darted across the room to the bedside table. He could faintly make out the outline of the cat and the small porcelain object that was now broken into a hundred pieces on the floor. Letting out a shaky breath, Soonyoung crossed the room to where the cat sat.

“You are a troublemaker, aren’t you?” He whispered, lifting the cat into his arms. He smiled as the rumble of a purr came from the cat. Soonyoung scratched the cat’s soft chin, but when he pulled his hand away there was a dampness that stuck to his finger.

“What?” He murmured, bringing the finger up his nose to try to smell what the mystery substance was, but he found it to be odorless. Grimacing, Soonyoung lifted his finger to his mouth to touch it to his tongue, figuring it wasn’t anything from the cat’s bladder based on the lack of smell. A metallic tang rushed his taste buds as they came into contact with whatever was on his finger.

Soonyoung’s stomach dropped as he remembered what liquid tasted metallic. Blood. Holding the cat out in front of him, he puzzled as to why it would have blood on its chin. He couldn’t imagine that it was injured, otherwise it wouldn’t have let Soonyoung pet it. He tried to rationalize that the cat might’ve been hunting a bird or something outside before returning to him, but he knew the cat hadn’t been gone long enough for that to make sense.

Setting the cat down, Soonyoung moved away from the table and shattered object. He walked farther into the room, his attention wandering with him. The room gave off the feeling that it had been previously used, though he couldn’t tell how long ago that was. Besides the opened cosmetics laying on the vanity, the bed was unmade. Blankets were pushed around on the mattress and a few of the decorative pillows were tossed onto the floor.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a door. Light was leaking through the bottom of the door, though he couldn’t hear anything coming from the other side of it. Thankful that he didn’t have to worry about the sounds his shoes would’ve made on the floorboards, Soonyoung crossed the space between him and the poorly hidden door. Soonyoung pressed his ear against the wood, straining to hear something, anything. But no sound came through the door. Soonyoung raised his hand to grip the door handle, turning it until he heard the click that allowed him to push the door open.

Opening it just wide enough for him to peek through the crack, the light temporarily blinded him, but after a few blinks his eyes readjusted to having light. From the little bit of the room that he could see, Soonyoung noticed the walls covered with the same white sheet that was covering the vanity mirror in the room he was in. A mop was leaning against the wall closest to him, and when he was sure there wouldn’t be anyone in the room, he pushed the door open further. The room horrified him.

Red puddles were pooling around the floor. A glass cupboard holding jars of various liquids and plants — one he recognized as hemlock — was pushed into the corner of the room. A desk sat next to it with an open journal. Soonyoung tip-toed around the pools of liquid until he stood in front of the desk. Anatomical drawings detailing where to inject needles or where veins and arteries were located filled the book as Soonyoung flipped through the pages. Shakily he set the book down.

“Are you really so rude as to not follow the basic rules of my home?” Your voice was startling as it broke through the horrifying silence that had settled into the room. Soonyoung turned to look at you over his shoulder. Your lips were set in an unimpressed line as you looked at him expectantly. Sighing, you continued to speak, “It was really so simple. Stay in your room, and you get to leave. However, I’ve noticed no one likes to follow rules.”

Soonyoung’s face blanched as he realized this was the room with the locked door leading to the hallway.

“Did I tell you what happens to those who can’t follow the simplest of rules? No? Well, they’re taught how to listen,” you continued, shutting the door behind you. “Society can’t function if no one listens.”

Soonyoung’s feet were moving before he realized he was running for the door that he had used to get in. He winced as he felt his foot land in one of the bloody puddles on the floor, but he didn’t slow down. Swinging around the door frame, he continued until he was running down the hallway. He could hear your faint laughter as he passed his bedroom and nearly threw himself down the stairs in an attempt to put more distance between himself and you.

Slipping on the bottom three steps, the adrenaline that pumped through Soonyoung’s veins helped him to quickly pull himself up and rush through the front door. Once outside, the stinging of the gravel hitting his feet slowed him down slightly. He was sure his foot would be cut on a sharp rock by the time he got to his car, which he thankfully had parked close to the building.

Soonyoung pulled on the front door’s handle frantically, but it wouldn’t budge. He had locked his car after grabbing his bags and his car keys were left in the room he was staying in. “Fuck!” He shouted, as he looked around. Soonyoung didn’t have very many options for escape now that his car was crossed out. He figured he could run out to the road, but on the drive down here he hadn’t seen any sign of life and there was no way he would’ve been able to outrun your car. His next, and seemingly only, option was to run into the woods that surrounded the lot. At least there you wouldn’t be able to follow him with a vehicle.

Sucking in a shaky breath, Soonyoung took off into the forest just as he heard the front door open, slamming against the wall of the building. The wind carried your voice as you called out his name. Soonyoung had never hated the sound more than he did in that moment.

His legs burned with effort and his feet stung everytime they came in contact with the forest floor, but he needed to get away. He needed to survive. After what felt like forever, Soonyoung stopped behind a thick tree. His chest heaved as he tried to quietly catch his breath. He was completely alone in the dark. He couldn’t hear your voice calling out his name anymore.

He didn’t dare move. The world froze around him as he closed his eyes, trying to steady his heartbeat. Silently he prayed that he would make it out alive, that he would see his friends again. He promised to whatever deity might be listening to him that he would be kinder to those around him and he would right every wrong he’d ever committed.

The sound of leaves being crushed seemed to echo in the silence, but Soonyoung didn’t want to open his eyes. That would signify the end. It would mean all the running he had just done was for nothing. That there was no hope left for him. He kept them closed until he felt your presence. His breathing was shallow as he slowly began to open his eyes, filling his gaze with the image of you.

And then Soonyoung screamed.

#seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen #kpop imagines #caratwritersclub #kpop scenarios #svt #hoshi #kwon soonyoung #soonyoung #hoshi imagines #soonyoung imagines #hoshi scenarios #soonyoung scenarios #kpop

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vandaliatraveler · 10 months

Text

Day Date at Spruce Knob-Seneca Rocks National Recreation Area, Part 2. Gorgeous late spring day on the summit of Spruce Knob.

From top: View from the main overlook toward North Fork Mountain; flagged red spruce and broken Pottsville sandstone on the western-facing slope of the mountain; a close-up of a bunchberry (Cornus canadensis) "flower", characterized by four white bracts surrounding a mound of true, white to purplish flowers that will soon be replaced by edible, bright red berries; the ball-shaped, greenish-white flowers of wild sarsaparilla (Aralia nudicaulis), which cluster under the plant's umbrella-like leaves; the elegant yellow flower stalk of yellow Clintonia (Clintonia borealis), also known as bluebead lily for the porcelain blue berries that follow the flowers in late summer; a late-flowering red elderberry (Sambucus racemosa var. racemosa), also known as red-berried elder and scarlet elder, typically one of the first plants to bloom in Appalachia's higher elevations; fringed bleeding heart (Dicentra eximia), also known as turkey corn, a gorgeous perennial wildflower of Appalachia's higher mountains, much loved for its extended bloom time from spring through fall; and early azalea (Rhododendron prinophyllum), also known as roseshell azalea, a tall, hardy shrub that loves the acidic soil of the Appalachian highlands.

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star-killer-md · 4 years

Note

Hello!! May I please request “I’ll keep calling for the rest of the night if i have to, until you answer me.” with our boi Kylo? Could it be sweet with smut? Thank you so much!!! DALDOM is such a joy to read, like thank you for quenching my thirst in this drought of a time

Thank you so much for all your support babe!! Soooo, remember when I said this would be just drabbles. Well I went and wrote like what could potentially be considered a one shot and it’s probably not at all what you were looking for but it left my brain and its here now.

This is loosely based on the Mobster!Kylo x Lawyer!reader AU I’ve been fantasizing about writing for awhile, so you can just read it as modern Kylo to simplify things.

Prompt: “I’ll keep calling for the rest of the night if I have to, until you answer me.”

Warnings: nsfw, angst which y’all just need to expect by now, breaking and entering, feelings, sorta soft Kylo I think, possessive vibes

Word Count: 2k

Message number 27:

Kylo’s voice crackled out of the answering machine sounding warped as the signal cut in and out.

“You’re not getting away that easily,” he rasped. “I’ll keep calling for the rest of the night if I have to, until you answer me.”

Your inbox was well and full by now. He’d made good on his promise though. Your phone had vibrated itself off the counter at one point with the amount of incoming calls. An hour or so ago, you’d just turned it off, hiding away under a blanket in the living room and trying to control your breathing.

You knew it had been a mistake to get involved with him professionally. His business was not exactly of the ethical sort and you couldn’t have any stains on your reputation. But he’d paid handsomely, and you did enjoy the extra funding to spruce up your rundown apartment.

But it had been a grave error to ever be romantically involved with Kylo Ren. If you could call it that. There was nothing truly romantic per to say about it, possessive was a more appropriate word for him. Ren kept a collection of spoils and you simply couldn’t bare to be just another trophy anymore.

Although it seemed your greatest blunder was in trying to break things off amicably. You should have just skipped town. Should have broken your lease, took the hit to your credit and changed your name. Should have, would have, etc...

But you didn’t.

And now you were facing the consequences.

The consequences which were currently trying to break down your front door.

Footsteps, loud and heavy, pounded up the narrow hall and what was almost certainly a foot connected and splintered the wood of your lock on the first impact.

You jumped clear off the couch, landing in a heap on the floor and crawling away from the door as it swung on its hinges. The knob left a hole in the drywall as it burst open and standing in the remains was the last and first person you wanted to see.

There was a reason you’d only left a message with his assistant and slipped quietly home. There was a reason you’d taken the week off so you wouldn’t accidentally run into him looking for you at your office.

Because, no matter how much you detested what he did, you couldn’t deny how easily he’d drawn you in. Not just with money but with his air. The cloud of mystery and intrigue, risk and reward that clung to him was intoxicating. And you knew if you had to look him in the eye, he’d pull you right back to him. Have you laid out on his expensive mahogany desk, pussy dripping and cock pounding into you.

You could hear it now:

“Your fucking cunt better not take the finish off,” he’d growl into your ear, fingers down your throat to muffle any noise. “Gonna lick it clean when I’m done aren’t you?”

He was staring at you now with that same dangerous look which had enticed you in the first place. You shuddered from your place cowering in the corner.

Kylo’s massive hand wrapped around the door and slammed it back into the ruined frame before crossing the room and backing you further into the corner where you sat.

“What the hell are you—?!”

You were cut off when he yanked your upper arm harshly dragging you to your feet and caging you to the wall with his chest.

“Why the fuck didn’t you pick up?” he hissed, lips working over themselves when his jaw twitched.

“I left a message,” you stated calmly, eyes focused intently on the ground.

“No that’s bullshit and you know it,” he pounded his fist into the wall by your head.

“I meant it,” you tried to keep your voice level but your hands were shaking at your sides and he was too close and too loud. “I can’t do this anymore.”

His hand found your jaw, forcing it up towards his face, “Look at me and say that again.”

It was a challenge. A dare. Calling your bluff.

You took a breath.

His eyes were so pretty though when you finally met them, all the nerve drained out of you. Kylo looked so...enraged, enraptured, betrayed. And you just couldn’t. But you had to.

The words were soft when they slipped past your lips, “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Can’t do what?” he demanded.

His eyes were flicking all over your face, from your mouth to your eyes and back again.

