#removed all because of no room but couldn’t get them out in time to prevent my other teeth from shifting | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stylesispunk · 5 months

Text

Waiting room

Joel Miller x f! reader

summary: A few years ago, Joel saved your life and you have loved him ever since but he didn't reciprocate your feelings or that's what you thought. word count: 2,5k a/n: I didn't write a chapter for "The Not so Invisible String" series but wrote this. I would appreciate receiving reblogs and comments. Happy reading!

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

"What happened to me?" you questioned, your curiosity seeking answers.

"I found you," the stranger replied. "You had slept for two days."

In two days, you changed the rules of the game.

In two days, Joel came across with his humanity when he found you laying on the ground after being beaten up by some smugglers.

And what a plot twist you were.

You were so young and naïve when the world broke into a mess, and the reminisces of your old life before were just fogging memories threatened to be erased completely by the clouds of your head. You had forgotten your mother’s voice, the taste of the cookies she baked on Sunday’s afternoons, and the essence of her perfume enveloping you in embraces you were never going to get back.

You still craved a lingering, real sort of comfort that hadn’t come. In this world, emotions make you weak, and being weak means you die.

The closest thing to caring you received from someone was from Joel. The day he found you, he treated your wounds, he prevented you from dying by starving himself, and he fed you with his food.

“I broke my rules for you.” He peeped once you recovered, but still, he let you stay.

Through the months and years, you had become accustomed to the idea of him and Tess being the only people you could trust; they were older and wiser than you, a perk but also a source of constant disappointment over the idea of you being seen as the foolish, weak kid.

You felt a burden. You were a constant troublemaker, getting into trouble with everyone who seemed to mess with you, but under some eyes, you were still Joel’s girl, just that you really weren’t. You just idealize the idea of it.

Because every time somebody hit you, he was there, and if that wasn’t love, what the fuck was it?

You knew that there was something between them beyond a simple partner-in-crime relationship. They weren’t what you would call lovers, but there was unspoken language between them you couldn’t decipher, not because you were a fool but because you weren’t a part of them.

Because you weren’t important,

You didn’t know if Joel cared about you coming back.

You were just someone Joel found almost dying.

Whereas for you, he was the closest thing you felt to home.

"Where were you?" his voice called out in the middle of the dark room, breaking the silence of the eerie night.

“God, you scared me,” you answered. "I thought you were asleep."

"You know I don't go to sleep unless I know you're here." His voice was so sharp it could cut in half.

Liar.

“You are asleep other times,” you acknowledged, trying to remove your boots without whimpering as the pain settled in your bones. “And I'm here. You can go to sleep now," you hissed, out of frustration but also from the pain emanating from cuts.

"No."

"Well, I'll go then," you replied.

“Come here, show me,” he demanded.

“No.”

“Come here,” he repeated, frustrated this time.

“I said, “

“Now!” the raised tone sent shivers down your spine, forming a lump in your throat.

You were there, not moving, and he was closer. The dim light in the room cast eerie shadows as he examined your face, his fingertips tracing the evidence of the scars painted on your skin.

The cut on your bottom lip throbbed with each breath. A bruise, vividly purple, marred the skin around your eye, testimony to the violence that had been part of it and the cut on your nose, which seemed to be broken.

Not only do you face hurt, but all your body is carrying the consequences of a beating you didn’t think you deserved. Your bones felt crushed under the pressure of the emotional turbulence going on in your head.

And Joel’s touch, his gentle touch, so delicate yet full of fury, not towards you but at the merciless people that forced such a wound on you. You winced as his fingers grazed the tender skin; his silence was so loud.

“Who did this to you?” he muttered, frustration lacing his voice. The sharpness of his earlier tone softened under your teary stare.

“It doesn’t matter,” you replied.

“It does to me,” he retorted.

“No. Joel, let me be alone. It hurts; my body was hit, and I would be dead if it weren’t for you,“you sobbed.

“For what?”

"For you," you admitted through a shaky breath, the weight of the truth bearing down on you. The room seemed to shrink as you uttered those words, exposing a vulnerability that had remained buried beneath the facade of strength.

Joel's eyes softened, and the fury in his touch transformed into a gentleness that contrasted with the brutality of reality outside. In that fleeting moment, it was just the two of you, suspended in a fragile moment.

His voice, now a whisper, carried a mix of concern and disbelief. "For me?"

“The only reason I’m not dead is because of you. Can you believe it?” You chuckled. “One of the men there recognized me as Joel’s girl, who I am not, and then they stopped. Not even because I’m a person, but because I am associated with a man.”

Joel's expression tightened at the revelation, a flicker of anger passing through his eyes.

“Let me clean your wounds, “Joel began, his voice a gentle plea to attend to your wounds.

"No. I don't need your fucking help," you interrupted, frustration lacing your words, tired of being the dog at Joel’s door waiting for him to notice your loyalty and devotion.

"Yes, you need it because you're a fucking naive baby acting restless and so careless." Joel retorted, frustrated.

“"I have no one. My life is just a waste of air for this damn world, so why should I care about my well-being?" you shot back bitterly, the pain in your voice mirroring the bruises on your body.

"Because I care about you," Joel admitted, his words a brief glimmer of hope. However, before you could fully grasp the weight of his confession, he extinguished any expectations. "You have Tess and me; we share our roof with you."

"Exactly. Your place, not mine," you argued, a stark reminder of the boundaries that confined your sense of belonging.

"Your point?" Joel challenged.

"You found me once and brought me here, okay? Thanks for it. But that doesn't mean I have your respect," you asserted, the frustration bubbling to the surface.

"My protection is not enough." Joel questioned, his patience wearing thin.

"It's not," you replied with conviction.

"Then you can go and find your own fucking place."

"That's what I'm doing. I'm leaving the QZ. There may be a place that fits for me," you declared, the decision firm in your voice.

Joel's silence echoed through the room, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. But you offered none, maintaining a stoic resolve as you walked away from the confrontation.

"What? Where?" he finally managed to utter, a mixture of confusion and concern etched on his face.

"Goodnight," you replied tersely, your voice carrying the weight of unspoken emotions. The darkness of the hallway enveloped you as you retreated towards the bedroom. The door creaked shut behind you, leaving Joel standing in the dimly lit room, grappling with the echoes of your departure.

The room was shrouded in darkness, and you lay on the bed, the events of the night replaying in your mind like a relentless loop making fun of you for being so foolish, but despite the physical exhaustion, sleep eluded you, and your thoughts continued to wander through the tangled maze of emotions.

And Joel, of course, whom you were leaving behind tomorrow morning before he could even notice you were going to disappear.

As you lay there, the door creaked open, and Joel entered, carrying a small bottle and a cloth. The soft glow of a flashlight in his hand illuminated his face, revealing concern and remorse for his previous attitude.

"I brought something for the pain," he muttered, his gruff voice softened by a vulnerability you rarely could see. You remained silent, acknowledging his presence with a nod.

Joel approached, his movements deliberate as he poured a few pills onto his weathered palm. "Take these. They'll help with the pain and help you sleep."

You reluctantly accepted the medicine, swallowing it down with a sip of water from a nearby bottle. The bitterness lingered on your tongue.

Joel then reached for the cloth, dampening it with water. Gently, he began to clean the wounds on your face, his touch surprisingly tender. The initial sting of contact faded, replaced by a strange mix of relief and discomfort.

"Joel,” you said, but he didn’t answer and focused on tending to your injuries.

"Joel," you repeated, a little more assertive this time. His name hung in the air, yet he remained silent, his attention fixed on the task at hand. The rhythmic motions of cleaning your wounds seemed to be his sole purpose.

You took a deep breath, the weight of unspoken words settling heavily in the room. "Joel," you said once more, this time with an edge of urgency, attempting to draw him out of his concentrated silence.

He finally looked up, meeting your gaze. "What is it?"

The room felt hot with tension as you hesitated before finding the words. "I appreciate this—the medicine, cleaning my wounds. But it doesn't change my mind about leaving.”

His gaze held yours, an unspoken plea for understanding. "You're hurt; you can't go so far in your state," he replied, a touch of concern in his voice.

"So what?" you retorted, frustration bubbling to the surface. "If I have to die outside, I will. I don't care. I'm just tired of this life."

Joel's eyes narrowed, his expression shifting from anger to concern. "What would make that thought go away?" he asked, his question cutting through the defiance in your tone.

"What?" you responded, caught off guard by the unexpected question.

"What would make life worth living?" he repeated, his gaze unwavering. The weight of his inquiry settled in the room, demanding introspection.

The silence that followed was heavy, the question lingering in the air as you grappled with the complexities of your own desires and the harsh realities of the world outside that broke any chance of achieving the dreams you had when you were a child.

The silence stretched, becoming a tangible force in the room, until Joel's desperation cut through it like a blade. "I'm waiting," he said, his tone laden with urgency.

"To have someone," you confessed, your voice carrying the weight of unspoken longings.

"How?" he pressed, searching for clarity in your cryptic words.

"To have someone that cares for me," you explained, the vulnerability in your voice laying bare a deep-seated yearning, a yearning you had been carrying for years.

"You have me," Joel insisted, his desperation now tinged with frustration.

"You're not mine; you're hers," you said, invoking Tess. "Do you think I don't hear you both having sex?”

His eyes widened, realization dawning on him as the unspoken truth reverberated in the room.

"Maybe my body was hers, but inside, it's here." Joel took your hand and placed it over his chest, just above his heart. "I'm craving for you."

A tense silence enveloped the room as your words hung in the air, and Joel's eyes reflected all the sincerity of his feelings slipping from his lips. Your skepticism pierced through the charged atmosphere, casting a shadow over the vulnerability that had been exposed.

"I don't believe you," you declared, a note of disbelief in your voice.

Joel's expression tightened, a blend of irritation and determination etched on his face. "You don't?"

"You're just saying those things out of pity," you accused, the walls of defense rising once more.

He shook his head, a flicker of frustration evident in his eyes. "You are whiny, a pain in the ass, arrogant, naive..."

"Stop!" you exclaimed, the litany of criticism hitting you harder than expected.

"Yet, despite it all," Joel continued, his voice a mixture of exasperation and something deeper, "you make me go crazy, and still, I want to break every single finger that has been laid against you."

The weight of Joel's words hung in the air, a revelation that cut through the tension and laid bare the depth of his emotions. His eyes, always filled with exasperation, now held a raw vulnerability.

"You don't realize that you brought sense back to my life!" he exclaimed, the urgency in his voice echoing through the room. "If you go and you die, there's nothing left for me to fight for."

"I want to be the last one you love," he spoke, his hands cupping your face, fingers tracing delicate patterns over the scars that adorned your skin. His gaze, dark and intense, held a promise that lingered in the air. "I want to be your ending."

"And I want you to be my ending," he added, referring to the weight of the words hanging between you.

A profound silence settled, punctuated only by the erratic beats of your heart against your ribs, In that moment, you felt that the confession of love coming from Joel was the last source of breath you needed to become a person again.

And then, he kissed you. With a warning written on his dark eyes, yet you didn't see it coming. He kissed you because there wasn't anything else to do. He wanted to claim your lips as them because they were his.

Joel's lips lingered against yours, the warmth of his kiss irradiated foreign feelings for you. You had never felt so loved for someone before, and as the kiss deepened, a subtle smile played on his lips, a rare expression coming from him.

He pulled away slightly, his dark eyes searching yours for any sign of resistance. His hands, calloused and weathered, gently caressed your face, tracing the contours of the scars on your face.

"You're not leaving," he spoke against your lips, with another gentle peck on them.

A shy smile played on your lips in response. "Whatever,” you replied.

Joel's confession had acted as a healing salve, mending not just the physical scars but also the emotional ones that had marked your journey through this world.

Joel's eyes softened as he caught the playful glint in your smile, and a warmth seemed to spread through the room. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace. The strength in his arms felt like a shield against the harshness of the world outside.

"You can be stubborn as hell, you know that?" he teased, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

As he held you in his arms, the world outside faded away, and all that remained was the warmth of the embrace and the quiet assurance of shared moments.

"Get some rest," he murmured, his voice a soothing whisper. "I'll be right here."

With Joel's arms wrapped around you, the weariness of the day and the weight of the past seemed to dissolve.

In the arms of Joel, the night embraced you, and as you closed your eyes, you found life worth living because of him.

719 notes · View notes

usedpidemo · 1 year

Text

Anywhere but home (Red Velvet Seulgi)

“So can you tell me why you decided to stop by here, out of all places?” you ask, intently gazing at your uninvited guest.

The thing is, you’re also an uninvited guest.

You’re inside a hotel room, not your home.

The woman leans back on her chair, smiling radiantly, mirroring that same deep stare back. She takes a moment to ponder through her answer, let her eyes linger on you a little longer.

“I missed you.”

“Do your members even know of your wheareabouts?” you say, worried. She should be anywhere else but here.

She strongly shakes her head, waves it off as a non-concern. “No, but you shouldn’t worry about them at all.”

“So they—”

“They’re too busy having fun by themselves.” Kang Seulgi has this dour expression on her lips, as if you’re asking beyond what you’re supposed to. “Again, you shouldn’t worry about any of them.”

“I’m surprised they haven’t caught on about our secret—yet.”

Seulgi chuckles, running through fond memories in her head. “I keep my promises, remember? And you haven’t.”

It’s not easy to defend your case to Seulgi, even if the reasons are justified. Back then, you were both young and reckless, and based on how she acts and sounds now, she still is. Of course you still remember the promise you made, much clearer now that she’s suddenly back in your life again than when you first spoke about them years ago. Life really finds a way to make sure you hold up your end of the bargain, pursuing you even as far as the ends of the earth.

“You know very well I couldn’t stay longer than a year,” you say, sitting on a dinner chair across from her.

“Then why did you promise me that you would come back then?”

She rolls her eyes.

“Look—” you pause and catch a breath. Note the sudden lump suddenly stuck in your throat—a byproduct from years of pent-up feelings from a lack of closure. “Life happened. Shit happens. I didn’t willingly forget, I just didn’t get any opportunity to see you again.”

“Sure, sure. Willingly forget, right.” Seulgi scoffs at your answer, as if you weren’t going through difficult circumstances like she had, as if you had no battles to fight. “I bet you were doing better once you left me to go home, like they always do.”

“Did you not hear anything I just said?” you reply, raising your voice. “I told you life happened!”

“Okay, let’s remove the part where none of us could fly for a year, maybe two. How about the rest?” Seulgi retaliates with another question, and it leaves you in utter disbelief at how stubborn she is. Perhaps that’s the one thing that brings you two together: just how headstrong you both are. “Did you even try to reach out at all?”

Your eyes immediately stray away from hers, much to her audible disdain. No words required to imply anything else.

“Okay, I guess I did forget about you,” you say, and it’s a half-truth, primarily because you want to avoid any more of this unnecessary drama resurfacing, especially when you’re on vacation out of all times. A nice five-star hotel in Los Angeles, a place you don’t have eager thoughts to travel to, apart from the occasional leave and maybe the multiple team playoff games in the spring. “What do you think happened when I tried to get another visa?”

“Should have asked me for help. I could have vouched for you,” she replies, as if that’s going to improve your chances whatsoever. It doesn’t help in the slightest now. “But what’s the point in talking about that now? I’m here now, so we can catch up on what we missed out on.”

You let your annoyance be known in the form of an indignant sigh. After a brief pause, you quietly retort, “You should have led with that to begin with.”

“Well sorry I’m not the same girl I was four years ago,” she says, tone miffed. “I mean, just look at yourself.”

You fall back on the chair, covering your mouth, preventing more damage. Point heard and taken. Your appalled reaction elicits a quiet giggle out of her.

“So unserious. You’ve always been like that,” she adds, clenching her hand into a fist, observing as you crumble and fall apart before her. “We’re both stuck in the past, but at least I grew; became a better person out of it. And you?”

“Seul,” you say, hoping that maybe, just maybe, she stops this personally charged attack on your character, but she doesn’t stop; she lets her mouth run every thought, every unspoken word built up from four years of waiting. It’s almost comical how she talks about you, like she has an audience listening to her, you included, and you can imagine all the laughs and jeers as she talks. She knows how to charm anyone with the right words and a dash of charisma added in between. Most of it, both insults and playful jokes alike, obscured behind those cute eyes and puffy cheeks that capture your attention whenever she smiles, having lost her anger somewhere in that impromptu rant.

And it ends like it always has. A show of affection, a little kiss, then you’re both back in each other’s arms, as if the passage of time was a mere afterthought. It’s the oldest trick in the book that you know.

And it works as it always has. To a fault.

—————

“Gotta say, I hate it when you do that. It’s like cheating and I really fucking hate it,” says Seulgi, between impassioned kisses, tasting each other’s lips like water in a desert. “That’s the one thing I don’t miss about you.”

“Yet you’re still kissing me,” you reply, pecking her lips rapidly, like you have a point to prove. You caress her bare shoulders, while your fingers play with the spaghetti straps holding her shirt together. She mirrors you with your own shirt, tugging at its fabric, itching to undress you as much as you.

Kang Seulgi can complain all she wants, but she falls for it every single time.

“Shut up.” Seulgi rests her warm palms against your cheeks. With a tight press, you’re puffed up, blushed as bright as the sun.

You make out with each other hungrily, urgently reaching for the bedroom, where you end up pushing her onto the mattress. It’s only then you remember just how hot Seulgi looks when she’s at her simplest: in a pink camisole and really short jean shorts. She really had this all planned out, knowing she’d be traveling the States all summer long, and California isn’t the most inviting place to wear her typical clothes.

Or maybe she learned a thing or two from Joy about wearing skimpier clothing in public.

“You’re staring,” she comments, snapping you out of your lust-filled daze. Seeing this, she spreads her toned, slender legs apart, as if inviting you inside them—an offer you absolutely won’t refuse. “I don’t have all night to wait, baby.”

“Hm, how long are you here then?” you ask as you undress right in front of her.

She doesn’t give an immediate answer; her eyes linger on the growing tent on your bulge, before she scans up to your face as you hover above her on the bed. “Gonna have to be more specific. We’ll be here for a month before heading home.”

“Here. Los Angeles, I mean,” you quickly comment as you lift her slinky arms over her head and kiss down from her temple to her neck.

“Mmm—” Enraptured by your soft lips, her words crumble into nothing but a whine against your ear. “Five days. Practice tomorrow and on Thursday, then two shows the days after.”

“And do you have any free time in between schedules?” You whisper against her neck, slowly lifting her shirt over her head, leaving only a simple pink bra to cover her. You sneak a finger between her shorts, dig between the fabric to brush her folds, wincing at a newly wet sensation.

"Oh." Seulgi says, voice deep and breathy, shuddering as you press into her slick. Her thoughts go haywire, your long-forgotten touch so fresh and foreign to her, even though you’ve had her in this position countless times.

"Between practices maybe?"

"God." Seulgi sucks in a gasp of air, chews on her lip, and says what you're both thinking: "I need you to fuck me so fucking bad."

“Answer the question first, Seul,” you tease, stroking her sensitive clit with your digit, then placing a second one to overwhelm her. “I really want to know so we don’t waste whatever time we have left.”

Much to her chagrin, the moans and quivers she releases do just that. It’s not primarily her fault when you’re the one instigating. Still, she can’t help but become helpless beneath you.

“Mm—mm—please—just—fuck—” she cries out, tilting her chin as her words are reduced to nothing but helpless mewls and moans. It’s almost cruel to watch, but you’re enjoying every moment of this, relishing the sight of a pleasure-laden Seulgi squirming as you finger her. Part of it might have something to do with the brief argument you had earlier, but as she said, you never really became a better person out of your brief little fling.

And perhaps for your sex life, it was all the more better for it.

She really had no time to waste, hectic schedule and all, but you had all the power and freedom to pin her down like this as long as you wanted. You hated Southern California as much as the day job that allowed you to vacation here in the first place, but you’d happily request a transfer here if it meant you could fuck Seulgi like this as often as you could. You certainly know that this isn’t the reality, but at least for one night, and God willing, the next few days, it is.

“Answer the question, Seul,” you repeat in her ear, every word laced with venom, as your fingers increase in pace stroking her slick cunt. Even with the obstructive layers of fabric around her groin, it only serves as a minor distraction as you pump your digits inside her, never letting up even in rapidly growing heat. As for Seulgi, it only makes her needier, whine louder and her figure squirm more violently, keeping your fingers in a harsh lock. Unable to keep herself together, her fingers squirm at air, then at the sheets as her climax quickly approaches.

“Mm—oh—oh—gonna cum oh my—”

It takes only a few more pumps before she lets up, giving in to her first of hopefully many orgasms tonight. Slack jawed, neck exposed, she utters a deep, echoed moan as her juices coat your buried fingers between her folds, staining her underwear and shorts in the process. You keep your digits tucked in her heat, slowing your pace to a stop as she rides down her climax, heaving and gasping for air.

“Didn’t expect you to cum so fast, Seul,” you say, withdrawing your newly drenched fingers from between her legs before putting them in your mouth, tasting her delicious slick. “You still taste so good after so long.”

While she recovers from her orgasm, you pick away at the remainder of her clothes. Shorts and underwear go flying off your hand, and her nakedness reveals the true aftermath: an endless flow of juices dripping from her cunt down to the sheets. As you undress her, you notice the sticky puddle built up on her panties too.

It isn’t your problem.

You hover up to a limp Seulgi, who’s still reeling from her orgasm. An ear to ear grin forms on your lips as you repeat the process. Kiss down her neck, to her collarbones, until you lay your face against her cleavage, playfully teasing her breasts with a hint of tongue, if not for the bra you’ve purposefully left in place. She’s too weak to resist or respond, having turned into a shell of herself, an outlet to satisfy your personal desires. Hungry for more, you sneak those same fingers back into her folds, forcing weak, shrilly whines out of her mouth.

“Mm—baby, we don’t have enough time—” she blurts, desperate, before drowning in her own moans as you slowly finger her again. You know she’s wrong, you know you have all the time in the world, and you certainly won’t rush, not when tomorrow is uncertain.

You struggle to unclasp the hook on her bra, having buried your face deep into her skin. It’s only after Seulgi regains a little control of herself that she assists you, intertwining your hand with hers before you work together to finally undo the obstructive piece of clothing. She slips the straps off her shoulders, tossing them aside before you dive head first into her now bare chest again, kissing and fondling her breasts.

With every deep kiss, she reciprocates with a whine, and every mewl dripping from her lips comes out a note higher than the last. She clings to your shoulders while you make out with her, like you’re the only reason why she would want to be here. You feel the same way, too. Her eyes flutter open and close like window curtains, mouth pouting and puckering with hunger yet to be fully satisfied, as curved and cute as that smile is.

She eventually stops you dead, cups a warm palm on your cheek, redirecting your eyes and meeting hers.

“I didn’t come to make love tonight,” she says, panting between words. “I came here to get fucked. Hard.”

The way she articulates such filthy thoughts leaves you breathless. Sure, she’s said it countless times when you were still together, but you’ve never seen her sound this passionate, this desperate, this needy, that it’s almost uncanny. Up until this point, you thought she was here to reignite a flame, but it seems as though time has burned those fond memories away.

Suddenly, you find yourself lying flat on the bed. It happened so fast; you were caught unawares and in awe of Seulgi’s newfound strength. She flipped you over then proceeded to straddle herself on your lap, resting her lanky arms on your bare chest. There’s nowhere to look except for those glazed eyes, staring you down hungrily. Even as she slowly slips off your underwear and your cock springs free, tapping the edges of her folds, your gazes remain locked toward each other.

And God, Seulgi’s figure is so fucking perfect.

You wonder just how much better her body could look when it was already flawless. The way she used every curve, every muscle, and every subtle movement to hypnotize you couldn’t be any more convincing. Now you wanted to fuck her as hard as she wanted, maybe rougher, and give her a good reason to stay a little longer.

She catches you staring doe-eyed, smiles with an audible giggle. “God, is this the first time you’ve seen me naked like this? Be real. This is nothing new to you.”

It sounds insulting, and it probably is, but even her voice sounds sexier now to your ears, and that overlooks the intentioned insult.

“Oh, I get it. None of these girls fucked you as well as I did, huh?” she continues, leaning her face—and the rest of that fucking body, its immaculate figure—ever close to you, pinning you deeper into the mattress. Her lips inches away from yours; you want to kiss them again so bad. “Gonna make sure you won’t ever consider anyone else except me.”

Right before you make a move, she asserts herself over you, drawing back her figure, lifting herself before slowly descending on your raging erection. It’s a difficult, agonizing watch, like watching a car crash in slow motion, only this is something you want to happen immediately. You want her tightness to suffocate and consume you. You want to fill her up with every bit of load you missed out on.

As you take a deep breath, preparing yourself for the inevitable, you gasp. Your tip brushes between her folds heavily, sucks every bit of air out of your lungs. If she buries herself down to your hilt, you might as well die. A much better fate than slowly being grinded down to the dirt for the bare minimum by work.

Seulgi’s eyes slam shut, and through gritted teeth she whines, feeling your cock for the first time in years—might as well be forever. The hands that were glued to your chest make their way to your shoulders, pressing on them tightly, as if the idea of letting go would kill her. Slowly but surely, she penetrates herself, inch by inch, until her whole cunt is consumed whole by your cock, burning your loins with her heat.

You both release a harmonious moan as you let the wondrous feeling settle—the feeling of being one again. She draws a hand back to brush off a wave of dark hair covering her face, then she gingerly leans down to kiss you passionately. Even after all these years, she’s still incredibly tight, incredibly hot, that it brings you back to the first time you took her.

It wouldn’t surprise you if you ended up like this for the rest of the night. The best case scenario, just the two of you tangled up in bed. Of course, her body has other things in mind.

“You have no idea how much I missed this,” says Seulgi, breathing heavily as she continuously brushes those annoying strands of hair covering her beautiful face. “You have no idea how many dildos and people I’ve fucked because of you.”

Your eyes widen. Forget the dildos, that’s a long-running secret between you two. People?

You immediately echo your thoughts into words. “People?”

“When we got here the other day, I was so desperate. I tried so hard. Club after club. Then I saw you roaming around the poolside and I just knew I had to have you.” Her hips begin to move, to buckle around your cock. After a prolonged whine, she adds, “God, I don’t know if I can leave you after I make you cum in me again. I just—”

The motion around her hips accelerates, and Seulgi loses herself in growing pleasure, letting her body do the rest of the talking. The way she lifts and sinks herself down, using your cock to stretch her out clears out every question or thought you have. She feels so fucking good, and you’re more than satisfied watching her make you hers.

Hands on her waist, you watch as she relishes in you, groaning as she rides you in rhythmic motions, bouncing up and down your cock. You don’t even have to do anything; your hips move on their own, thrusting up and meeting her halfway.

“God, you feel so fucking good, so fucking big.” Seulgi slowly leans her body back as she fucks herself on you, enabling you to ogle your now wet cock disappear and reappear between her slick folds.

With each plunge, you find your collective moans join the wet flaps of your flesh slapping flesh, and it leaves you even more breathless. Swallow your throat. You don’t know how much more you can take. The erotic sight and sound is quickly becoming too much to bear. You want the moment to last a little longer.

Not that it’d ever, ever be up for you to decide.

At least Seulgi is gracious enough to recognize this. She continues to impale herself on you, experiment with angles on your cock between thrusts to maximize her already surging pleasure. She isn’t fast nor slow, but perfectly paced to make sure both of you feel good. One hand remains firmly planted on your chest, again, while the other pinches her breast to keep you on your toes. A sight that drives you crazy, now you’re the one breaking rhythm with your now wild strokes.

“I’m gonna lose it, Seul, I swear—” you mutter, aroused by her teasing. She giggles. It’s as she intended.

“Yeah, maybe that’s the point—” she says in a singsong tone, “Maybe I want you to fuck me like this. Maybe I want you to use me like a fleshlight. Maybe I want you to fuck me like a whore.”

At this point, the only feasible thing that could happen is the first one. You’re giving her hard, deep strokes, aroused by the sight over you. Seulgi has you completely under her spell. It doesn’t help that you’re so close, hanging on by a thread, using every bit of your willpower not to burst right before she says so, even though nothing is at stake here.

“I’m so close, Seul,” you say between gasps, caught in the heat of the moment, and it might have been the worst thing you could have possibly said. “I am so close.”

You swear her ears perk up as you spit those words out, as if they were the extra fuel she needed to recharge her. A hand runs across and down your neck, pinches a nerve or two, strains a few breaths in the process. She rides you vigorously, slamming herself against you like she has some kind of resentment against your cock, but it’s out of lust, not hate. At this point, you’re both crashing your bodies into each other, racing to see who gets to cum first, to find out who wants each other more.

“Yes, please cum, I want you to cum—” Seulgi rests both hands bare on your chest, angles her face where your lips can function as a safe cushion for hers when it happens. She smells of everything sweat, sex, and alcohol, her hot breath tainted with the shot or two before making her way to your room. “Please fucking cum for me—”

The remainder of her words gets lost at the tip of her tongue as she fucks herself on you, losing herself in the ecstasy of sex for the final time, every nerve and muscle in her body quivering as her heat suffocates you beyond any point of escape.

Seulgi goes limp, rigid at a point where your cock pokes directly at her womb, and she orgasms. Her mouth slowly dips, producing a whiny, elongated moan while a fresh torrent of her slick creams your shaft and leaves you completely breathless. You grip your hands on your svelte waist, still thrusting through the fading embers of her climax, preparing yourself to follow shortly after hers dies down.

She regains a little composure, and then she proceeds to pull the plug on you.

Seulgi lifts her hips up, right at the moment you expected to reciprocate your cum to fill hers as she did to you, and pulls herself from the depths of your cock as you orgasm. It feels like a knife was stabbed, twisted, then pulled from your gut, and the sight is almost unbearable to watch. Your aching cock gushes. Bursts of your seed geyser around your shaft, violently throbbing as you cry out in agony, agitated and deprived from what you really want.

Her eyes glaze down, as if she’s seeing blood on her hands. After the joy comes the immediate regret. She’s trembling, and you don’t know whether it’s from the aftershock of her orgasm, or from guilt.

“Oh my god. Fuck. I-I’m so sorry—”

“Why the fuck would you do that?” You shout, rolling your eyes as far as the back of your skull and gasping as your orgasm meets an unfortunate end, your cock gradually shrinking as it throbs until nothing spews from your tip.

“I—I didn’t know what came into me,” she says, tone remorseful, as she gently scoots next to you. She’s on all fours, unwilling to rest beside your tired, splayed out figure—unwilling to bring you more misery and pain than what you’re experiencing now. “I guess I just wanted a little payback for ghosting me like that.”

The freezing glare you give her is half-annoyed, half-furious. You had little to no strength to do anything about it, unfortunately, and this is the best you can do.

“Well what can I do about it, jerk,” you blurt, turning your glance the other way, wishing you’d never let her in—both inside this room and back into your life.

The bed lightly quakes, and you feel the warmth of an arm outstretched over your figure. “You can take my ass instead. There’s lube in my bag, go get it if you want.”

You refuse to budge an inch, leave her dry for a few minutes, completely unresponsive toward her. She tries to draw you back in, cuddling and kissing your ear softly, playing with your hair, nuzzling her face against your cheek. As much as you want to push her away, you can’t—both from a lack of strength and a lack of willingness to turn her away again, at least completely.

Seulgi redirects your face to the ceiling and the corners of her face. Caressing your shoulder, she whispers, “I really didn’t mean to. My emotions got the best of me. I never wanted to hurt you like this. Please.”

You briefly glance in her direction, catch her eyes twinkling, nearly at the point of tears. You still don’t entertain her.

“C’mon. I will let you punish me. Use me. Let me make it up for you.”

Still, you don’t bother. Seeing how none of efforts have been working, she slowly hops off the couch and limps out of the room. You’re annoyed that she didn’t close the door on the way out, and a little more after she returns and rejoins you after a moment with a bottle in her hand.

Smiling, she presents the bottle directly in your gaze, confirming it is, in fact, lube. “See? You can fuck my ass. Isn’t this what you always wanted to do with me? Let me warm it up for you.”

You utter an involuntary gasp when Seulgi straddles herself atop you again, her toned, slender legs spread out wide, giving you full view to her cunt and her ass. She strews liquid from the bottle into her hand and coats her holes with the lube, giving you an alluring stare, grinning ear to ear, as if it’ll convince you.

As soon as she finishes glazing her tight holes with lube, you lift yourself from the bed, cupping her face and meeting her lips for a passionate kiss.

“You better not.”

“I wouldn’t think of it.”

Seulgi can’t keep her mouth off you, your chin, your jaw, affection overflowing until she sees your glow underneath the bright lights. Now, she’s flat on the bed as you keep passionately making out, her hand snaking down to your cock and stroking it back to full mast, eliciting a string of moans from your mouth into hers. Pumping your length and finding it hard, she breaks off the kiss and pushes you away.

Turning her body face down, Seulgi clambers atop the bed on all fours, arching her slim back and sticking her wet, curved ass directly in front of you. She’s clearly mastered the art of using her flexible body to seduce and hypnotize. She’s practiced the motion that it’s routine, like it’s a regular music show performance to her.

It’s moments like this when you wish there was a mirror available.

“Whenever you’re ready.” Seulgi looks over her shoulder, brushes off stray locks of hair aside, giving you that ‘fuck me’ stare that overpowers you every time. She says she’s down whenever you are, but you know she has anything but time available.