You didn’t know how to explain that he scared you. Not him entirely, but what you felt for him, what he did to you was terrifying. It was an addiction you couldn’t shake and you needed to go cold turkey or you’d be stuck in this back and forth forever.

“What?!” his voice cracked as the shout left him. “What am I not paying you enough? What more do you want?”

“I don’t want anything—“

“No, no, no,” he cut you off again, hands wrestling against you until he gripped the outside of your thighs and hoisted them around his waist. Your skirt rode up your back and left you nearly exposed to the chill of the apartment.

“Kylo, please,” you struggled in his grasp.

Your hands were so small on his chest, barely contained by the blue dress shirt he wore. He was hard in his pants, you could feel the length of him pressing into your core. Your name left his lips right before they crashed into yours.

You tried to push back, to seal your mouth shut and turn your head but his kisses were your weakness. Few and far between and gut wrenching every time and he knew it. Knew what he did to you. And you couldn’t help but yield to his onslaught, letting him lick into your mouth and trace your teeth.

He was like a fine wine, or what you imagined people meant when they said that. It all tasted the same to you, but Kylo was more delicious than any of it. And you drank him down despite the little voice in your head telling you to bite his tongue and get as far away from him as possible. Somewhere he couldn’t track you down.

But really, you knew that was futile, because Kylo Ren could find you anywhere. Once he sunk his teeth in, there would be no getting away without blood on your hands. So you kissed him back and didn’t protest when his lips wandered down your neck, leaving a trail of marks in his wake.

“You can’t,” he mumbled into your skin.

Kylo’s hands shifted, fumbling in between your bodies until his fingers found the soaked fabric of your underwear. He ran his thumb along your slit, groaning at how your pussy dripped for him.

“Can’t what?” you gasped, as he circled your clit through the cotton.

He tore his hand away and fumbled with his belt buckle, freeing his cock from the confines of his pants. You felt him push your panties to the side and rub the hot head of his length against your lips. He was so warm, so big, so right, so exactly what you always wanted.

His face was pressed firmly into the crook of your neck, and there was a distinct wetness there and his chest shook when he breathed in the scent of your laundry detergent and perfume.

“You can’t leave me too.”

The words were nearly lost in the fabric of your shirt, muffled and strange in his mouth and whatever inkling of resolve you’d had earlier that day shattered like glass in the path of a bullet. You’d never heard him sound like that before. He didn’t say things like that, didn’t tell you things like that. Things that mattered. Things that hurt.

Kylo rutted his hips against you, coating his cock in your essence and making you squirm as he pressed against your clit with every stroke.

“Say it,” he sounded so far away, “say you don’t want me.”

You knew you should. You should tell him to go or call the cops—he had broken in after all—saddle him with legal fees, make some other lawyer get him out of his messes. But there were a lot of things you should be doing, like drinking more water or getting eight hours of sleep or covering your face in pureed cucumber or any number of other things on all those stupid self care lists that normal people absolutely couldn’t have the time for.

So you said nothing, just shook your head and rolled your hips to meet him, tugging on his hair until he pulled back to face you. His eyes were rimmed red, dark circles puffy underneath and you thought it might be nice to slather yourself in cucumber smoothie if he was there with you.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, “I’m sorry, I’ll stay.”

And you choked on the next words out of your mouth as Kylo dives into you, thrusting straight in to the hilt. You feel the sweet sting of him stretching you open, filling you to the brim and you know you’ll never feel this with anyone else. No matter how shady and unethical and terrifying he is, Kylo is not the kind of man you find twice.

He isn’t taking his time, the way he’s fucking you into the wall—bucking his hips into you at a frantic pace and making you whine—it isn’t for pleasure. No, you can tell by the way he’s keeping you close, not trying to change his angle to get deeper, he wants to be as near to you as possible.

You realize distantly, as he’s rubbing quick circles around your clit with the pad of his thumb, that this is the first time he’s ever been to your place. You're not entirely surprised he knew where you lived despite that. Maybe you’d invite him to stay the night, maybe he'd actually be there when you woke up.

But that was probably just a pipe dream.

It didn’t really matter, not when he was bringing you so close, not when he was still kissing you and biting at your lips like a man starved. His pace began to stutter, rhythm faltering as he neared his climax.

“Kylo—oh fuck,” you moaned low and long as he bounced you on his dick.

“Cum for me,” he rasped out.

And you would.

And you did.

Because you always did what he asked, no matter how dirty it made you feel.

So you came screaming his name so loud the neighbors had to have heard it, and he tumbled right over the precipice at the clenching of your cunt around him. You felt him deeply, painting thick ropes of hot release along your walls until it dripped out around his cock. He didn’t move for a while, just dropped his head back down to your shoulder and waited for your breathing to even out.

After a few moments, he unhooked your legs from his waist, letting his softening length slip from you as your feet landed back on solid ground. You looked up at him, hands resting on his forearms and took him in—dark waves frizzy around his head with sweat and shirt wrinkled from where your nails had gripped the fabric. He tucked himself away, fastening his belt and you watched how his fingers moved nimbly on the buckle.

“So,” you mused.

There was still some hint of more in his gaze, something that hadn’t quite been blocked out. And he cleared his throat, humming in response.

“Does that offer for a higher salary still stand or?”

All the tension melted from his face as it fell back to the familiar deadpan, blank stare you’d become so accustomed to over the last few months. Kylo shook his head at you, eye twitching almost imperceptibly. You couldn’t help but smile, even as his frown deepened.

Who were kidding? This was the best gig you were ever going to get, and Kylo was a ride you weren’t willing to give up quite so soon. You were sure now you couldn’t escape him even if you tried.

‘Never get involved with the Mob,’ that was a thing people said right?

People also told you to ‘go to law school,’ and look where that had gotten you: involved with the Mob.

Oh well, at least you’d never be bored.

#kylo ren x reader #obsessionprofessional #dr. b answers #dr. b talks #mobster!kylo #lawyer!reader #kylo ren x female reader #kylo ren smut #drabble night #requests #I wrote this at work and it was wayyy longer than I meant it to be #I hope you like it dear

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the-crows-typist · 3 years

Note

I’d like to request a ficlet of Sebek x f!mc with the random word as Romantic. Thank you!

EDIT: A big thank you to Poyo @starry-eyes-inc for proofreading this ficlet. They're a peach and a wonderful writer, please consider checking out their works.

The Possibilities are Endless

“One day I’ll take you with me, to the places beyond the door.”

“Dearly beloved,”

The letters you received from him were all beautifully written, all full of wit, all full of the unique charm of the man you came to love. Sebek was archaic in his ways of saying ‘I love you’, his letters were a testament to that. It was a silly thing, really, but you couldn’t hide the excitement that came when a letter would come to you.

It even provided you a semblance of comfort while he was away.

“I’ve arrived in my hometown last night and my back is still sore from the long ride. I’m currently resting in a nice inn just a few hours away from home and it’s really nice, very cozy, and the blankets are so fluffy. I hope you also stay safe too, I’ll see you soon.”

I love you.

Sincerely,

Sebek Zigvolt”

Within the envelope was a photograph of the view with Sebek smiling before it. Behind it was a note: “The breakfast place has a wonderful view of the mountains. One day, I’ll take you here and we can enjoy some waffles together. – Sebek”

You set the letters aside and using a special tape, you stick the picture over the wall amongst the many pictures you’ve shared together. One picture of you two hugging, the other Sebek kissing your cheek, and one where it was taken by someone else with the two of you in a dancing pose. Placing the letter down, you thought back on the fond memories you’ve had with him, the way he laughed at the attempted dance, the squeal you made when he twirled you around, and the feeling of your foreheads linking together at the end.

He was so expressive with his love for you.

“Please come back home safely.” You say, pressing a kiss on the letter.

Your heart hurt, having to sleep alone in a bed shared for two. You hugged his pillow close, breathing it the scent of the shampoo he loved to use. You wanted him back soon. You wanted to hug him.

You found the second letter two days later after when you came home from work. The envelope is the color of satin, Sebek’s initials written on the side with shimmering green ink and a stamp seal of rosy red. You set your things down next to you and you break the seal with a nearby letter opener.

“To the love of my life,

I got to my parents’ house and they really spruced up the place! With the Halloween season coming up, everything is decorated with pumpkins and bats. There are lots of candies in the bowl too. They asked about you, how you are, and if you’re doing well. My father wants you to join the family dinner this Christmas.

It’s his turn to cook this year so you’ll be able to taste his signature chicken pot pies. He says his favorite daughter-in-law will love his signature dish so he’ll make lots and lots just for you.

Oh, and my mother has a little something for you but…I’ll keep that a secret until I come back to you.

I miss you dearly.

Sincerely,

Sebek Zigvolt.”

The picture accompanied with the letter showed Sebek with his family at the dinner table. He was a splitting image of his father in many ways, his eyes warm just like his mother’s, and his smile just as jolly and wide as his grandparents’. “My father wants you to join the family dinner this Christmas.”

Your shoulders sag, a warm smile on your lips.

Suddenly, you couldn’t wait for Christmas to come along.

The picture was pinned to the wall and the letter joining the previous one on the table. By the fireplace, you saw the different family pictures of yours and Sebek’s. A trip to the lake, a brunch at an eatery with his mother and yours, the group picture you had during a get together. What a chaotic time that was, seeing both of your fathers laughing with each other, and your mothers speaking to each other over drinks. You and Sebek held each other’s hands under the table, happy to see them get along.

“We should have a picture together.” Said your mother, taking out an old camera of hers. One that she kept with her always. Both you and your fathers huddle together for a group picture.

“Say cheese!”

You slept that night with a warm heart.

The next few days were silent, no letters coming in during the nights you rested and the days you worked. Sebek was strong, there was no doubt about it, but there was a fear at the back of your mind that something happened to him. Something bad. You gripped the shawl around you one cold night, thinking of the possibilities, the dread of hearing the painful news…

Until the knocking on the door snapped you out of your panicked thoughts.

The mailman tipped his head to you, a rose tinted envelope with a thick purple stamp seal was handed to you. You thanked him and gave him some food for him to eat, knowing well the long distances one had to take to deliver them.

Taking your letter opener, you quickly opened the stamp seal and opened the envelope. The smell of spring wafted into your nose, pressed flowers falling out of the envelope. Sebek’s letter was written in rich, black ink and his name signed with shimmering green.

His favorite color to use to write to you.

“My one and only,

I don’t know how well this letter will be sent while I’m on board the train but I hope that this letter finds its way to you quickly. I’ve forgotten how beautiful the sights are; the rolling mountains, the small streams that paved the way, the beautiful flower fields. Great seven, I wish you were here to see it with me.

I’ll be home soon. I can’t wait to tell you about my trip…And I can’t wait to give you your surprise.

I love you and I can’t wait to be with you again.

Sincerely,

Sebek Zigvolt.”

A sigh of relief, a feeling of comfort had washed over you; the letter gripped and close to your chest. On the very bottom of the letter was a pressed petal taped to it. It smelled sweet and the color vibrant, you wonder to yourself how Sebek managed to snag these as he boarded the train home.

His most recent letter sits on the pile under the pictures.

He was on his way home; you were going to see him again.

You were too excited to sleep that night.

The smell of something cooking roused you from your sleep, the smell of tea, and the cracking of the firewood within the flames of the fireplace. You pushed yourself up off the bed and looked around the warm bedroom, blinking furiously.

On your nightstand isa letter with a beautiful necklace on top of it. An amethyst gem suspended by the golden chain that shone against the yellow-orange light of the fireplace. The letter had no envelope, the paper a light purple and the ink is the same rich black from the previous letter.