Still, you were going to indulge in her and make the most of fucking her ass until the sun rises.

You grab a handful of her flesh, stroke your cock with the other hand. Brushing your tip against the entrance of her folds, it’s enough to make her fold, make her crumble. Low whimpers exhale from her mouth, impatiently waiting for you to enter her, to ruin her tighter hole.

“Mm, God, please, put in me already—” she whines, her head spinning—both literally and figuratively. “I don’t know how long I can take it without you inside me.” “I thought you said whenever I was ready?” you jest, poking fun at what she said moments ago. Hearing the neediness in her voice compels you to tease her. Just your cock against her wet folds has her cries reaching higher. Up, down, and her tone pitches.

“Stop that! Just because I said what I said doesn’t mean I want it as much as you do.”

“I wasn’t complaining this much when you forcefully rode me,” you reply, spanking her ass with a quick palm, forcing a yelp from her. The more she goads, the brighter her cheeks smolder.

“Please just put it in already, oh my God.” Seulgi turns to you, gritting her teeth, so desperate for her cock to be filled. Another slap, another cry of pain and pleasure.

“Keep complaining. I like it when you complain like that.”

“Mm, fuck!” With every word she tries to utter from her lips, your hand meets her flesh with a powerful smack, disrupting her train of thought. You could write poems, lyrics, sonnets, with the syllables she's stuttering out, until even the slightest of noise is enough to warrant another slap of her ripe ass. Soon enough, her cheeks are burning the brightest of red.

And you still haven’t put your dick anywhere inside her.

“Enough teasing! Fuck me already—mmmph!”

You take her by surprise, nudging your cock against the tightness of her smaller hole, and making her moan the loudest she’s ever moaned so far tonight. Her body tries to resist, to push you off before you can fully sink yourself deep in her ass, but the wetness of her entrance is enough to help you nudge yourself inside. Seulgi’s groan drags out as long as the time it takes for you to penetrate her backside, slowly but surely burying yourself to the hilt.

When you finally reach the depths of her ass, you groan in agony as you drown in the sensation of her tight walls stretching against your cock. Hands firmly gripped on her ass, you swear you can feel your shaft breaking in half as you struggle to move inside her, but after a moment to acclimate yourself, the torturous feeling of her tightness mellows out, and the pleasure kicks in.

“Oh God, Seulgi. This ass feels so fucking good, oh my God,” you rasp, leaning forward to whisper and grunt in her ear. “You’re so fucking wet and tight, you’re going to break me.”

She angles her head, unable to face you, but her side profile says everything you need to know. Her body trembles wildly as her very foundations crumble with your presence inside her, yet she’s still able to maintain some semblance of composure to say something back. “And that’s what I want. I want to break you. I want you to ruin me, too. Use me. Fuck me.”

As if you needed any more convincing, she wiggles her ass against your buried cock, making you squirm.

Drawing yourself back into position, she moans as you pull your cock away, the tightness of her ass making it difficult, and her wetness making it easy to plunge back in. It also helps that Seulgi herself leans back against yours whenever you take her, urging you to slide deeper and deeper inside her.

So with a steady rhythm, you fuck her, reveling in the sight of Seulgi’s perfectly arched back and toned body rocking with yours. You had no intention to break her as she wanted, you wanted to let the feeling of her tighter hole linger longer than her pussy as compensation. The sensation of her asshole is so otherworldly, so different from fucking her cunt, that they’re almost completely separate entities. It’s neither better nor worse, it’s in its own league.

But maintaining this level of poise proves to be almost difficult, if not impossible. She urges you on—with loud moans, with enticing jiggles of her ass as you fuck her, with occasional demands from her needy lips—compelling you to take her harder than what your limits are. She pushes all the buttons in your brain that it drives you crazy, and you can’t help but give in, even when she’s the one allowing you to take her like this.

It’s sinful. Out of control. Your pace becomes disrupted, frenzied, and completely erratic. You’ve got both hands gripped to her waist, hammering away at her tight hole as lube and slick coat her outer layers, and the room is filled with the sounds of her lewd noises echoing all over the place backed up by the wet smacks of your flesh slamming against her skin. Forget that the whole establishment can hear you fuck, they have no idea who you’re even entangled with. Seulgi can scream and cry all she wants; they can do nothing to make both of you stop.

“Yes, fucking ruin me, fucking use me, keep fucking me like this—”

Resting your head over her shoulder, inhaling the scent of sweat, sex, and alcohol from her, you rasp in her ear, “I’m so close to cumming again.”

To make sure she doesn’t try anything funny, you fuck her as hard as your body allows, force her deep onto the sheets. You lay flat on top of her, hammering her with hard, mind-numbing thrusts while you cling to her shoulders, grab a fistful of her dark locks, kiss and nibble her ear—find anything to distract you from the inevitable. She’s screaming and mewling, forcing your attention to her, screaming about how she wants you to empty your seed inside of her, which you intend to do.

Either way, you don’t have a lot of time left.

You rest your head beside her ear, peck her sensitive skin. You’re fucking her ass so hard it’s almost cruel. Each stroke twists that expanding knot further and further until it’s beyond your control. “Gonna fucking cum again, Seul.”

She nods, bites her lip, eager and ready to receive you. “Inside,” she says once, and it only takes a handful more of pumps into her tight hole before you’re hilted deep inside her. The sound from your throat is primal, borderline animalistic. Your bodies tremble violently as you fuck your cum with each withering thrust, making sure not a single drop goes to waste, until you find yourselves frozen in a state you wish would last forever.

When your orgasm finally dies down, so does the rest of your body. Going numb, you press yourself against her lithe figure, lock her in a tight embrace, finding solace beside her head. A calm, peaceful quiet follows, with your collective deep breaths the only stir for minutes, maybe hours.

“I guess we can call it even.” Seulgi breaks the silence, turning her head to meet yours.

“Still didn’t cum in your pussy though,” is your immediate response, still unsatisfied, despite filling her ass with a hot load. “So no. We’re not even.”

“Relax. I’m here for five days. You know this place very well, right?” Seulgi pushes you off her and you settle on opposite ends of the bed, meeting each other’s gazes, her eyes twinkling with a rekindled fire and renewed lust. “We’ve got plenty of opportunities to fuck till then.”

Her cute face glows from the brightness of the sun beginning to rise over the city. That can only mean one thing: a new day has arrived.

“Or we can start right now.”

“Even better.”

—————

(A/N: The irony of naming this fic Anywhere but home when the actual inspiration is one of Seulgi's other songs from the 28 Reasons album. Specifically, Los Angeles. It's also the best song on there as well. I've been itching to write a fic with those pics she took when she was on vacation, but realized most of them didn't really fit the city setting of the story XD Thank you for reading!)

#smut #kpop smut #red velvet #seulgi

903 notes · View notes

phantasmiac · 2 years

Text

in which dabi is captured, and you are his beacon of hope

cw/tw: gender neutral reader, head banging as self harm, suicidal ideation, funeral mention

wc: 1.05k

dabi being incarcerated for his crimes after the villains lose the war. whatever sanity he had left is completely gone at this point. he’s completely mad with rage. enji is alive and well, that’s one thing to go batshit over. but these heroes won’t even grant him the freedom of death. he has to continue living with the weight of his most recent failure, as if it hadn’t been heavy enough to suffocate his entire being before. the men guarding his cell become familiar with the sounds of his sobs and screams; occasionally, they have to bust in and stop him from bashing his head into the walls in an attempt to free himself from his misery. so much for quirk nullifying cuffs.

the first time enji tried to talk to him through shatter proof glass, dabi let him have it. released all his sorrows, told him how much he wanted him to suffer in the depths of hell. the old fart fell to his knees, his face contorting into the ugliest expression while his eyes leaked gross tears. that should have brought dabi some sort of satisfaction, he supposed, but why would it? his words were just ricocheting off the barrier preventing him from killing that bastard, and at the end of their meeting he’d go home to his cushy mansion and golden boy son….. oh, right, and those other two kids. and wife. ex wife? who fucking cares. dabi doesn’t.

those background characters paid him a visit too. didn’t have as much to say to them, but didn’t let them walk away unscathed either. called his mother spineless, his sister a two faced bitch; they cried, just as expected. his brother — just a different color palette from Satan himself — wasn’t all too happy about that, pounding his fists on the glass yelling about “where’s touya” this and “what have you done with my big brother” that. it got the guards to pull him away and remove him from the room. and thank fuck for that because dabi was, quite frankly, having a hard time trying to conjure up some venom to spit at natsu.

but after the first visits, dabi had sworn himself to an oath of silence. if he couldn’t literally be six feet underground, he was going to act as if he was by being unresponsive. call him childish for it, but he’d been holding onto a grudge that existed since before his voice dropped a shit ton of octaves, for YEARS, so this was just the half of it. he was going to make the todoroki’s feel like they were passing by his open coffin at his dream funeral every time they walked through those maximum security doors, until the day his body decided to finally give out.

that was the plan, until you walked through the doors, looking so scared and small next to the giant walls of the metal dungeon they were holding him in. you don’t belong here. you don’t belong anywhere near this world. that’s why he left you that day without notice. so how the fuck did you end up here? you were always too stupid and curious for your own good, but surely you weren’t crazy or powerful enough to break into tartarus just to get involved in his business. no, that was his level of psycho. you’re twiddling your thumbs as you approach him and your footsteps are so loud in a silent facility like this, yet muffled by the blood pounding in his ears. he can tell you’re gathering the courage to lift that dumb little head of yours. you take a deep breath before meeting his eyes.

and god you’re still such a baby for him, even after you’ve probably seen all the destruction he’s caused on the news. your bittersweet smile goes all wobbly and a sob you were trying to hold in escapes your lips.

“hi,” you whisper meekly.

and that’s the way the cookie always crumbles. he scoffs, knowing he’s long walked right into enji’s trap. because if you’re a big baby for him, he’s a complete sucker for you.

“there’s a seat right there, idiot,” he mutters, snapping his head to nowhere in particular. he doesn’t need you seeing the softness in his eyes or whatever. and who knows how good those surveillance cameras are? for all he knows, enji is in some camera room right now zooming in and examining every detail of his expression, searching for a hint of his son inside that monster’s body (there’s no need to zoom, really. cat’s out of the bag now).

you’re quick to scramble for that seat like someone’s gonna come out of your blind spot and tackle you for it. you’re trying so hard to repress all the physical signs of joy currently overtaking every part of your body. “quit acting all cheesy,” or something like that, is what you expect him to say. and touya can see the battle you’re having with your mannerisms, trying so hard to stay cool for him, and it just makes him chuckle. maybe he’ll give the guards a hard time later, when he’s thinking back to how many displays of “weakness” he’s exhibiting at the moment. maybe he’ll successfully turn his brain to mush this time. but right now, your effect on him is kicking in, and he can’t find it in him to be be bothered by all that bullshit.

“you look hot today. this a date or something?”

you gawk at him, clearly not expecting one of his flirtatious comments you used to be familiar with. then you giggle, and it’s like rays of sun peaking through rain clouds during a thunderstorm. his stay in this prison has been nothing short of grim; he figures that’s why you haven’t come to mind once since his arrival, despite the nauseating amount of love he carries for you in his heart. you don’t belong here.

“you’re healing so fast,” you note. “seems like you’ll be in good shape in no time.”

touya knows you’re referring to his scars. but the sight of you here, right now, fills him with a whirlwind of unfamiliar emotions. you’re not human, he thinks. not from this earth. maybe you have some quirk you haven’t told him about that would explain the surreal effect you have on him? yeah, that has to be it. that has to be why he has this feeling of…. hope growing inside of him.

“yeah. yeah, i think i will be.”

#dabi drabble #dabi headcanons #dabi imagine #dabi x reader #dabi #dabi angst #dabi fluff #dabi x y/n #dabi fanfic

603 notes · View notes

belphegorspillow · 1 year

Text

Petals [Obey me x Gn!Mc]

TW: Angsty one-shot, Reader has Hanahaki disease, death, lesson 16 spoilers

Multiple Endings at the bottom! + an Epilogue [I did my best to try make them the same amount]

Mc held onto the sides of their sink as blood and petals cover up the sink and counters.

Mc looked up at the Mirror, grabbing their mouth-wash and cleans out their bloody mouth. They started to wash away all the blood that covered the sink

This has been happening for months. Ever since they started to crush on them. Yet they knew they would never be able to date their crush...

The first time they saw a petal fall was when they told themselves that they would never end up with their crush.

The petals started white and pink before turning red as the thorns started to tear inside of their body dying the innocent petals the colour of their pain.

As time passed more petals came before it started to bring blood along with it. They couldn’t do much about it. All they knew is that their time was limited if they didn’t confess or get a surgery to remove the flowers - along with the memories of them...

Mc would keep it a secret from all of their friends, no way that they could let it slip that they were dying because of something stupid...a dumb crush...

Each time their crush came up to them, they would feel the burning of the petals that were trying to escape their throat.

Every night Mc would force everyone out to be able to cough up petals that they were trying to hold back for the whole day.

Their friends and their crush would ask what was wrong. They would lie that they were alright. Nothing was wrong. They were okay....

No one needed to know...No one needed to...

“Oi MC!” Mammon yelled as he busted open the door. Mc panicked a bit as they tried to clean up the blood faster before Mammon would find them. As Mammon entered to find Mc’s mouth covered in blood, petals littering the bathroom counter.

He screamed. “Mc!”

“They have a disease called Hanahaki disease.” The doctor explained as the brothers stood at the entrance of Mc’s hospital room. They were looking between each other as expecting for someone to know. They could see the fear on Satan. They knew it was something bad.

“It means they have roses growing inside of them, it is slowly going to pierce through their lungs if it isn’t delt with.” The doctor explained as he showed an xray of Mc’s chest, roses were covering their lungs, as if it grew anymore it would kill them.

“Is there any way to prevent this from occurring?” Lucifer had some strain in his voice as he asked the doctor, clearly trying to not let his emotions get the better of him.

“There is a way. If we remove the flowers through surgery. But they will lose all memories of the person who they like and because of how bad they are already...it may not be 100 percent sucessful..”

“Who they like?” Satan soon sighed. “ Hanahaki disease is when a human has...feels for someone and they haven’t told them for a long time... They start to develop the disease... The ways to cure it is to confess to their crush or to get the surgery...”

The group went quiet. So Mc was going to forget someone if they get it removed.

“But, they chose to not get the surgery...” That suddenly got the attention of the group. “What.” Lucifer seemed angry at this. He was. Mc was going to die if they didn’t get this.

“Mc ain’t getting the surgery?!” Mammon was clearly panicked at this news. “Why aint they?! They can die!”

“My henry...They are going to die!!” “Poor Mc! They need the surgery!” “We can’t lose them again..“ “Mc... They have to get the surgery.”

“I don’t want to.” Mc opened up the door as they stared at each of the brothers, violently coughing as red petals fell to the ground. “I chose that I don’t want the surgery. I don’t want to forget him and I know he won’t feel the same so I don’t want to confess either... So my only choice is this. None of you can change my mind. It’s final.”

The group would look at Mc, as much as they were pained to try and get Mc to reconsider. But they didn’t.

They were going to die... and they had to accept that... So they were going to spend as much time as they could with Mc before they die... they had to...

As Mc was reaching their final few days, they could barely breath anymore. They decided they would spend it with their crush for their final moments...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ENDINGS:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucifer

Lucifer was in his study, classical music was playing softly as he was doing his paperwork. A soft knock came at the door where he called them inside.

“Hey Lucifer...” Their soft raspy voice caused Lucifer to look up at them, seeing their normally warm skin turn pale, their eyes having so little light and blood on the edge of their mouth. It hurt Lucifer...It hurt him so much...

“Can we hang out for a bit. You need a break... Let’s take a walk.” Lucifer pushed himself out of his seat. “Mc, you’re too weak to go out and-”

“That’s why you’re coming with me. Now lets go before it gets too dark.” Mc started to head out, with Lucifer sighing softly and going to follow

As the two left and started their walk, Lucifer made sure to have a grip on their side incase they were to start to feel lightheaded.

Mc smiled weakly as the breeze pushes the hair out of their face as the two were walking.

“Thanks for coming with Lucifer...” “Of course Mc. I enjoy spending time with you...” Mc smiled a bit as they felt their heart beat faster before a coughing fit started and Lucifer held them close as he watched the petals and blood fall onto the ground.

“We should go back-” “There is a park that isn’t too far. Lets go there.” Mc cut him off and smiled as they wiped the blood from their mouth. “It will be fun. Come on.” They held his hand and started to walk ahead a bit as to lead him to the park.

As the two reached the location, up on a hill in the park, Mc sat down on the grass and smiled a bit, patting the spot beside them. Lucifer hesitated before looking at Mc again and sighed, sitting beside them on the ground.

As the two sat in silence, Mc looked at the view and hummed. “I will miss the Devildom...” Lucifer looked at them again and seeing as they were tearing up. “I will miss your brothers, and their shenanigans.... Don’t tell Satan that I told you this, but he is the reason why your hair was dyed entirely gray once.” Mc laughed before coughing violently as they felt their breath disappear. They fell onto the ground as they were coughing violently.

“And most importantly...I would miss you...” They whispered as their eyes were closing. “because...i love you...”

Lucifer grabbed onto them, transforming into his demon form as to try and get back to the hospital nearby. He didn’t care if you were against the surgery...you needed it...you can’t die... not now...please... don’t die on him. He loves you too. He can’t...no please...don’t...

Lucifer felt your body go cold, no heartbeat, no pulse...nothing... He sat there, craddling Mc in his arms as tears started to fall..

‘Why didn’t you just forget me...‘

Mammon

“Mammon.” Mc grinned a bit as they went into his room, they were holding onto the wall as they were trying to go over to him. “Wanna watch some movies together?”

Mammon looked at Mc, he frowned a bit as he missed their normal, more vibrate personality. He hated seeing how weak they had become...

As Mammon set up the movies, Mc would curl up into his side and look at the screen and hums a bit. They look at Mammon who had his arm around them. They felt their heart start to beat faster before they started to cough intensely.

“Mc-” “I’m fine.” Mc coughed as they wiped the blood and petals from their mouth. “It’s not as painful as before.” They smiled at him tiredly. They moved to sit more comfortably on the couch and tried to relax

Mammon stared at them before starting to tears up.. he rests his head on their shoulder, causing them to get flustered, but it didn’t stop the petals that were clogging up their airway.

“Why don’t you just...get the surgery... Whoever ya forget, it doesn’t matter... I don’t want ya to leave me...”

Mc tears up as they open their mouth about to speak when they started to feel light headed, intense pain coming from their chest as they moved their hand to their chest.

Their lung got ripped... They were dying. Mc started to close their eyes before whispering softly. “I didn’t want to forget you Mammon...I loved you too much...”

Mammon froze at hearing that, he would be flustered and excited that his crush liked him back, yet they didn’t move. He didn’t hear them talk, they went cold...

They were gone. Mammon moved to hold them, staring at their closed eyes. They looked so peaceful...yet they were gone..

Mammon couldn’t see clearly as his teared filled his eyes. He screamed and cried.

Mc was gone.

“Why did ya have to leave me...’

Leviathan

Mc was trying their best to heal Levi as he was storming through the dungeon in the game the two were playing.

Levi had been asking Mc to play the game with them forever, yet they only decided to play it with him today.

Levi was determined to finish the game. They didn’t have a long time to complete it. He didn’t know how much longer you would be with him... He needed to go through and spend as much time as he could with you.

“Levi...can we have a break? My hands are starting to cramp” Levi paused the game and panicked a bit. “Are you okay?! I-is it something to do with the disease? Are you leaving me?”

Mc grabbed Levi’s hands and looked at him. “Calm down... It’s just that my hands hurt from playing...” Levi nods his head and looks down, mumbling sorry.

“Are you scared?” Levi asked Mc softly. “Scared that you are dying?” Mc looked at their crush and hummed. “A bit... I’m also upset that I can’t spend time with anyone anymore. I will miss playing games with you and binging anime.” They laughed as they thought about it, before they violently started to cough up petals.

“Mc!” Levi went over and grabbed a bottle of water nearby as well as held onto Mc to prevent them from falling and getting hurt if they were going to faint.

“I’m fine. I’m fine.” Mc smiled weakly as their hand reaches to hold Levi’s. They sighed softly.

“I’m terrified honestly Levi...” Mc told him. “I’m scared... I don’t want to die...”

“Why didn’t you get the surgery.” Levi asked them as he tears up a bit and looked at them. “Whatever normie you would have forgotten didn’t matter! It’s not fair you have to suffer because of them.”

As Mc was going to respond, they started to violently cough. They held onto Levi, who grabbed them. He was panicking. “I-I will get Lucifer!” Levi tried to help them up, but they weakly pulled him down.

“It’s too late Levi...” Mc told him softly as they were coughing. They were tearing up as the pain was getting worse. They knew this was their last moments - Levi knew this too. Neither one wanted this.

“I love you Levi...I love you...” Mc whispered, but even though they confessed, they still died, because of the thorns destroying their lungs.

“Mc...” Levi stared and cries as he held onto their hand.

“Why did you leave me...”

Satan

Mc was sitting with Satan outside in the garden of the House of Lamentation as a small group of kittens were sneaking inside the gardens.

Satan would pet one gently as he looks over at Mc. “How is Ms Paws doing?” He asked as Mc was happily petting the small kitten.

“Ms paws is really cuddly.” They laughed weakly as they hummed a bit. They were trying to hold back the feeling of coughing up the petals.

Satan seemed to take notice and grabbed their hand. “If you hold it in, you could get worse...” He told them. They nod a bit and quickly pass the kitten over to Satan before moving and starting to cough up petals.

He would place down the kittens before going over to rub Mc’s back gently. That didn’t seem to help as Mc was still coughing violently.

“Let’s go inside... you’re getting worse..” Mc shook their head as they were stopping their coughing fit.

“It’s fine. I want to be outside... It’s nice...” Mc looked to where the kittens were and frowned. “They left.”

“They went back to their mom..” Satan gestured over to the group of kittens surrounding a cat that was escaping out the garden with the kittens.

Mc smiled a bit and sighed softly. “I really wanted to spend more time with the cute kittens! Now I can’t.” Mc pouted a bit which Satan looked at them.

“You could...If you go and get the surgery...” He suggested. Which Mc huffed and shook their head.

“I can’t. I’m in too bad of a condition to get fixed up now.” “Not true.. You can get it removed and angel magic can-”

“Satan. I said I’m not going to.” Mc said firmly as they look at him. “I am not going to do it. As much as you try.”

Satan frowned and looked at them. “Why not.. You are choosing to keep feelings for some guy than dying...”

“Because... I want to remember him... even if i’m dying.” Mc hummed as they started to cough again, petals and blood fell into the grass. It didn’t seem like their coughing fit was stopping anytime soon.

Satan went over and he grabbed their side, he noticed the light in their eyes was fading. “Mc-”

“I don’t want to forget you..” Mc whispered as they closed their eyes and their body went limp in Satan’s arms.

“You...” Satan was quiet as he stared at their face. He placed them on the ground before slamming his fist into the ground out of anger. He was angry. He hated himself. He was the reason. Why didn’t you just forget him.

“I should have forced you to forget me..”

Asmodeus

Asmodeus was finishing up with the outfit that you were wearing. “There. You look perfect my darling.” He smiled a bit, though it seemed a bit forced.

He hated how the outfit didn’t make you look like you... Your vibrate skin was pale, your bright eyes were duller. Nothing about your appearance made him hopeful you would survive...

“Thank you Asmo. I look really amazing thanks to you.” Mc spun around before wobbling a bit and Asmodeus grabbed onto their arm, leading them to sit on his bed.

“Be careful! I don’t want you getting hurt.” Asmo stared at Mc who smiled before feeling their throat blocking up with petals so they moved quickly to try and get to the bathroom, but were too weak to stand so they started to cough petals all over the ground

Asmodeus hated the sight, but he would deal with it to try and help Mc. He moved them to his bed, not minding that they were coughing blood and petals all over his sheets.

“Thanks Asmo...Sorry you have to deal with it...” Mc apologised as they were going to wipe the blood off of their mouth - which Asmodeus did instead with a napkin.

“It’s okay dear... I want to make sure you’re okay...” Asmo stared at them before tears started to fill his eyes. “Why Mc... Why didn’t you get the surgery!”

He cried as he moved to hug them. Mc looked at him and hugged him back - pushing back the feeling of coughing. “Because I don’t want to lose the person I like...”

“Mc...Who ever it was... they don’t deserve you. You should save yourself and forget them. It doesn’t matter.”

Mc smiled before they were forced to start coughing again. But this time as they were coughing, they couldn’t breath. They were loosing their vision. Their time was up...

“I didn’t want to...lose you Asmo...”

Asmodeus froze as their body went still, they were gone. Asmodeus cries as he held their body close.

“You should have forgotten me. I could have won back your love..”

Beelzebub

Beelzebub was sitting with Mc out on a picnic, which they invited him on. He was worried as they were coughing violently all the way to the picnic location.

“Mc.. Are you sure we shouldn’t go back...” Mc looked at him and shook their head. “No. The flowers here only bloom once every 1000 years. I have to see it with you. And it’s better to have it with a picnic.”

Mc smiled at him weakly as they turned to look at the sunset. They move to lean on Beel a bit before a large amount of petals filled their throat, causing them to cough violently again

Beel moved quickly to be at their side and rub their back. He was worried if he held them, he was going to break them.

Mc finished and looked at him. “Thanks Beel...” Mc smiled weakly. They looked as the sun was moving down, the flowers were going to bloom soon...

“Mc... Why did you choose to not get the surgery...” Mc hummed and looked at Beel before smiling sadly.

“I didn’t want to forget the person I loved. And If I died during the surgery because of how bad I was already, I wouldn’t have remembered him. But if I die this way, I can remember him still..”

Beel looked down. This reminded him of loosing Lilith. He would lose another person who he loves.

Beel moved to hug Mc gently. Mc smiled and held him close. They started to cough violently, causing beel to pull away as they fell on the ground

“Mc!” Beel didn’t know what to do, he looked as they reached to hold his hand.

“Beel...I love you...please be happy...” Mc whispered as they closed their eyes. They’re hold on his hand disappeared and Beel stared at them in silence.

He couldn’t believe it. He was the reason. He is the reason why Mc died. He lost them...because of him

“It’s my fault... It’s my fault you died..“

Belphegor

Belphie had been forcing himself to stay awake. He couldn’t sleep because he knew he was going to lose MC at any point.

“Belphie. We are going to nap.” Mc told him as they grabbed his arm and gently pulled him towards the attic.

“Mc, we won’t have any time to spend together if we sleep all the time..” Belphie tried to say as he was forcing himself to try and keep his eyes open - he couldn’t sleep. He had to spend time with you..

“Belphie.. Come on...please..” Belphie eventually caved in and went with you to the attic to lay down and relax.

He would hold Mc gently with their back facing him incase they were needed to cough up petal.

He winces as he heared Mc started to cough violently. He moved his hand to rub their back gently and frowned. He thought back to Mc’s face when he killed them.

He hated it. He hated that he killed them once. He hated they were going to die again..

“Get the surgery... Mc please..” Belphie tried to ask them again. “I don’t care that you don’t want to forget them... But you have to...”

“No matter how many times you tell me. I will not. I will not forget him.” Belphie held Mc close and tears up.

“But you are dying because of him. You can’t die...You can’t leave...”

“I’m sorry Belphie. My choice was mad-” Mc started to violently cough as they were struggling to speak. They look over at Belphie. Even if they were dying.

Belphie should know how Mc actually felt.

“Belphie...I love you...” Mc smiled weakly as they moved and hugged him. Before Belphie could do anything else, their grip around him was gone.

He stared at them and held them close to him.