“My love,

I came home early this morning, a surplus of carriages allowed me to do so. I was happy to come home despite the late hour but I couldn’t find it in my heart to rouse you from your rest, I know you’re tired. On this letter you’ll find a necklace, something my mother found in an antique jewelry box in her vanity.

She wanted you to have and she asked that you take care of it from now on. She says that there is no doubt in my mind that it would look fantastic on you and I agree with her sentiments.”

There was a tinkering of cutlery, the sound of someone pouring tea and coffee, the pull of a chair, and the familiar footsteps of one man that was dear to you.

“There’s so much I want to tell you, I want to tell you everything about my trip, the shops I’ve seen, the places I’ve gone too, the many things I want you to see.”

There was a knock on the door and the turn of your bedroom’s door knob.

“I don’t know where to begin with how it went but…There is one thing I want to start with.”

There was that laugh from the doorway, a tray of food was placed on a nearby table.

“I’m home, I’m finally home my love.

And I can’t wait to have breakfast with you again.

I love you. So much.

Sincerely,

Sebek Zigvolt.”

“You always have a way with words.” You say, pushing off the sheets to stand up and falling into an embrace with him. His arms around your neck and yours around his waist. “I missed you so much.” He said into your ear. “I did too. Your letters really helped me out.”

“I can tell. You pinned the photos I sent you to the wall.” He chuckled, holding you by your shoulders. “I was not expecting that at all.”

“And I wasn’t expecting you to come home early and make breakfast. C’mon,” you hook an arm around his waist. “Let’s eat. I’m starving.”

“Of course.”

“Sebek?”

“Hm?”

You tipped your toes, kissing him on the cheek.

“Welcome home.”

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twst x female reader #sebek zigvolt #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek x reader #twst sebek x reader #sebek headcanons #works from the typewriter

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howlingday · 4 years

Note

Jaune with his arms crossed looking impatient, nora sees him and copies him.

"You have five minutes to come out of there, Oscar."

Nora poked her head around the corner and found Jaune standing in front of Oscar's bedroom door, with his arms crossed in front of his chest and a scowl on his face. This was odd. Jaune normally wasn't this... What's the word? Bossy, but fancier?

Nora skipped up to her team leader, regardless of his sourpuss state.

"What's up, Jaune?"

"Oscar locked himself in his room. He was supposed to do the laundry this week, and the pile is as high as Ruby."

"It is not that tall," came a shout from behind the door.

"Hyperbole won't get laundry done faster, Oscar! I'm running out of underwear out here!" Jaune felt something scratch his belt. "Nora. Now is not the time." A swift and passing sensation left his backside. He glanced left and saw Nora making the same face as him. The same posture as him, the same arm cross position; Nora was either mocking her leader or standing with him in solidarity. He hoped it was the latter.

"You have three minutes! Get crackin', kiddo!" Jaune internally chuckled and smiled. Maybe having Nora in on this will help motivate Oscar.

Two, long minutes pass with no progress. Jaune sighed. What is going on with Oscar? It's just laundry. The teams haven't been working too hard; worst case was Grimm control outside of Mantle, and even then, the Grimm were never bigger than an Ursa.

A poke to Jaune's arm broke his thoughts. He glanced and saw Nora put her hand on the thermostat. His blood ran cold. "Nora," Jaune began calmly, hoping to defuse the rapidly escalating situation, "don't do it."

Nora giggled and twisted her palm. "Oops! My hand slipped!" She then gripped the dial and yanked it off of it's base.

The sweat on Jaune's brow from terror became swiftly washed away by his body's natural reaction to heat. He faced the door and banged on it. " Oscar! This tantrum or whatever is going on with you will have to wait! Nora just cranked up the heat and tore off the knob! I'll see about getting it fixed. If you do the laundry, great! If not, we'll come back to it later! Just-!" Jaune wasn't able to finish his thought. Possibly never would as he was interrupted by a loud and overly-exaggerated moan.

"It's sooooooooooo hot~! Maybe this dial will cool me off?" Nora placed the dial into her bra. Her white bra. "And these clothes certainly aren't! I'll just have to take them off~!" Nora walked away, tossing her shirt off before turning a corner... with her pants flying out from the turn. "If it gets hotter, I might just have to lose my panties, too~!"

Jaune was red in the face. Whether it was from the temperature or the other "heat", he couldn't tell. But what he could tell was that Nora was a genius in her own way. Oscar was a timid young man on the cusp of puberty. If the thought of his friends walking around in their underwear didn't make him feel uncomfortable, nothing will.

Jaune unbuckled his belt and dropped his jeans. "Yeah! It sure is hot out here! I might just lose my boxers, too!" Acting wasn't Jaune's forte, but you don't need Spruce Willows skills to fight Grimm anyways.

The door swung open as Oscar dashed out, sweating as if he was made of ice, and running into the laundry room like he was on fire. "I'M GOING! I'M GOING!" He cried as he ran past Jaune.

Nora rounded the corner as the laundry door came shut. "Did it work?"

"Yeah. Now, to fix the thermostat." Jaune extended his hand. "Hand me the dial."

Nora extended her hand. "No."

Jaune cocked an eyebrow. "Beg your pardon?"

Nora cocked hers. "Did I stutter?" A mischievous grin grew on her face. "You want it?" She puffed out her chest. "Come get it."

Jaune face-palmed, then wiped down on his face, his hand slick with sweat as he reached into her bra. She responded by slipping a hand up into his shirt. Failing to find it there, he shifted over to the other side. Nora followed suit.

"Where is it?" Asking more himself than Nora. Her smile grew more sinister. "If it's not in your bra..." His face paled as he realized. He looked down to Nora's panties. He didn't see a bulge out the front, so he didn't have to reach down there. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Well?" Nora asked, knowing full well his answer. "If it's not in my bra and it's not IN FRONT of my panties..."

Jaune's face grew hotter from this new information. He withdrew his hand from Nora's bra, taking extra care not to accidentally cause a wardrobe malfunction, and slipped it into the back of her panties. Nora returned to favor in kind her hand.

Jaune found the dial resting just below the border of the top. He suspected she chose here, opting to look more like a bunny rabbit, instead of a toddler who missed the bathroom. He swiftly removed his hand and reinstalled the dial, thoughtlessly turning the dial back into a less than oven setting.

Jaune sighed in relief as the heat died and he felt a cold wind pass all over him.

Except for his chest and backside.

Jaune looked down and saw Nora hugging Jaune, with her arms wrapped around his sides and both hands firmly gripping his butt.

"Nora?" She hummed a response. "You can let go now."

She simply dug her face further into his chest. "No."

Jaune sighed and gave in. He hugged her in return, placing his head on hers, and his hands on her butt.

#rwby #jaune arc #nora valkryie #oscar pine #nora's arc #my answers

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lixiefe · 4 years

Text

The Sins’ Aid

Episode 1: “I ended up, oh- where the hell?!” - Yang Jeongin

↳ Summery: Wherein a depressed guy moves into a haunted house that was rented for cheap. But what he doesn't expect to be there are seven wicked demons, each corresponding to a deadly sin. Instead of them being dangerous, they’re incredibly friendly and they're trying to get him back to his feet; along with helping him to woo his long time crush, who he could only peek at as a secret admirer.

↳ Disclaimer: Yang Jeongin here is not a psychologically diagnosed depressed person. He just bears a weak mental capacity and extreme nervous system driven by anxiety. I’ve made him so solely for the sake of the story. I personally don’t see him like this. This Jeongin has no correlation with the Yang Jeongin whatsoever.

↳ Type and Warning: It’s like a self-building process of the main character from a feeble to a confident persona, paired with comedy and humor. Self indulgent, but I don’t think mc will appear any time soon. As for warnings, there are descriptions of anxiety or negative thoughts one can have, but they’re portrayed as funnily as my boring self can.

↳ Words: 1.8k

“So, what do you think? This is the cheapest I can find for you,” the consultant spoke in gloom, the faint resonation of street bustle being an ally to the deafening silence that consumed the entire room. The healthy woman advanced the stapled sheet of paper towards the fiddling boy, who’d only clutched to the strap of his backpack since the beginning.

“I understand, aunt.”

After coming into the racketing and packed up atmosphere of Seoul from the confines of serene and peaceful Busan, Jeongin was not at all prepared for the financial crisis that’d follow up his butt in a few months. And lords, he was not at every all prepared to move into an abandoned house with bad history, alone. The cheap rate of the house was what kept him going, because hell, how could such a wealthy looking house be rented for so cheap; that he could afford it with his recent part time chicken job?

He’d have said that the god of ultimate thrift had found him, had bestowed him the pleasure of such cheap rates, but umm, haunted house? Even though he’d grown up believing ghosts and spirits or such didn’t exist, the fear didn’t halt from creeping up his legs with determinate domination.

However, he hadn’t a choice.

“I’ll take it.” Jeongin sighs a whiff of courage, stepping up as he took the slippery pen in his hands. With quick and swift gestures, the parchment was now an evidence that he was an official tenant of the haunted house. He looked at his own signature in distaste, god was that ugly, but it was finally done. Done.

“Oh yes, I forgot to tell you, you’d need to clean the house yourself. That is unless, you hire someone.”

“What!?”

That big- abandoned for how many years- old enormous house?

He was in for a ride.

Jeongin was never among the temperament, was never the type to lose his mind over a simple packing up, much less the type to cry over the stuff he knew he’d have to throw away, or so he thought. In any case, he was sentimental, extreme level emotional. So here he was, weeping over his five years old sweatshirt that didn’t even fit him anymore. The university had given him a two month time to search for a new home, which resulted in him sorting out all his belongings in the cramped room.

Yang Jeongin was semi-reliant on both his pink clothes and his worn out bunny slippers. They were his sanity. But now that he’s lost 1.5 percent of his sanity, his lips had taken a permanent turn downwards, rosy cheeks complimenting his red nose. People would say it’s silly; completely childish to cry over clothes, but no one can really realize how important these are for someone who’d had such reliance on materialistic things. As much as Jeongin did anyways.

Jeongin’s remaining sanity debauched away in angry smokes emerging from both of his ears as he took in the sight of the house he was going to live in. His crippling trepidation aside; speaking facts would be, this house ooked like dictionary bad news.

With his luggage by his side and eyes peering over the all gray walls of the now ash-brick Victorian mansion, he was stunned. It was like a gothic castle; magnificent in its artistic splendor, lonely, haunted and windswept. It seemed like the architect had a foresight to build it strong, with narrow windows deeply etched onto the wall and jutting stones placed at the corners. Even so, it wasn’t as terrifying as it was supposed to. There was no haunting portcullis squares that could shred him to pieces, nor was there haunting, spiky grills that’d snatch his soul. However, present there was, a tempestuous whirlwind of horror pervading his guts every second.

It was just a gothic mansion, a small one at that.

Everything was clean. Raking his eyes from the grandiloquent chandelier to the impassive numberless stairs in the middle to the feather-cushions and leather fittings tightened on the dexterous woodwork, Jeongin felt even more tumult nerves spiking his system. Spick and span, not a single atom of dirt to be seen in the immaculately arranged furniture and on the spruce tiled floor. Wait- tiled floor?

He shouldn't be afraid.

As if that would happen.