‘Why did I have to kill you twice..‘

~~~~~~~~~~

EPILOGUE:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After Mc’s Death. The brothers were never the same.

Lucifer locked himself away to always work, never finding him relaxing. Because if he did. Mc would come back into his head. He didn’t have time to grieve. He had to work

Mammon was never home. He was always out at places that he never took MC to as to try and not remember them. If he did, he would break down. He was too upset to win at any casino

Levi was more of a shut in than usual. Burying himself in games and animes that he knew you wouldn’t like. Even if he hated the game, he wouldn’t want to be reminded of how many things he wanted to spend time doing with you

Satan was more wrathful than usual. They could hear Satan punching his wall out of anger. He went back to how he was when he was just born from Lucifer. A pure demon of Wrath

Asmodeus was never leaving his room. His appearance was a mess. No posts on social media. Nothing. It was as if he disappeared and died as well when Mc left.

Beel barely ate anything. Whenever he saw his favourite foods, he would think back to MC and the feeling of sickness hit him so he could never eat. He would spend most of his time sitting outside of Mc’s room - not wanting to enter or else it would hurt more

Belphie didn’t know if sleeping or being awake was better. Either one he was faced with thinking or seeing MC again. He hated how no matter what he did he thought back to their pained face of when he killed them and their face when he saw them dead.

The room beside the kitchen that was considered Mc’s room was never touched. It was collecting dust. No one entered it besides when Lucifer went to put sheets over the furniture to prevent more dust from covering everything. No one wanted to go in. It was the last thing that reminded them of you.

The movie marathons. The book binging. The napping. The midnight snacking. The dress up. The chatting about anime. The comforting words.

All of that was gone.

#Obey me #obey me x reader #😭#obey me lucifer #obey me mammon x mc #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me x mc #obey me x gn reader #obey me x gn mc #obey me angst #tw:death #hanahaki disease #my writing #obey me mammon #om #omswd

329 notes · View notes

shadowisles-writes · 6 months

Text

Innocent (Part 2)

A/N: Here I am with the second part of my gift to @kingofsummer93 for the ACOTAR gift exchange <3 I haven't been able to touch my laptop in days so it took some time but I'm excited to work towards the juicy parts of this fic.

Summary: Lucien had always thought his life would be normal—or as normal as it could be growing up in a werewolf hunting family. All it took was one full moon for the truth to unravel in front of him and force him to make hard decisions. His fate was forever changed, and no amount of trying running from it could prevent it from catching up to him.

Thank you @rosanna-writer for the beta <3

Read on AO3

Salt streams out my eyes and into my ears Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness - Bigger Than The Whole Sky, Taylor Swift

Chapter Text

6 years ago - Lucien

As he had predicted, the soft brown shade of Elain’s hair was visible through the small window in his door the next day. Lucien had been dreading the minutes passing by since school had ended. For a few seconds he had fooled himself into thinking her father would make her go straight home and he would have more time to think of a way to leave her without hurting her.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Vanserra.” Elain nodded politely after cracking the door to his room open.

Her eyes scanned Lucien’s body in the bed quickly, lingering on his face until a slight frown appeared on her face. He didn’t smile at her and glanced away after a few seconds.

“Good afternoon dear.” His mother managed a smile. “I’m going to get some fresh air.”

Elain waited for her to leave the room before she rushed to Lucien’s side and dropped into the seat by his bed.

“Oh god Lucien, what happened to you?” She reached for his hand, but he removed it from the mattress before she could touch him.

The flash of hurt on her face was enough to make him clench his jaw to keep tears at bay. “You shouldn’t have come,” he gritted out.

“What are you talking about?” Elain folded her hands in her lap, wringing them together like she had done in his car before a big test just a few days ago.

Back then, he had covered her hand with his to help soothe her nervous tell, but those times were over. Lucien forced his eyes away from her fingers, so often laced between his that he used to plan his lunches so he’d only need one hand to eat.

“Why aren’t you at practice?”

“Because you’re laying in a hospital bed after what I can only guess was a severe car accident.” She said it like it was obvious, but her face was obviously controlled, too blank to be honest. Lucien had always been able to tell when she was hurt, even when she was trying to hide it. The way she forced the corners of her mouth to stay still was an obvious tell, as was the slight pinch between her brows. “What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he could only hope he was better at hiding his feelings than she was if he wanted his plan to work. “I’m leaving, Elain.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m moving,” he bit out, his eyes finally meeting hers with a glare. He didn’t want to answer any other questions, he couldn’t keep looking at her like this, he needed this nightmare to end. “I’ll be gone by the end of the week.”

“But- Is- How did that happen?” Elain blinked a couple of times, confused. “Is it Beron? I don’t understand why he’d want to move-”

“He’s not.” Lucien cut her off. “I’m moving, just me.”

The reality of where the conversation was going dawned on Elain and her eyes filled with tears. “Why?”

“Because I can’t be here anymore. This place, this life, I don’t want it. I just want to leave.”

I’m lying, Lucien wanted to tell her. I’m lying, I’m sorry, I need you to be safe . He would never get to say them to her, and it was this truth he drew his anger from. Anger was all he had left to get through this, so he clung to it with all his might.

“And we’re not even going to talk about it?” Elain’s voice broke halfway through her sentence, her lower lip trembling.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Lucien scoffed and wished she could just hate him already.

“Just yesterday we were-”

“We were what, Elain? Stealing five minutes of time before your father locked you back into the house?” He forced himself to watch the horror on her face as the words hit and made sure he drove his point home. “That’s not a life, hasn’t been for months, and it never will be.”

“You promised me,” she whispered, her breaths unsteady as tears rolled down her reddened cheeks.

“I lied. You should leave.” Lucien nodded toward the door and stared at it, unable to watch her crumpling face for another second.

“Clearly,” Elain sniffled as she gathered her coat. “I don’t even know what to say to you.”

“I do. Why are you still here?” Lucien met her eyes for the last time and knew it had worked when she steeled her face into a mask of anger.

“Fuck you,” Elain choked out just before she slammed the door closed behind herself.

She wasn’t even out of his sight when she braced her hand against a wall and broke into sobs.

Present day - Elain

The flower shop was bright from the sunlight streaming through the window. Elain was humming to herself as she placed her flowers around the various stands for customers to browse. It was a quiet week day, but the morning had been busy enough and she expected more customers to come closer to the evening.

The quiet bell she had installed by the door rang, but she didn’t glance back long enough to see who had walked in.

“Good morning,” Elain greeted cheerfully. She made sure the bouquet was secure and wouldn’t fall on a customer before she turned around. “What can I help you with-” Her sentence died on her tongue as she recognized him.

His long red hair and mismatched hazel and russet eyes were something she would never forget, even with the new scar cutting through his left eyebrow, over his eyelid and down to the middle of his cheek. Neither would she forget the way he had abandoned her. Her mouth was dry, and she had to clear her through before his name fell from her lips. “Lucien.”

“Elain,” he whispered, as surprised to see her as she was to see him.

“What do you need?” she asked in a tone drier than she had ever used with a customer before.

The question only made him look sadder. “Jasmines, and pink peonies, please.”

“You know, there’s a florist a couple of blocks from here that specializes in peonies, I’m sure they’ll have more shades of pink to choose from than I will.”

“They’re closed. I just… need the flowers, please.” He remained where he was, not making a move to come to her counter. Elain didn’t know him anymore, but it didn’t take much to see his eyes were red from exhaustion and probably crying.

He’s just a customer, she thought to herself and took a deep breath to sound professional again.

“Give me a moment,” Elain went to the back of her shop and retrieved three peonies. “Which shade?”

“This one, please,” he didn’t hesitate.

“How many stems? I’ll balance the jasmine from that.”

“Twelve.”

“I’ll just be a couple of minutes.”

There was plenty of working space at the counter in the shop. Elain typically arranged her bouquets there to talk to her customers, but there was nothing she wanted less than to make small talk with Lucien. The cameras showed no one else was coming in, and Lucien was simply waiting.

After all of these years, she could hardly believe it was him, and yet, every time she glanced at the screen she recognized the face that used to be so familiar to her. Before today, Elain had never believed people who couldn’t handle running into their exes. She had run-ins with men she dated during her degree, and it was always awkward but it had never been unbearable. Except Lucien was more than an ex, he had been her first love, and the only heartbreak that she thought she might never recover from.

“Dammit,” Elain cursed as she tied the stems together, her eyes stinging and filling with tears.

Lucien

Lucien didn’t know what to do with himself as he waited for Elain to come back with the flowers. On any other day of the year, he would have tried to talk to her, but his chest felt hollow this morning. Even seeing his first love wasn’t enough to get a reaction out of him, and on days like these he often believed nothing ever would.

Elain must have talked to him when she placed the peonies and jasmine in front of him, but Lucien only answered with the bare minimum as he finalized the transaction. He had done nothing with his day but come to this shop and yet he was exhausted already.

His feet carried him back to his car and he drove to his destination almost mechanically, following the unfortunately familiar road to the tall iron gate. He parked beside it, the structure looming over him as he began his walk down the graveled path.

Tombstone after tombstone lined the way, some well flowered, others beaten down by the weather and lack of care. Lucien clutched the flowers in his hands as he walked through the cemetery with blurred vision. He had come every day for weeks after the funeral, so there was no need to see as his feet carried him without thinking to the familiar gray stone. He blinked just enough to clear his eyes and read the words.

In loving memory of Jesminda Halls

His knees hit the grass with a quiet thud.

Lucien had no chance of controlling the way his entire body shook from a sob. “I’m sorry,” he whispered with his eyes closed.

Even after three years, there was no controlling the torrent of tears that fell from his eyes. None of his apologies would ever bring her back, and his flowers suddenly felt like a pathetic gesture to make himself feel better. It wasn’t working by any means, but Lucien hiccuped through the tears and brought a hand to his face to try to stifle his sobs.

The pads of his fingers pressed on the scar on his cheek, looking to bring back the pain the wound had caused, just so he could feel something. It was long healed, but for months past the incident Lucien had picked at it and made it bleed over and over again. Werewolves hardly ever scarred, the others had told him, but Lucien couldn’t handle watching himself heal when Jesminda never would. Months of reopening his wounds had caused the scars to become permanent, and he now got to see the reminder of his shame every time he saw himself in a mirror.

“I thought I’d find you here.” A hand came to rest on his shoulder, squeezing gently to steady him through his crying.

Lucien couldn’t form words in his state, although he mouthed the words I’m sorry over and over until his lips were trembling too hard and he had to bite down on them.

“You might still not believe me, but it wasn’t your fault Lucien,” Helion added as he crouched beside him, his hand resting in the middle of his back.

3 years ago - Lucien

“Please just let me come Lucien,” Jesminda pouted as she hung from his neck. “I’ll stay inside during the night, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Not yet.” He leaned down to kiss her before he continued, “Full moons are still tough; I want to make sure I’m in complete control before I can be around you.”

“You’ve been in control for months,” she argued.

Lucien gently ran his thumb over her cheek. “Mostly, but I’m not taking any chances.”

“You know who you would never hurt on a full moon?” Jesminda leaned into his touch, turning her head to kiss his palm.

“I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”

“Your true mate.”

Lucien laughed and dropped his hand to her waist. “How about I make sure I don’t have any murderous tendencies before we go prove that theory right, mmh?”

“Please?” Jesminda pleaded again. “All the others are old, and they’ll be in control. That’s extra safe.”

“Not happening.”

“Pretty please?”

Lucien smiled and brought her body against his. “I’ll be back in a few days. I love you, Jes.”

“I love you too.” She sighed and kissed him one more time. “Stay safe.”

“You too.”

Lucien was gone minutes later, a duffel bag thrown into the back of Helion’s car as he drove the two of them to a remote location where they could feel the effects of the full moon without worrying about any humans being hurt. He still remembered the first time he had sat in that passenger seat, feeling like he was going to burst out of his skin even though the full moon was still three days away. The trip has lasted the whole week, his unresolved anger against his mother and Helion doing nothing to help him get his instincts under control.

Almost three years later, Lucien and Helion laughed together in the car, their relationship having grown and their trip never lasting more than three days. Helion had been saying for a couple of months that going that far had become unnecessary with the improvement of Lucien’s control, but it was their only time alone together.

It took endless calls with his mother and many interventions from Helion to help him understand what had happened before and after his birth was for the best now. For months, Lucien had mourned his old life, but nothing could make him go back to that town now. Living in Beron’s house had been hell, and finding a father figure in Helion had healed more parts of him than he knew possible.

Sometimes, his thoughts drifted to Elain and his heart filled with regret on how he had handled things with her, but he no longer longed to run away and find his way back to her. Lucien was in the present with Jesminda, with Helion and the other werewolves he had met who quickly became like family to him.

Jesminda

Somewhere just out of sight of Helion’s car, Jesminda weaved in and out of traffic to keep track of them without obviously following them. She knew Lucien wouldn’t think to check the mirrors to see if she was there, and Helion wouldn’t recognise the make of the friend’s car she had borrowed.

All she wanted was to prove to Lucien that it was safe for them to be around each other and for him to know that despite being human, she was ready to accept every part of him, even when he was losing himself to instincts as a werewolf. She kept far behind when they exited the highway and turned into a smaller country road. There weren’t a lot of possible turns from there, and Jesminda remembered enough from what Lucien had told her to be able to find the cabin they would be at.

To make sure Lucien wouldn’t spot her and argue to send her away, she parked by the side of the road for several minutes to let them get ahead. Later on, she passed the three villages Lucien had described in the past, all the way until the decrepit reddish barn that was on the verge of collapsing on the side of the road. Jesminda took the next left, her car shaking on the rocky dirt road.

It took longer than she thought to reach the cabin, but she had been driving slow to make sure she didn’t approach too loudly. The treeline mostly hid her car, but she could see a few others were parked by the cabin, including Helion’s car. Knowing exactly where they were, Jesminda backed up and turned around to wait for nightfall.

If she came close to the cabin once the moon was out, Lucien wouldn’t be able to send her away. He’d see it was safe for them to stay together at all times, and he would no longer hide from her during full moons.

The wait in her car was long, but it was fall and the days kept getting shorter. Soon enough, the sun bathed the forest in golden light. Jesminda smiled to herself, already thinking of the sunrise she’d get to watch with Lucien in the morning. Her mate . She knew he was, was so convinced of it that she was ready to put her life on the line to prove it. Lucien’s reluctance to let her was only proof of how much he loved her too, but soon he would never have to worry about hurting her again.

When the sun fell past the tree line and left space to a sky illuminated by a full moon so bright it hid the stars around it, Jesminda started her car again. Her heart beat faster with excitement, a small smile on her lips as she slowly pulled up to the cabin.

Lucien was impossible to miss. He was huge in that form, still somewhat humanoid but broader, covered in russet hair from head to toe. None of the other wolves were close to him, though she spotted a couple lingering at the edge of the forest. Lucien, her mate , was right there in the open, his elongated face turned towards her as she parked her car and carefully opened the door.

It was exhilarating to see him like that, such a danger to any human who wasn’t her. Still, she took no chances and left the door open, worried slamming it shut might startle him. She took a small step forward, and he took one too. Another, then another, until she could see the reflection of the moon in his eyes.

He didn’t growl, his ears remained perked up, like he was curious but not threatening. Jesminda took it as a good sign.

“I told you we’d be fine.” She smiled at him and held her hand out, trusting.

The wolf pounced without warning.

Blood spilled from her throat onto the ground, staining the grass red in a split second. A larger, darker wolf pummeled into Lucien seconds too late, claws scratching at his face, fangs aiming for his neck without mercy, but there was no changing what he’d done.

Jesminda was dead.

#elucien #elucien fanfiction #elain archeron x lucien vanserra #elain and lucien #lucien x elain #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #elucien fic #acotar fanfiction #elain x lucien

17 notes · View notes

elisysd · 8 months

Text

17. I’ve been thinking way too loud, I wish that I could block me out

Masterlist - Previously - Next

Chapter soundtrack: Block me out - Gracie Abrams

When Ethan came back to his hotel room, Julia was already sleeping. Or at least, she pretended to. After what happened in the ice-bath she almost gathered her things in her suitcase and went to Romy’s hotel room to beg her to stay with her before giving up, thinking she might just be overreacting. So she just decided to hide her face in the sheet, hoping that Ethan would believe she was asleep. And he did, slowly she could feel him removing the sheet and the mattress sinking before feeling the warmth of his body radiating all over the bed. She could feel her heart beat faster, and her breath getting caught up in her throat. She wanted to turn around and remove the barrier of pillows that was separating them as much as she wanted to increase it. She wanted to curl up in his arms as much as she wanted to be far away from him. She wanted to kiss his face because of what he was making her feel as much as she wanted to slap him for the same reason. But she stayed still and she finally let herself fall asleep.

She woke up on race day feeling something weighing down on her belly. It was heavy and hot and was preventing her from moving. Slowly, she opened her eyes and saw Ethan’s forearm resting on the sheet covering her body. She turned her head towards him to see he was still sound asleep. Some pillows were removed, letting his arm find its way to her. Fully awake now, she didn’t dare to move, not wanting to wake him up. But still, she needed to get up. She tried, slowly, to leave his embrace but felt a resistance and was pulled back against the stack of pillows. She thanked the stars, the sun, the moon and everything that could be thanked that the makeshift border still existed. She didn’t even dare to move or to breathe for what mattered, to stunt to move.