Sheer and pure, unfiltered and damning panic, it was all Jeongin knew as he walked past the grille and stepped through the opening gates of the old house. He came all prepared after hours of whining over the foreboding that he’d have to clean a whole house, since it was well abandoned. But the interior wasn’t dirty at all. In fact, it was the opposite.

Jeongin knew perfectly well how weak-minded he was, how easy it was to shatter his mental piece into innumerable remnants. And he also knew that, this house was not supposed to be clean. His irises trembling and fear creeping up his mind, he tried his best to stay calm as he plodded through the white floorage. His knuckles had adopted a shade of white due to the tight grip on his backpack, but he kept walking. Maybe he could check the rooms? Maybe they’d only kept the front clean?

This reminded him of every horror movies he’d watched and snickered with the thought of the protagonists foolishness. He’d mocked and despised them for their pompous courage, because curiosity kills the cat and they should’ve known that. But not now, not when he’s doing the exact same in broad daylight.

Jeongin visibly shuddered as he neared a polished door. It was as if the door was new, renovated and engraved with intricate wood-work he’d seen only in museums. In all honesty, it looked like the luxury he’d never signed for, and exactly like the haunted knobs of those movie magnimous mansions.

Thrilling nerves like never before, and chest throbbing with maximum speed, it’s crossed the grand and ostentatious horror he’d felt when he watched ‘The Nun’ in theaters. It unmatched any other times he’d gotten surprise heart-attacks and surpassed the ultimate horror when he’d been scared shitless in his underwear at the middle of a birthday night. Because nobody preferred shining lights and buzzing candles on the verge of roasting them alive at twelve a.m.

With the faux courage he’d maneuvered with his footsteps, Jeongin extracted a hand for the door knob. Slowly, like the movie protagonists he’d hated and quaveringly, like his mind screamed at him to, his fingers neared and neared the shiny piece of metal.

Don’t do it. Don’t do it. Don’t do it. But here he was, fingers tracing the cold outlines of the knob and twisting it open.

It bested and rubbished any other of his wrought with fear life experiences.

Because there was an all-black man laying down in orderly crimson silk-sheets in a room that rendered him erroneous. The entire room in such luxurious glamor and unexpected neatness that it had him baffled, because who on earth was this mysterious man!? Unrelated to his bafflement, but that's all he can think about. Maybe it was the superiority of the situation, or the vigorous trepidation of his wavering heart; or maybe it was the utter and simple fact that, this is horrific and severely cryptic; however it was, Jeongin hadn’t the mental strength to handle such bombshell.

“Oh my god!”

Heavy vignette and grains of static panic was all he knew as the man groaned and jolted awake, spluttering coherencies that weren’t really coherent for Jeongin, at the very least.

Because before he had the sanity and stability to discern what the hell was happening, he was out cold.

In broad daylight.

The first thing Jeongin feels as soon as he opens his eyes are pure, abundant and horrifying whiplash of hysterical disquiet. The first thing he sees with his desultory pair of orbs are a tuft of seven affixed heads and seven pair of curious, scrutinizing eyes that bore into his soul like greedy miners in a gold hunt. And the first thing he voices out is a traumatized, high pitch scream through his strained vocal cords.

And like the horror movie protagonists he’d hated.

“He looks like an infant.”

“He might, but I look innocent too.”

“For the sake of almighty, you do not at all look innocent. You’re a fucking demon!”

“I have asked this before, and I’ll ask again. What- is a kid doing here?”

“Do you mind? I mean I don’t. Look at him! So cute-”

“Shut up everyone, he’d opening his eyes!”

“STOP!” he screams, catching the wee bit attention span of what looked like grown men. They all pause altogether, the chaos alleviated, screams assuaged, inner peace resurrected and situational whatever mitigated; Jeongin gives them a hard glare. It goes on in quietness for a few, before the tallest of them all, the one with a beautiful mess of black hair, magnetizing cat eyes and too much of attractive lips speaks up,

“Who- who are you guys!?”

He screams yet another time, hands grasping the silk sheet and hips moving themselves as far into the mattress as they can. He sees the seven men scramble among themselves in utter chaos, bumping their heads with an audible thud and tangling themselves in the mismanaged circle they’d created.

Jeongin’s even more terrified at their botched antics and disorderly falling down than he was of their presence. But he has screamed enough, strained his fresh awoken throat enough; yet the simple turmoil of the situation forces him to shriek in with unintentionally unified harmony, mingling with the strangers’ squeaks of unedited mayhem.

I ended up, oh- where the hell!?

And then, after a good five minutes of tumbling, falling, tangling and again tumbling and falling and everything in desynchronized commotion, Jeongin’s had enough.

“He looks so cute, I accept no criticism,”

That’s when Jeongin realizes that he is, in fact, a basic attention phobic. And through the saga of assertive responses, Jeongin doesn’t realize how or when he has fallen into the depth of hollow-stricken darkness and the uncanny pure silence in the midst of voices he could see through the back of his mind.

And yet again, his weak heart had failed him and he’d submitted into another few hours of unconsciousness.

Episode one ends in author's chaotic planning.

HAH.

I have no idea how this turned out, but it's definitely gonna be better when the sins' start appearing. Maybe...ksdejkk.

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thevoilinauttheory · 3 years

Text

Ink Long Dry: Roses

Character(s): Maximiloix Voilinaut, Danny Harold Content Warnings: descriptive eye injury, burns What: An aftermath Notes: A tag for @renofmanyalts for implied mentions of Danyell Dwynwen, and @donpom-loredex for a continuation of a current thread.

---

His clothes were still soaked, even by the time he arrived back to the scene of the attack. Wool as heavy as his footsteps, heels over cart tracks left in the mud. It had departed already, which Maximiloix was thankful for, having left behind a trail of ash and charcoal - some still flickering with sparks. He brushed back branches and leaves as he pushed himself further into the woods, where he had pulled Danny. No one had seen him, leaving the man unconscious for the past few bells. He brought himself down to his knees in front of him, pulling the mask from his face.