Finally, after a long breath in and breathe out, she dragged herself out of the bed in one swift move. She looked at Ethan’s silhouette and saw him moving, as if he was trying to search for her warmth. She heard him groaned before turning away and readjusting his pillow, still asleep. She stayed, observing him, for a moment. He was cute. He looked like a little boy, far away from the arrogant and ruthless image he was giving to other people. But by now, she knew better than to believe it. It was just a facade. Deep down, he was a caring guy with strong values that was hiding this side of him behind a bad boy attitude. She couldn’t believe that she had fallen for it, somehow. But here she was.

On tiptoes, she went to the bathroom for a quick shower before heading out, Ethan was still in his bed but this time, he had taken most of the space. One last look at him and she was out. It was so out outside that she was already sweating and she started to imagine herself in an ice-bath. Maybe she could ask her dad, or Niels and Noah to set one up for her? Her mind went back to Ethan and what she felt when they shared one. How his hands felt around her, how his body fitted against hers as if it was always meant to be, how he ignited a fire within her that had almost consumed her at that moment, how she felt like she couldn’t breathe anymore. It had been too much. But oh God, did she want it to happen again.

Once she arrived at the Skoda hospitality, she was surprised to find it empty. No mechanics, no PR teams when usually they were always the first one to arrive and were usually found gossiping at the coffee machine, no engineers either, just people working for catering. She sighed, at least no one would bother her and she had a large choice of fruits, pastries and other food at her disposal. She didn’t restrict herself, she never did when it came to food anyway, and took a little bit of everything before sitting down near the large open window that had a view on the paddock. Unlocking her phone she saw a few texts from her dad and one from Louis that she immediately opened. It was the first time since the incident that he was talking to her. Well, it was not really talking but it was still something.

Are you still mad at me?

It was way too early in Europe for her to call him and she knew that he was still probably sleeping, but still she replied.

Why would I be? I’m more concerned about YOU being mad at ME.

She was about to put her phone back in her pocket when it buzzed and saw that Louis had already replied.

I’m not mad at you. You are helping Ethan because you are a good person. But I’m mad at him because he forced you to lie to me. I don’t like that. It’s not right. Therefore, I don’t like him. And I’m mad at him.

It’s more complicated than that, Louis. Ethan tries to make things right, you know, and sometimes it requires making choices that don’t feel right. It doesn’t mean he is a bad person. He was great with you! You liked him! It’s not because he made a mistake that you have to hate him. I know that he cares a lot about you.

She waited for an answer that didn’t come. Louis must be back to sleep or trying to figure out her last text. She hesitated to send him another one but gave up on the idea. She didn’t want to overwhelm him. From the window, she could see people starting to arrive and soon the hospitality was crowded. She quickly ate the remainder of her plate and left the place. Her feet took her near the Ferrari hospitality. She was hoping to see her dad so she could know if he had news about Louis and so she could talk to him about her upgrade ideas. She was motivated, she wouldn’t back down today. And she needed to focus on something else rather than her feelings and Ethan.

She finally saw him arriving from afar, his RayBan covering his eyes and his red shirt making him stand out from the crowd. She sped up to catch him and she saw a smile on his face when he recognised her.

“Ju’, what are you doing here so early?”

“I was up early and at least here we have the AC…” she shrugged. “I wanted to see you, do you have five minutes?”

“For you? Always.”

“Great! Can we go somewhere private? I want to show you something.”

“We can go to my office.”

He led the way and Julia could feel the anxiety rising. What if her father told her off? What if he thought she had crossed a line? What if after all the hard work she had put into it, he thought it was still not good enough? Or worse, what if he actually liked it? What would it mean for her? For her career? Would he ask her to come and work with him? And what would she say if he asked her how she had the ideas?

“Ju’? Princess? Are you still with me?” her dad’s voice interrupted her train of thoughts.

“What?”

“I was asking you what you wanted to talk about?”

“Oh, hum… well, I don’t know how you will take it and i don’t want you to be mad or to think I overstepped but I had a little time off, where I was bored out of my mind and I started to think about your cars and wondered if I could try to come up with something that could help and… I know it’s not my job and you have all the rights to get angry and…” she stuttered.

“Show me.”

Julia stopped rambling and looked at her dad trying to process the answer.

“You want my opinion so, show me.”

She gave him her folder where notes and drawings and data simulation were written down, as well as annotations on the side and waited. She saw her dad frowning, rereading things, annotating and circling things on the paper before taking his phone and calling what she supposed was someone at the factory and speaking Italian way too fast for her to understand anything. Finally, he hung up and looked at her.

“It’s not perfect, of course, you don’t have all the info. But I think you might be onto something. We need to try it out on the simulator before doing anything but, Ju”, you might just have saved our first part of the season.”

“Re…Really? Like, for real? You like it?”

He nodded enthusiastically.

“You must be really bored at Skoda if you start to work on our package…”

“I mean… they don’t let me do anything, so might as well work on something else…” she confessed, sitting on the chair in front of her dad’s desk.

“What do you mean, they don’t let you do anything?”

“It’s just… Wilhelm says I’m not a team player. And now I’m working on organization stuff, as he liked to call it, when in reality I’m only putting cables and nuts in the right boxes… Not really what I had imagined when I started.”

“Do you want me to talk to him?”

“No. I don’t want to look like I asked for your help, it will only make everything worse. He’s already thinking I’m not deserving my place in the team and I’m only here because I’m your daughter… But, as you always say, it’s like that. I just hope to have a better opportunity in the near future.” she added while emphasizing the near, looking at her dad.

He didn’t answer, only nodded still looking at her graphs. She was proud of her and it went better than she expected. And he didn’t even ask questions. She excused herself and left as she was supposed to attend a meeting with the whole team to discuss the future plans and upgrades.

When she arrived, she wasn’t late but she was in the last ones to come in, earning a few judgemental side glances. She found a seat near Niels and Noah and got to them. They were laughing at something that Niels was showing on his phone. When she approached them and asked what they were laughing about, Niels just showed her his screen where a red panda was doing rolls, or attempting too, resulting in cute little missteps from the animal.

“Pandas are so cute…” said Julia, still in awe in front of the animal.

“Yeah, they are adorable and funny at the same time.” added Noah.

“You know, I was thinking…” started Niels.

“Oh, dangerous…”

“Shut up, Noah. As I was saying, I was thinking. We are soon heading to the Chinese GP in Shanghai and I know there is a zoo where we can see them, so what are you guys thinking of going there to visit? We could make it a group activity! Like, we could invite Ethan, Romy, the Lambo guys and what about Ferrari? You are close to the drivers, right Julia?”

“I don’t think inviting Martin and Elijah would be a good idea…”

“Oh yeah, that would create unnecessary drama with Ethan. Almost forgot that for an instant.”

They kept chatting for a few minutes until Wilhelm arrived and asked for the room to be silent. He started by thanking everyone for their involvement and hard work throughout the first races, saying how every individual was an essential part of the team and Julia couldn’t help but think how bullshit that was. He turned his head towards Niels and Noah and praised them for their results and feedback. She heard them sighed. Being praised for being in the bottom of the leader board was not something an athlete liked to hear. The team principal then turned to the presentation screen with a proud smile on his face.

“I would like to introduce you to something I’ve been working on with our technical leads in Warsaw. The next upgrades for our car and what we expect them to correct on the current one.”

And Julia felt a stone dropping in her stomach. It was her ideas, the ones she showed him a few weeks ago and the reason why she had been pushed into the background. The reason why she had started to work on Ferrari’s cars was because she felt useless here. And now, not only her ideas were displayed for everyone to see, but Wilhelm was getting praised for a work that wasn’t his. She felt bile going up her throat. But what could she do? It’s not like she could scream that he was stealing her work. No one would believe her anyway. So she swallowed her pride and tried to act as if everything was fine.

Once the meeting was over, she was the first one out of the room. Everything in her wanted to go to Wilhelm and confront him, but she knew that he wouldn’t hesitate to fire her for insubordination. And she didn’t want that. She knew that something like that could happen, she thought she could handle it and be ready but the truth was she was not.

She had a few hours to kill before the race, so she took her bag and went out to wander around the paddock. Her feet took her to the Maserati garage without even noticing it. She had not seen Ethan since the morning and she was ashamed to admit it but she was missing him. It was stupid! It had only been a few hours! How could she be already missing him? It made no sense. He also was the only person that she wanted to tell about what happened during the meeting. He already knew about her struggles there. It would not surprise him. And she knew he would support her. And she needed that. She needed someone to understand her without having to tell everything. She just needed his shoulders to cry on. If she still had tears left to cry.

She tried to catch a glimpse of him but the garage seemed empty for the most part. Maybe, just like Skoda, they had a team meeting. She hid in a corner, away from everyone and waited. It didn’t take too long as a few minutes later she saw his blond hair peeking through the door. Since when could she recognize him by his hair? He was already wearing his white fireproofs that were clinging to his body. She tried to catch his attention by approaching the entrance. He was in deep conversation with his race engineer but someone else did see her. A woman, well dressed that she was sure belonged to the PR team. She was way too overdressed to be a mechanic or an engineer.

“Miss Leclerc, right?” she asked, throwing Julia off of her feet.

“Yeah? How do you know me?”

“You are hard to miss. The daughter of a third times world champion and team principal of the Scuderia, here in the paddock? You are what everybody is talking about. I’m Ashley, by the way. Head of the media team.”

“Well, nice to meet you, I guess.”

“Yeah, very nice. Especially since we will see each other a lot in the next few weeks.”

“What do you mean?” asked Julia.

“Ethan. The PR relationship. I must admit it was a clever move from him, one I didn’t see coming and it’s my job to see these kinds of things coming. But I have to admit, this relationship has a lot of potential. I didn’t think he would be this smart and able to come out with something like that. You both have to be more careful with your public appearances, for now stay on the down low until I find the perfect way to present your relationship to the world.” Ashley explained, leaving Julia completely stunt.

“Present our relationship to the world? I don’t understand.”

“Julia.. Can I call you Julia? Even if the scandal died down a little, it doesn’t need a big thing for it to blow up again. You must have noticed how Ethan is less present in the media activities. We are keeping him in check, focusing on his career. The rumors around his supposed new relationship with you didn’t damage his image, but I can’t say that it had been making any good toit either. He just looked like someone that didn’t care about the rumored girl expecting his child. That’s why it is important that when the right time comes, you guys show love and support and above all, a united front. I think of photoshoots, paddock walks hand in hand, cute moments during races.We are going to stage anything, you won’t have to worry. The only thing you need to worry about is to look happy and in love, sweetie. Do we understand each other? I’m sure we do.”

“Ashley? What are you doing?”

Ethan had finally noticed Julia, alone with the blonde woman and went straight to them, standing protectively next to Julia.

“I’m explaining to her what is expected of her in the upcomings weeks.”

“Not until Monza, I thought we were clear about that.”

“We are. It gives me enough time to prepare everything. I just want you both to be ready because when we launch this relationship, it will attract a lot of attention.”

And with these last few words she left. Julia released the breath she was unintentionally holding and turned to Ethan.

“You told them?”

“I couldn’t hide us any longer, they had to know. And it gives us enough time to get prepared for whatever they are going to throw at us. Because I know Ashley, I know how good she is at her job and how scary she can be. She is damn good but I won’t lie, I prefer to have her by my side than to have her against me. But anyway, don’t worry about her. What are you doing around here, shouldn’t you be with your team?”

He saw her face crumpled and her shoulders sunk. She let out a heavy sigh and Ethan took her by the arms to get her away from the crowd that was starting to form around the paddock. The both headed behind the garage where most of the equipment was, and Julia let herself fall on a box.

“Wilhelm is stealing my ideas.” she simply said.

“Fucking bastard. I knew there was a reason why I’ve never liked him in the first place. How do you feel? Sorry, it’s a stupid question. Of course you must feel horrible.”

“I feel robbed. Well, I’ve been robbed! He stole my ideas and didn’t even acknowledge me! Like… he presented them as if he was the one behind it!”

“Dick move.”

“Yeah! And he got praised, of course! Everyone looked at him like he was God, the one that was going to save Skoda from being the shitty team they are!”

“How dare they?”

“And I stood on the side, feeling angry. I swear, I was this close to go up there and take his microphone to tell the truth, but I care too much about my job to do something like that.”

“Well… maybe you shouldn’t.” finally said Ethan.

“What do you mean, I shouldn’t?” she repeated.

“He clearly is disrespecting you. And he is always belittling you. He makes you feel like you are not part of the team. Maybe you should just tell him to go fuck himself.”

“And then, what would I do? You know how fast words are spreading out there, he would just need to say that I’m not reliable and no one would take me, and then my dream to work in F1 would be over…”

“That’s not true. Any team would be happy to have you. Ferrari for starters, your dad would take you.”

“He wants me to prove myself, I’m not sure that quitting at the first difficulty is something he wants to see me doing…” she mumbled.

“Okay, then if not Ferrari, Audi! Romy would be the first to push for your application to be considered. And they are the only team to have full gender equality. They have as many women working as mechanics than as engineers. You would have a voice there, they would listen to you.”

“Okay… fine, let’s say Audi would be an option. What else do I have?”

“Me. I mean, Maserati. You stay for a while with me there and then, when I’ll get that seat at Lambo, I take you with me to work on my car and we are world champions together. How nice does that seem? Surely, it would look nice on your CV.”

“Sounds very idealistic.” she smiled. “ And it’s optimistic from you to think that we wouldn’t end up killing each other at some point.”

Ethan laughed slightly and she joined him. He had a way of making her forget her problems. Even if it was just for a little while. He crouched down in front of her and took her hands in his, making her look at him.

“You are great, Julia. Talented and smart and ambitious and honest and hard-working, I can keep going if you want. Don’t waste your time in a team that clearly doesn’t deserve you. You don’t deserve losers, you deserve winners. That’s on that side that you belong. That you’ve always belonged. That you will always belong. I know that in the future, teams will fight to have you working for them.”

“I wish I could believe in myself as much as you do.” she whispered.

“Don’t worry, I can believe in you enough for us both.”

They locked eyes and Julia could swear that Ethan quickly looked at her lips. But it had been too fast for her to be one hundred percent sure. The silence was heavy as if both of them were scared to make a move that would break the bubble they were in. But it had to be broken at some point, they both had duties to perform and it was Julia who made the decision.

“I should go, I still have stuff to do, even if it’s boring.”

“I should go to… Everyone will be searching for me and I don’t want to be told off.”

“Break a leg for the race but try to not break the car, okay?”

He laughed and took a few steps back before stopping and turning to her. She was still there, her gaze still on him. He quickly got back to her, engulfing her in his arms before planting a kiss on her forehead. He would have stayed like this if it had been possible, but he had to go. Reluctantly, he let her go, still feeling her skin against his lips.

Julia felt better, walking back to the Skoda garage. It felt like the heaviness of her day had been lifted off of her shoulders after seeing Ethan. She wasn’t sure if he had been completely honest while he was cheering her up, but still she appreciated the effort. She wasn’t surprised to see everyone ignoring her. She felt invisible in this team. She was sure that if she was leaving, no one would notice her absence. That hurt somehow, but it made her realize that she was worth better than that, Ethan was right. She had one hour left to spare before the start and decided to go to Niels, to see how he was feeling before the race.

She had never imagined that she would grow close to the drivers, but here she was. In this hell of a work environment she was glad that she had been able to make some friends, some allies. She went to his driver’s room and knocked. She could almost swear she heard someone gasping inside and muffled voices.

“Niels? Are you in there?”

She didn’t hear anything at first and she thought that she was starting to get crazy if she was hearing voices but something falling on the floor. There was definitely someone inside.

“I can hear someone inside, you know? It’s unnecessary to hide. Unless you are not Niels and in this case you are going to get into trouble. I’m gonna open this door, just so you know. And my dad enrolled me in karate classes when I was younger, so I know how to fight and…”

She didn’t even have the time to finish when a disheveled and red Niels opened the door.

“Julia… hey… I wasn’t expecting you.” he tried to say, nonchalantly.

“Sure, you didn’t. What were you doing there?” she asked suspiciously, eyeing him up and down.

“Me? Nothing? Why?”

“I heard voices and something falling on the floor. Aren’t you alone?”

“I like to talk to myself before races. You know, to cheer me on. That’s my little pre race ritual.”

“Does your ritual imply having the fly of your pants wide open?”

“Shit!” he exclaimed looking even more flushed than he already was.

“So you are not alone.”

“I… well… oh fuck, how am I going to get out of this…. Please don’t say anything to anyone.” he begged her as she was looking across the room.

“Niels… don’t tell me he is in the closet? That would be a very obvious place to hide.”

“He is not.” he quickly replied.

She shook her head while rolling her eyes, still looking around. That’s when she saw an all too familiar t-shirt. She could recognise it anywhere for the very simple reason that she was wearing the same at this precise moment. Niels was wearing it as well, the only difference between Niels’ and the one in front of her, was the driver’s number and the name. She picked it up and with a half smile looked at Niels, holding the white Skoda piece of clothing in her hand.

“Noah? You can come out from wherever you are.”

Author's note: What do you think will happen next? Let me know your theories, I love to read them.

Don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask, as well as reblogging and leaving a like. It helps a lot for the story to find its audience. I also have a taglist for this story, so if you want to be added so you never miss a chapter, let me know.

Taglist:

@herondalism @aundercover @musingsbyshreya @karmabyfernando @reengard @mycenterfold @smoooothoperator

#writing #fiction #charles leclerc #max vertsappen #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #charles leclerc fanfic #max verstappen fanfic #f1 story #f1 x oc

20 notes · View notes

firebloodanddragons · 2 years

Text

OF DRAGONS AND LAMBS - CHAPTER 2 (AEMOND TARGARYEN X READER)

Chapter Summary: There are two rules you should take into consideration. One, you should never insult Prince Aemond Targaryen. Two, you should never forget him. Because he remembers you and the riddle you asked him when you two were just children.

Tags for this chapter: Slow Burn / Sexual Tension/ Angst / Canon-Typical Violence / Blood and Gore/ Children Abuse / Explicit Language

Author’s notes: As you will see, I’m started building the relationship between Reader and Aemond and we’re now entering the “slow burn” part of this fan fiction. If you find the tension between those two intense, you haven’t seen anything yet.

[CHAPTER 1]

/!\ I repost this chapter because it never appeared in the tags

CHAPTER 2: THE RIDDLE

120AC - King’s Landing (9 years ago)

Aemond could feel his scar burning and tightening under the many layers of bandage covering half of his childish and pale face. He wanted to get rid of them, rip them off and his skin along with them. He wanted to shout his rage and his pain as loud as he could as his little fingers would struggle to prise the white cloth loose. But he did none of these things. Instead, he stared blankly at his mother talking to the maester. “Are you certain the infection will not spread or fester, maester?” The Queen worried. Her son had spent days in bed with the highest fever she had ever seen, tossing and turning endlessly, moaning in pain even though he had never been the type to complain. A vision of horror for any mother. “The eye has been removed. Fever might persist for a few more days but the prince is out of danger. He just needs to rest now.” The Queen thanked the old maester and he left. Once the door shut, Alicent rushed to her son and sat on the bed to cup his face between her hands and kiss the top of his silver head. The young prince winced but the pain was not what bothered him the most. What bothered him the most was his mother’s pity. He was tired of it. Ever since Lucerys took his eye, that’s the only emotion he had seen on his mother’s face. “My poor sweet son.” “I told you, mother. There is no need to mourn me.” Aemond finally spoke with a weak voice that made Alicent tighten her embrace around her second son. “Besides, aren’t you expected somewhere else?” “What are you talking about? A mother’s place is by her son.” “But today is the beginning of the celebrations, isn’t it?” Despite his current health condition, Aemond had somehow not lose track of time. He knew which day it was for he had seen the colourful lanterns in the streets and heard the joyful hubbub through his bedroom windows. Plus, his older siblings, Aegon and Helaena, had mentioned the event a few times during their visits. And while his sister had wished him a good recovery and expressed her hope to see him back on his feet for the very special day, Aegon had only talked about all the depravity he had planned. “Ale and girls. Soon, you’ll know how good both are.” Which certainly was Aegon’s clumsy way to show he wanted his brother to get better. “I do not need to go.” “Yes, you do. It’s your duty as queen.” Alicent’s almond eyes widened, stunned once more by her son’s maturity and his sense of duty which he had undoubtedly inherited from her. She stood up, speechless and left his room in silence. Only when she closed the door did she realise she had forgotten to tell Aemond that her duty as his mother was more important.

The young prince stayed in bed for the rest of day, alone, his short nails furiously scratching the bandage around his face hoping it would ease the annoying itching and the endless burn. He couldn’t sleep, the anger fuming inside of him preventing him from finding any rest. All he could do was waiting and let his hatred boil and boil like a fire growing in a dragon’s throat before it spits. And soon he found the cheerful noise outside infuriating. How could people be so happy when he was in such pain? In a thoughtless display of rage, Aemond grabbed one of the many pillows on his bed and threw it through the window with a muffled scream. Only when the pillow landed in the yard outside, did he realise what he had done. “Fuck.” For a moment, he thought about what his mother would say and what pathetic excuse he could find. But he didn’t want to find an excuse. He didn’t want Alicent to find out what he had done, that he had lost control. So, he slowly got up. His legs were wobbly and weak and it took the young prince a few seconds to make his first step. With a slow and heavy hand, he grabbed a cloak and put it on his shoulder. And then he hid his face under the dark hood before leaving his room.

The stairs leading to the yard seemed endless but not once did Aemond think about going back to his room, his determination stronger than his pain. But when he finally arrived outside, exhausted and dizzy, he didn’t find the pillow on the sandy ground. He found it in a possession of a girl. You. You were Aemond’s age or perhaps slightly older, small, with a floral dress as pink as your childish rosy cheeks. And within your thin arms there was the feather pillow the prince had thrown out of the window. You were looking up clearly searching for the provenance of the flying object with an interrogative frown when the young boy approached you and snatched it from you. You gasped and protested immediately. “What do you think you’re doing?” “It’s mine.” “Yours, huh? Then mayhaps you should be careful with your belongings. It almost fell on my head.” “My deepest sympathies.” Aemond replied with sarcasm before wincing. His grimace didn’t go unnoticed and you frowned at his bandage-covered face concealed under his hood. He immediately looked down and tried to hide himself even more under his cloak as he found you curious eyes rather disconcerting. “May I ask—” “It’s greyscale!!” Aemond snarled. It was a lie obviously but he told it hoping the fear of contagion would make you run away. But you weirdly remained as close as you were. “I just wished to know why you threw a pillow out of a window.” You said. “It was never my intention to make you feel uncomfortable or to believe I was rude enough to ask what happened to you when it is clearly not my concern. I am sorry.” Aemond’s both eyes slightly widened in confusion even the one that was not in its socket anymore. A ghost reflex he hoped would be gone one day. He grimaced but your apologetic words were more overwhelming than the pain caused by his fresh scar. Never in his young life had anyone apologized to him. Not Aegon for all his high jinks. Not his nephews and cousins for beating him up. Not Lucerys for taking his eye. And even less his father for ignoring him. “Who are you?” “I am Y/N Stokeworth. And you?” “My name has no importance.” The silver-haired prince declared. The last thing he wanted was for his mother to know he had left his chambers or for anyone to discover that this mutilated face was once the face of the second son of Viserys Targaryen. “So, you can know my name but I am not allowed to know yours?” Aemond shrugged. “You can ask another question if you wish.” “Fine.” You knew exactly which question to ask. “Why did you throw your pillow out of the window?” You wanted to giggle but you quickly reconsidered. Clearly the boy before you was more of the serious type. “I was angry.” He confessed though he felt weird to do so. “At whom?” “At the rat who did this to me. The bastard took my eye.” Aemond snarled as he pointed at his missing eye. So much rage in such a little body was impressive and most unusual to you. So, you stared at the fiery emotion struggling to pop out of its flesh prison wondering how such a young boy could carry so much hatred. It was insane to see how it kept his fist clenched and ready to fight and how intense it burnt in his dark lilac iris. “What happened to it? The rat I mean.” “That’s the unfair part of the story. Nothing happened to it. His rat mother made sure of it.” The rage was now tinted by bitterness and disappointment, a thirst for justice that could be consuming. “I am not sure I understand.” “Rats are sneakier than dragons.” You frowned once more. The boy’s words sounded like nonsense to you. Rats and Dragons? What was that supposed to mean? “Have you been given milk of the poppy?” “Why?” “You’re talking in riddles.” “And you don’t like riddles?” “I don’t know if I like them. My handmaiden, Brunwina, often gives me a riddle when I’m being too … restless, to help me focus. But I haven’t been able to solve the last one she gave me actually. Would you like to help?” The proposition was not without a purpose. By offering Aemond to think about your riddle, you hoped that you could help him forget his rage for a short moment. A technique you had learnt from your handmaiden. Aemond shrugged, pretending to be cool, but deep down his usual love for challenge was exciting him. “What is your riddle?” You grinned and sat on one of the steps behind you. “We are going to be here for a while. You should sit down.” You tapped the stone and invited the boy to sit by your side. He stared at your hand for an instant before eventually joining you on the steps, careful to leave a seemly space between the two of you. “I am of no use to one, yet I am absolute bliss to two. The small boy gets it for nothing. The young man has to steal it. The old man has to buy it. To the young girl, I am faith. To the married woman, hope. And to the old maid, charity.” “Bread?” “I’ve already tried that. Let’s keep thinking.” You encouraged as you gazed with pride and joy at Aemond’s hands slowly relaxing on his thighs and at the rage leaving his lilac eyes. Lilac eyes??

129AC - King’s Landing (Today)

Only twice in your life have you feared to die. The first time was thirteen years ago when, on a trip back from Pentos, you had started experiencing the worst nausea ever. It could have been a mere sea sickness but after further examination, the maester in Stokeworth had come to the conclusion that you had caught a highly infectious disease. Despite the possibility of contagion, your mother, who was with child during that time, had refused to leave your bedside and she had powerlessly watched you losing more and more weight every day. She had prayed for days. She had begged the seven gods for your recovery until her wishes were finally granted. But soon the sickness came for her and she took your place in the very same bed you had been lying for more than a week. “It’s better to keep the contagion contained” The maester had said. Your mother died three days after and her baby along with her. And as if your own grief and guilt were not burdening enough for your small shoulders you had to carry the weight of your father’s rage and sorrow. “You’re going to sleep in that bed until you realise what you’ve done!” The punishment lasted for over a year until your father remarried and his new lady-wife reasoned with him. The second time was today. And even though the experience had been less traumatic, the terror had been more than overwhelming. You had always wished to see a dragon but you had never thought you’d see one up close, yet alone one so enraged. Princess Rhaenys and her dragon Meleys had made quite a brutal entrance during King Aegon’s coronation today. The large and formidable beast had popped out from the ground, roaring and furious and with her thorny body and tail she had started crushing all the citizens around her. Luckily for you, you had been in the balcony when it happened and you had only received a few stones during Meleys’ deadly rampage. Your husband, also present during the coronation, had shielded you the best he could. But no one had protected the woman next to you when a heavy rock had hit her head, crushing her skull like an eggshell before she fell to the ground, bleeding and dead, and all the people around you started trampling on her corpse, breaking each bone in her body. Seven hells, you could still hear the sounds in your head.

A knock to your door called you back to a most-welcome reality and you invited the person to come in. When you saw your handmaiden enter the room, the smile you thought could only be polite or sad today turned into a beam of joy and relief. “Brunwina!” You exclaimed as you stood up to take her in your arms. You were aware that this kind of familiar gesture was not conventional but you had stopped seeing Brunwina as a mere handmaiden years ago. The six-and-thirty years-old woman was your confident, your friend, the mother you had lost long ago. There was no one you could trust more than her. “Seven heavens, my lady. Are you alright?” She touched your face where a stone had hit you and left a bruise and a red scratch. “I am, yes. It is merely a scratch. The maester said it won’t leave any mark.” “When I heard you were at the Dragonpit when the attack happened, I got so scared for you, my lady.” You reassured your handmaid with a soft smile and a gentle grasp around her arms and she immediately relaxed. “I am surprised the King let you out of your cell already, Brunwina. But I am glad to have you back. I could use your nimble fingers.” “Of course, you could, my lady. Look at you. I can’t let you attend a royal feast with your hair dressed like that.” You both laughed but she was right. Your hair was indeed a real mess. The braids you had attempted to do for tonight coronation feast were barely symmetrical and none of them seemed to have a similar thickness. “Thank the Seven and Prince Aemond for releasing me.” “Prince Aemond? You weren’t release on King Aegon’s command?” Brunwina shook her head. “I am as surprised as you are, my lady. But Prince Aemond himself escorted the guards to my cell and demanded my immediate release. He said you needed me, my lady and that your septa and I were no longer hostages. What a strange young man.” “Indeed, and rude as well.” You could remember your meeting, how he had circled you, observed you and talked about you as if you were not standing before him. “If you say so, my lady. Although, if I may, he seemed very distinguished to me, at least more than his brother the King. He also looked more impressive than him and … weirdly older. It is hard to believe he is the second son.” “Careful Brunwina, one might think you are not insensible to young men or to Prince Aemond’s charms.” You teased. “Oh seven heavens no, my lady.” Brunwina shook her head frantically as she blushed in embarrassment. “I am a handmaiden. I know my place. And besides, I find him too menacing. I don’t know how one can even look at him in the eyes.” “In the eye, you mean.” You quickly corrected and immediately tried to hide your mischievous smirk, knowing how inappropriate it was to joke or let alone laugh at that sort of thing. But Brunwina’s funny astonishment forced the giggle out of your mouth. And soon your handmaid followed you in a burst of laughter that you both needed after such a rough day. Unfortunately, the reckless amusement was short-lived, stopped by the appalled stare of a young handmaid standing at the door with a green dress in her hands. When you and Brunwina noticed her, she walked away as quickly as she could. “Seven hells.” You cursed. You knew where the girl was going and what she was about to do. So did Brunwina who started shaking in terror. So, you rushed after the handmaiden, hoping to stop her but the Red Keep was a maze of corridors and by the time you exited your chambers the servant was already out of sight as if she had vanished in thin air. “Shit!”

***

Her hands flat on the cold stone ground, her head between her arms, Brunwina was crying on her knees, begging for Prince Aemond’s pardon and mercy. But he didn’t seem to care about her mumbling words or her undeniable submission to him. Actually, he didn’t seem to care about her presence at all. It was as if she did not exist, as if she was yet another carpet in his room, one he could walk upon without concern. He didn’t care about his own handmaiden either, who was standing a couple of steps behind him, still like a candelabrum, her brown eyes looking down at her feet. No all he seemed to care about was you, the only person in this room who dared staring back at him. “I could have you two back in your cell or maimed for being so insulting!” He roared; his voice as enraged as the darkness in his dark lilac eye. “Prince Aemond, I am so sorry. Please accept my apologies, my prince. Please, I beg your forgiveness.” Brunwina kept crying. “You may act as you wish in Castle Stokeworth, my lady. But in the Red Keep, people have eyes and ears everywhere. And you are a silly girl if you think you could mock your prince and then expect no one to find out.” “I didn’t think when I spoke, my prince, and I regret my offense.” You confessed with honesty. “But my handmaiden did not say anything, I swear to you on the old gods and the new. If someone deserve to be punished, it is I and I only.” The prince chuckled at your brave and honourable words and you wondered why. Was your behaviour misplaced? Amusing? Did he find you ridiculous? Or was he simply enjoying the fear he instilled in people, the power his royal status granted him? “She still laughed at your … little joke.” “She did not. She laughed at me for being so … silly.” You repeated his words, hoping agreeing with him a little would soothe him. “And I know I shouldn’t have joked, my prince. It was highly inappropriate and rude and I understand why it offended you. Please accept my apology and know it was never my attention to show you any lack of respect.” Your unwavering calm and strength plunged the room in a sudden dreadful silence. Prince Aemond’s glare lingered upon your face, his purple eye piercing as a thousand blades. But you remained as strong and proud as you could be, supporting his fiery look. “Leave us.” He commanded without looking away from you and you from him. Prince Aemond’s handmaid obeyed without an ounce of hesitation but Brunwina tried to fight his command with the little courage she had. You sensed her terrified look on you, her refusal to leave you alone. You even felt her tremble when the King’s brother said “Now!”. You gave her a quick nod to dismiss her and she eventually left. “Do you have any idea what happens to subjects who dare insult a member of the royal family?” Aemond finally asked when the door was closed. “I may have one but mayhaps my prince can enlighten me.” “We cut out their tongue or worse.” The silver-haired man declared with the intention to scare you. “Surely you must have heard what happened to Lord Vaemond Velaryon.” He added as he approached you and closed the small gap between the two of you. He was tall, way taller than you but your eyes didn’t look away from his. If he meant to impress you or to break you by towering you it would not work. “If it’s a tongue you want, take mine. I am the one who uttered what you consider an insult, not my handmaiden.” “You would accept a punishment that could leave you scarred for life when it can befall on your handmaiden?” “If it the kind of justice the Prince deems fair, then yes. Besides, it would not be the worst punishment of my life”

Perhaps you should have refrained from saying these last words because they certainly awoke whatever dragon was sleeping inside Prince Aemond who grabbed your jaw in his firm burning hand and brought your face closer to his. You were breathless now but your eyes could not leave his. But this time it was not boldness or courage, it was indeed fear, a fear that was so cold in comparison to the Targaryen’s hot breath on your face. You had seen the dagger strapped to his waist and you knew just by looking at him he would not hesitate to use it. He was a hot-tempered man and clearly unforgiving. That was a certainty. The only mystery that remained was; was he going to cut your tongue or slit your throat like a lamb? You gasped and closed your eyes tightly when you felt something touch your lips. But that something was too soft and too hot to be a blade. So, you opened your eyes again to see what was threatening you. It was a thumb. Prince Aemond’s thumb tugging at your lower lip, playing with the pulpy rosy flesh, slowly and rather … gently? Puzzled, you watched him gaze at your mouth with a burning curiosity, wondering what he could be thinking right now. “I will not cut out your tongue, my lady.” He finally said without removing his finger. “It would be ill-timed to enforce such a cruel punishment on a day of celebration. Besides, my brother might want to use that tongue.” Aemond tugged at your lower lip a little bit more, forcing your mouth to open enough to reveal your teeth and the tip of your tongue. Still and breathless, you kept observing him when his thumb came to brush your wet pink flesh and he consequently pursed his lips to prevent an inconvenient moan from escaping his mouth. But you heard it rumble in his chest and in his throat as if the sound had come from you. The proximity of his body perhaps. After all, his young scared face was so close now, you could hardly see the whole of it. “It’s a kiss.” He declared; his lips close to yours. “I beg you pardon.” You were choked up, your strangled voice as low as whisper. But you were not scared anymore. You were intrigued, disoriented and almost dizzy. Your cheeks were burning, your heart was pounding and you could feel a knot growing in your stomach. “I am of no use to one, yet I am absolute bliss to two. The small boy gets it for nothing. The young man has to steal it. The old man has to buy it. To the young girl, I am faith. To the married woman, hope. And to the old maid, charity. The answer is a kiss.” And as if your lips had just burnt him, Aemond let go of your face and stepped back. You gazed at him incredulous and lost but all his dark lilac eyes gave you was stoicism. The rage was gone, almost as if it had never been. And without saying another word, he stormed out of his own apartment, leaving you all alone. “Lilac eyes?” You whispered to yourself.

[CHAPTER 3]

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fan fiction #of dragons and lambs

111 notes · View notes

castletown-cafe · 1 year

Text

Castletown Café Episode 23: Fried Pipis

“HEY EVERY !! IT’S ME!! SPAM- SPAMTON G. SPAMTON! [Back by popular demand] W1TH [[AN ALL-NEW]] VERY SPECIL PRODUCT!! Y0U [Want it? Need it?] MORE [[PIPIS]]? YOU [GOT IT]!! EAHEAHEAHEAHEA!!”