Maximiloix kept his eye on the mask, brushing his fingers over the surface to ascertain the damage. He couldn’t see it - not like this. He could see the fluctuations in his aether, sputtering in and out with his shallow breaths; he could see how it was fighting against another, something not his own, yet mingled almost perfectly. But the injuries? He pulled up his eyepatch, squinting with the light; he rubbed his fingers over his eyes, opening them slowly. The vision bled in slowly - it gave him a headache, seeing both aetherial signatures against the sights. They blinked open further when his gaze fell to his student’s injuries - far graver than he had thought.

“Avis - it is time to get up.” The response was a heavy breath. Danny’s head shifted, but he didn’t stir fully until a hand was placed on his shoulder. “Mngh? Where… Where am--” He shook his head, gripping to the left side of his head, palm pressed to his eye. “M’head hurts bad… m’tired…” “I know…” Maximiloix let out a sigh of relief, running his nails up through his hair. “Master Voilinaut? ...please don’ be mad…” “Mad? Avis, I am worried, not mad. You are in bad shape, let us get you home. I will heal you proper there.”

He draped Danny’s arm over his shoulder, using what strength he could muster to get the man to his feet - and wheezing when the full weight of his body was pressed against him for support. Danny’s feet almost dragged, shaking from reconstruction; his body heavy and sore. He groaned in pain with each step.

When they had made it back, Danny promptly fell into his bed - a longer groan, the pain truly setting in when he rested. Maximiloix kept to his side, using what magic he could to keep it from being unbearable. “...Everythin’ hurts… head hurts th’worst.” “I know.” “Yer not mad?” “Why would I be?” “...Got m’self inta trouble ‘gain.” “This time is different - this time involves lives, not distractions from your lessons. Now… rest. Please rest.”

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

Maximiloix strolled through the Bower, eye shifting from a piece of paper to the stalls, while he ran an errand for his grandson. He could overhear a group of merchants and traders, keeping his visible attention elsewhere.

“No one’s seen ‘em for the past few days’r so. All them attacks just gone!” “Yeah, s’been real quiet.” “Y’know what they say about that - calm before the storm.” “Nah - I heard one Wailer sayin’ they caught ‘em.” “Like hells they did, what took them so long! I think they’d’ve killed him instead.” “Might be dead?” “Might’ve just upset the Wood.” “Either way.”

The rumors were all over the place - swallowed by the Wood, Wailers caught him, Wailers did him in… every one of them ended as if the Masked Man had finally been rid of, that no one would see sight of him again. Perhaps that was true - Danny had not stepped from his apartment in some time. Maybe he’d visit.

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

Maximiloix obtained the chance to visit Danny two days after. When he tried to push the door open, it had been blocked off by a side table - refusing to budge. He let out an annoyed sigh. “Get out! Get out now!” He could feel the same fear Danny felt when he had first found him. “I will not - are you well?” Maximiloix reached an arm through the crevice of the door, squishing his body against the frame to attempt scooting the table from under the knob. It wasn’t working. “No, I ain’t! M’already a swivin’ freak, now… now s’jus’ pathetic.” He let out a huff from his nose as he stood up. “Jus’ like y’tryin’ t’move th’table.” He moved the table for his mentor, letting him inside - he kept his face covered, using his foot to push the table.

“What’re y’doin’ here.”

“Checking in on you, of course. You have not left in almost a sennight, and I suspect someone is beginning to worry about your whereabouts.” “...I don’ wanna see ‘im.” “Do not lie to me.” “...I don’ want him t’see me.” “So you would rather hide from him - never see him again?” Danny had his words turned on him, a response stuttered in his throat. “N-No, that’s not-- I--... is there no way to fix it?” Maximiloix wandered himself to the kitchen, pulling up a pot to start some tea. “Fix what?”

Danny turned around. The mask that he wore was still in place, charred - the paint peeled and melted, scorch marks from the chin up - it was broken, leaving only his left eye revealed…

If there were an eye to reveal. No, instead there were roses - rich in red, deep in crimson. He watched as the broad white petals of a winter rose fight its way from the socket of his eye, watched as the bright yellow begonia petals unfolded, watched as a group of snakeworts tangled with the branches of willow, slowly seeping down his face like tears. The image made him grimace. ( He felt them, the soft petals pouring out. They would grow over the rest of his wounds, soothing them. These petals - these petals, however. They stung, they mocked him. The twists of the stems and branches, leaves that unfolded inside, they made him twitch - how hollow his head felt. The burn scar beneath them grew small stems, small leaves, pushing through the skin. He tried not to pick at the strangely cold sensation. They spread wide and round, lily-pads across fire - and much like him - smelled of mint. )

“Ah… no, there is not. Not without dire consequences.”

Danny let out a heavy sigh and threw himself on his bed, sitting up against the headboard. He curled his knees up and hugged himself. “...He’s gonna be livid.” “Livid? Avis, he would be anything but livid - you misjudge him as you do I. What reason does he have to be angry?” “...Avoidin’ him.” Maximiloix pursed his lips, folding his arms over his chest. “I suppose that would be an issue.” “N’ gettin’ m’self caught up like that ‘gain…” “From what I saw, it seems you do not have a say in that matter.” “Even if he weren’t, s’not like he’d ever look at me ‘gain.” “If he found you that unsightly, he would have left moons ago.” “Still...” White clusters of roseum sprouted from his arms, spruce needles growing over some of his vines, the flowering branches of chasteberry replacing a few.

“M’beginnin’ t’see what ‘e meant by snowstorms.”

#prompt #ink long dry #history will be written #about: Danny Harold #about: Maximiloix Voilinaut #songs in the trees #the cold truth #summer snowdrops #two in a row!#because I have the time to and don't want to forget

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