Another Spring, another pipis recipe!

If you’ve played a certain...alternate route in Chapter 2, you’re likely familiar with the FriedPipis action you can take during the final battle. This action implies that pipis may be edible. This wouldn’t be too surprising, since they resemble eggs and are described as “an invasive species of freshwater clam”.

Which gave me the idea of a scotch egg with a shrimp filling instead of sausage.

While I mostly stick to plant protein, seafood was the one meat I just couldn’t give up, so I still eat it from time to time. I thought a Scotch egg with shrimp sounded delicious (especially with soy sauce), though unsurprisingly, finely minced shrimp doesn’t hold together as nicely as ground sausage, beef, or plant-based protein. I solved this problem by making a “shrimp batter” by mixing together the minced raw shrimp with beaten egg, panko, and flour in order for it to hold together. Minced scallions, ginger, and soy sauce were extra ingredients added to give the batter even more flavor. The eggs were coated in this batter before breading them.

If you’re either allergic to shellfish or just don’t like seafood, you can always make a traditional Scotch egg instead with ground sausage, turkey, or impossible sausage. I bet it’ll be easier than a shrimp batter.

The hardest part, of course, is step one: soft-boiling the eggs. In order to prevent the eggs from overcooking during the frying stage, the eggs are soft-boiled as opposed to hard-boiled.

Soft-boiling eggs is tricky. There are a lot of variables involved that can get in the way of perfect eggs - even professional chefs can’t always get it 100%! Things like the altitude you live in, or the size or freshness of an egg, all play a role in whether or not the shell will stick to the egg. Although the eggs you buy at a grocery store might have aged enough for the shell to slide off without a hitch after boiling, it’s recommended to buy your eggs at least a week in advance, just in case.

For soft-boiling, the trick I was shown (thank you, roomie) is to, for one, reduce the heat from high to medium high shortly before adding in the eggs. Do it carefully with a slotted spoon. Immediately, once the eggs are all in, set your timer to 8 minutes. Since I use the timer on my phone, I set it to 8 before the eggs are submerged, but don’t hit start until after they’re all in there. Soft-boiling the eggs for a full 8 minutes should help prevent the eggs from sticking to the shell when it’s time to peel them.

While they’re boiling and your timer’s ticking, fill up a bowl of cold water and add plenty of ice. Do not skimp. The eggs will go immediately into that ice water once they’re done. This will stop them from continuing to cook. Be sure to remove the eggs off the heat first because you will be adding them one at a time into the bowl of ice water.

You can let ‘em cool for however long you like, and you could stick ‘em in the fridge once they’re done, but since you’ll be dyeing the eggs next, I suggest keeping them at room temperature after they are done cooling.

Next, it’s time to peel and dye the eggs. Hopefully you got lucky and your eggs slid out of their shells just fine. If they’re a little messy, no worries - they’ll be coated in shrimp batter and fried anyway. For the dye, simply make a solution using water, rice vinegar, and a mix of blue and green food coloring.

PIPIS TRANSFORMATION POTION:

2 cups water

4 tablespoons rice vinegar

24 drops blue food coloring

10 drops green food coloring

The longer you leave the eggs in, the more vivid the color will get. Once done, remove the eggs from their dye bath and place them on a plate lined with a paper towel to absorb some of that excess dye. Blot them with another paper towel to dry them off a little so that the flour and batter will stick to the eggs better. Finally, it’s time to make the shrimp batter.

FRIED PIPIS:

Batter:

1 and 1/4 cup finely minced raw shrimp (pre-prepared: headless, tailless, deveined and peeled)

1 to 2 beaten eggs

About 4 finely minced scallion whites

1 thumb freshly minced ginger

2 teaspoons soy sauce (you can add a little more to taste if you’d like)

1/4 cup and 2 tablespoons panko

1/2 cup four

Assembly:

4 soft-boiled eggs, cooled, peeled, and dyed

Shrimp batter

1 cup flour

2 eggs, beaten

1 cup panko

Wash and dry both your scallions and ginger. Peel and cut off about a thumb of ginger and mince it into tiny pieces. Mince your scallion whites likewise, and add both into a mixing bowl.

Since you will be mincing raw meat next, grab a different cutting board if you have one to keep your main one clean, and chop a couple heaping handfuls of shrimp into small chunks, enough to fill a measuring cup up to 1 and 1/4 cup. Add to your mixing bowl, then thoroughly wash your hands, knife, cutting board, and work surface afterward!

Next, beat eggs in a small bowl and pour it in. Add in your soy sauce, panko, and flour, then mix it all together until your batter has formed.

Re-use the bowl you beat your eggs in to beat two more eggs for the outer layer of panko coating.

Get two more bowls, one for flour, and one for panko. Pour a cup of flour in one bowl, and a cup of panko in the other.

Grab your eggs and begin the assembly! First, coat your eggs in flour so that the batter can stick to the egg easier, then coat that sucker up in the batter. Roll your battered egg in the flour once again, then the beaten egg, and finally the panko. Repeat this process until all of your eggs are battered and breaded.

Heat a pot with plenty of oil for frying. With the use of a candy or deep-fat thermometer, keep an eye on the temperature so that it reaches at least 375 degrees F. Once your oil is hot enough, it’s time to fry!

Fry your [PIPIS] until the panko is golden brown and the shrimp is fully cooked on the inside. It may be hard to tell when they’re done, as the outside will cook the fastest. The microwave is your friend if the shrimp hasn’t cooked all the way.

Enjoy! And....don’t manipulate your friends into freezing everyone in sight......

#castletown cafe #deltarune #deltarune chapter 2 #pipis #pipis deltarune #spamton #spamton g spamton #spamton fanart #spamton neo #fried pipis #scotch egg #cw food #scotch egg recipe #deltarune food #deltarule inspired recipe #long post #gonna reblog my art again here cause reasons

33 notes · View notes

royalelusts · 1 year

Note

Hello! Not sure if your requests are open but if they are then can I request Lucifer, Mammon, Satan, Barbatos (you can remove or add characters, I don't mind!) with gn!mc (maybe teen? if you're alright with that) who's like extremely clumsy and gets hurt easily over literally anything.

And basically, one day they arrive at home and they have bad injury or smaller one but noticable, and when boy asks them about it they go like:

"Oh, I didn't even noticed!" and continues about their day like nothing happened.

It's completely alright if you don't want to do it! Like I understand that this topic might be a little uncomfortable so just take care and don't overwork yourself <3

my requests are always open! i just forget to put it up. also sorry for the little wait. I was trying to wait until school was over. I wrote this imagining a teen mc but it can be interpreted as a regular mc. enjoy <3

✰Mammon

Laughed the first time he seen you fall

“Haha dumb human! Can’t even walk properly.”

Didn’t even offer to help you up

*cue you kicking him in the shins*

As time went on though he started laughing less and less

Why were you always tripping?

Not even just that

You would often drop things or accidentally end up running into something

He had enough when you ran into a pole on the streets of Devildom

(This has happened to me💀)

Long story short you were stressing him out

Lucky for you he has stupidly fast reflexes so whenever he notices you losing your balance or something he’s there to prevent that

Now back to the present

You were supposed to meet him in his room after you were done baking with Luke and Barbatos

As time went on though he started to grow worried

It was getting later and later yet you weren’t back yet

Getting fed up he was about to go look for you himself

“IM BACK”

You walked in with a box full of treats..that was bent in some places

Mammon couldn’t get words out because of him being too focused on the blood that stained your torn sleeve

His stomach dropped thinking the worse

“Oh, that? I tripped on the way here.”

You let him look over your arm anyway just to put him at ease

He kept mumbling “stupid human and you’re fragile body” while doing so

It’s not your fault that demons have bones of fucking steel

But you kept that thought to yourself

✰Lucifer

You already give him gray hairs

It was as if you were always involved in something

He really wished you would just sit down and not move

So when he discovered you were clumsy??

Just kill him now.

To be honest he really underestimated how bad it actually was

Everyone (except him cause he’s “perfect” and “has a reputation to uphold” 🙄) trips from time to time so it’s fine

That was until he witnessed you fall down a flight of stairs

“Hey, Lucifer, I have a quest-”

The carpet got caught under your shoe and you went TUMBLING

When I tell you he was horrified

And you just laughed it off?? Like it was nothing????

Of course, he checked on you and made sure you were alright (followed by a lecture about being more careful)

The HoL was already human-proofed but now that he knew that you were a danger to your own self

He now has to bubble wrap every sharp corner and secure the rugs to the floor

It was quite a funny sight tbh

Much to his dismay, he can not be with you at every waking moment

He was a very busy demon after all and you two had separate lives

So when he got a call from you asking if he could come get you he grew slightly worried

Once getting to you he realized he had every right to be

There you were

Sitting on the sidewalk

WITH A FUCKING GASH ON THE SIDE OF YOUR HEAD

And you were just..sitting there.

Safe to say his soul left his body

Good job MC.

You killed the demon.

You explained that you were skipping back to HoL when you step wrong and your ankle pretty much gave out causing you to fall on the sidewalk

He physically couldn’t comprehend how you were sitting here this calm

“Don’t worry grandpa. Tis only a scratch.”

…

A scratch?!

*mother hen noises*

You did feel a bit bad about how worried he was getting so you let him pamper you the rest of the night

✰Barbatos

This man is literally your lifesaver

He knows you’re about to trip before you can even process that your clumsiness is in effect

Do you know the olive theory? Y’all are like that but with your clumsiness.

He now carries bandages with him wherever he goes

A small curing spell is always in the back of my mind

He’s prepared for everything ranging from papercuts to life-or-death situations

Barbatos is a very feared demon

He has no reason to be afraid or worried about things

That was until you almost dropped a tea set that was over 5 millennia old

Mind you it was also his favorite

Why you had it in the first place? He doesn’t know

What he does know is that it was about to hit the floor

He didn’t know which one to save: the tea set or you

No one had ever seen Barbatos’s life flash before his eyes until then

So congrats on being the first

(Diavolo also thought seeing Barbatos like that was hilarious)

You are no longer allowed to carry fragile things anymore

Whenever you’re carrying anything in general with Barbatos around he gets an underlying feeling of anxiety

Which is why we were here now

Barbatos was preparing some tea for Diavolo when he heard a loud crash

He paused for a moment before calmly setting down the tea mix

He already knew who it was

Swiftly walking to the source of the noise he found you and a Little D...with one of the curtains on the ground

“It seems you’ve been busy.”

“I swear I didn’t mean to.”

With a simple scan of you, he could tell you were fine

Quickly he ushered you away and instructed the Littlw D to clean up the mess

Though he had to admit

Part of him was relieved it wasn’t the China case next to the curtain

His favorite set was in there

✰Satan

Another one who laughed at you when he saw you fall

Though it was more of a chuckle

Before you got close he would go out of his way to step aside if you were falling in his direction

Ngl you and him had an unspoken beef going on in your early Devildom days

Obviously your friendship ended up flourishing but so did his concern for you

He just casually holds an arm out if he notices you tipping a little too much

Moves you out of the way if something you dropped might hurt you

He also keeps an eye out for anything that could cause you to stumble

He doesn’t hover over you but you know that he’s got you

Tbh 10/10 bodyguard

The same can not be said about his room

Walking in there is a death trap

The first few times you entered his room you fell over a stack of books successfully spilling tea on the table

After that Satan really tries his best to clean his room or at the very least have a clear path for you

The key word here is tries

Very recently Satan had gotten into a new mystery book series

It was as if the author was pulling plot twist after plot twist

To say Satan was hooked was an understatement

More and more books by this author started popping up around his room

*cue you slamming his door*

“Satan! Guess what grandpa- ACK!”

He hadn’t even processed that you had entered his room yet

Looking up there you were

Under a pile of books that fell off the shelf

He got up to help you (after putting his bookmark in the book he was reading)

(What? He wasn’t about to lose his place and risk being spoiled trying to find it again)

You just stared up at him wondering if this was your end

Luckily you were fine!

Tbh you thought it was hilarious that his books could have been the reason you died

His brothers on the other hand did not

#✰—writes!!!#mammon x reader #lucifer x reader #barbatos x reader #satan x reader #mammon fluff #lucifer fluff #barbatos fluff #satan fluff

46 notes · View notes

kanerallels · 10 months

Text

Day four of @kaneraweek is here, and with it, my fourth fic! It's absolutely insane to think that we're already this far into the week, but it's been awesome so far! This one is a follow up of sorts to day two

Read on AO3!

Taglist: @laughingphoenixleader @accidental-spice @day-to-day-thots @heckin-music-dork @firefoxtessa @auroramagpie @cassie-fanfics @opalknight (DM me if you want to be added or removed from the tag list!)

The plan had been for them to pick up supplies— that was all. Just land, grab the supplies, and get going. But Hera was starting to learn that almost nothing went to plan where the Empire, to say nothing of her crew, was concerned.

So she was almost unsurprised when a group of raiders showed up and told them to relinquish their supplies, or they wouldn’t be leaving this planet alive.

And now, here she was. Crouched behind a crate next to Kanan and a few yards away from Zeb, wielding her blaster and ducking red bolts as they zipped past her.

Fairly typical for her life, if she was being honest.

Glancing up, she met Kanan’s gaze. Lifting an eyebrow, he said, “You never take me anywhere nice.”

“As I recall, this was your plan, dear,” Hera shot back.

“Knew there had to be some way this was my fault,” Kanan said, darting up to take a shot at one of their opponents. Ducking back down, he said, “It made sense at the time.”

“Well, figure out one that makes sense now,” Hera told him, peering over the rim of the crate. “Because there’s no way we’re going to make it back to the Ghost in one piece without one.”

He still hadn’t made it back to the Ghost.

Hera pushed aside her concern mingled with irritation for what felt like the hundredth time that evening, and focused on rewiring the console in front of her instead.

But it wouldn’t completely go away. When Kanan had asked for a little time off that night, she had assumed it meant… well, she wasn’t quite sure. But he’d left that afternoon, and there was no sign of him. And when Hera remembered what day it was…

She’d seen him handle Empire Day poorly before. Namely, last year, when he’d gotten drunk and blown the op they were planning to pieces, endangering both of their lives. Hera had been furious— more than that, she’d been frightened. She’d seen Kanan drink before, but not like that day.

Luckily, her reaction had hit Kanan hard. Hard enough that he hadn’t drunk since then. There had been some rough days between then and now, but she was proud of him. Proud of him for fighting the addiction he’d let control him for so long.

But now… he was gone. Hera hadn’t planned an op for today specifically in case of something like this, but she hadn’t really expected it. Kanan had promised her it was over, and she’d wanted— needed to believe him.

But what if that need had blinded her?

A clatter down in the entry bay caught Hera’s attention, and she rose to her feet, heading down the hall with her heart pounding. If it was him, then things could be about to get ugly.

Force, she didn’t want that.

Reaching the balcony above the cargo bay, she looked down and saw Kanan facing the wall, hand pressed against it as if to hold him steady. Oh, no.

“Where have you been?” Hera knew her voice was harsh, but she couldn’t quite prevent herself from snapping. Because she’d been scared, and she still was. She was terrified that she was right.

“Out. Sorry, I didn’t mean for you to worry.” Kanan’s voice was… not quite slurred. But still off enough that Hera’s heart plunged. “I, uh, I’ll be in my room.”

He took a step towards the ladder, then stumbled just enough that the light caught his face. Hera’s eyes went wide. “Kanan!”

“Hey, Kanan!”

Hera followed the sound of Zeb’s shout to where the Lasat was waving to them. He had his bo-rifle at the ready, and nodded at where their attackers were firing on them. “Got any ideas?”

“None that are any good,” Kanan called back. He paused, his eyes narrowing, and Hera knew his mind was racing. Finally, he nodded at Zeb. “On three, throw one of the crates at them. I’ll give it a boost. Hera, you cover us.”

Gripping her blaster firmly, Hera said, “This is crazy.”

“All our best plans are,” Kanan quipped as Zeb grabbed a crate, crouching in wait for Kanan’s signal.

Despite how serious she knew the situation was, Hera couldn’t help but feel a flash of determined readiness. There was something satisfying about being side by side with Kanan in a fight.

To say Kanan had been in a fight was a wild understatement. One of his eyes was swollen shut, dark bruising discoloring the entire left side of his face. Blood oozed from a split lip, a long slash in his forehead, and his nose— which had already been slightly crooked— was definitely broken now. As Hera stared at him, she saw he had one arm wrapped around his torso, his stiff posture radiating pain.

She moved forward without stopping to think, slipping down the ladder to catch him by the shoulder as he swayed on his feet. “Force— what happened, Kanan?”

“Slipped,” he mumbled, and Hera could swear she saw a smile cross his face before it twisted in pain and he grabbed for the wall again.

“That is not funny,” Hera snapped, frustration swirling with concern in her chest as she helped Kanan to a crate on the floor nearby. He sank downward with a gasp of relief.

“I don’t know,” Kanan said as Hera moved to get the med kit they stored in the entry bay in case of emergency. “I think it’s a little funny.”

Grabbing the kit, Hera flipped it open. “Now is not the time to joke about this,” she bit out, digging through the contents. “You’re a mess, and I want to know why, and what you did.”

“Who says it’s something I did?”

“Kanan.”

“Fine.” Kanan sighed as Hera brought the med kit over. “I… picked a fight. And I was very outnumbered.”

They were outnumbered, and outgunned. But Hera wasn’t giving up. She never did. So, as Kanan gave Zeb a nod, and the Lasat started to move, she popped up from behind the crate, taking out one of their opponents with a single shot. And she kept firing, not flinching at the incoming blaster bolts.

She heard Zeb let out a snarling roar of effort as he launched the crate at their enemies, and didn’t have to look to know Kanan gave it an extra boost through the Force. It soared through the air and smashed into them, bowling three of them over and sending the others scattering. This was their chance.

Hera didn’t have to look at Kanan— she knew it was time to move. As Zeb vaulted over the crates, Kanan bolted after him. But Hera hesitated, for just a moment. Because their supplies were right there, and she hated to leave them behind—

She heard a blaster fire, and pain burned through her. A gasp was forced out of her body, and she stumbled backwards— just in time to feel the second blaster bolt hit. As her knees gave out, all she could think was, Oh, this was a bad idea.

“It was a bad idea, I know,” Kanan said as Hera set the med kit next to him, flipping open.

Pulling out a stim, Hera jabbed it into his arm, and he let out a yelp. “I know that,” she said. “What I asked was why you started it in the first place.”

“I… because.” Kanan’s gaze dropped, and he was silent long enough that Hera was about to speak when he said, “Because I promised you I would make the same mistake as last year.”

“What?” Hera frowned, confusion spiraling through her. “What does that mean?”

“It means I wasn’t drinking. I haven’t since last Empire Day. But I— I did end up at a bar.”

Hera pulled the antiseptic out, not speaking. Turning his words over in her mind, she coated a piece of gauze in the antiseptic, and paused for a moment before she finally said, “Okay. Explain it to me.”

“You don’t need to—”

“Kanan.”

Sighing, Kanan said, “Listen, I’m sorry, Hera.”

“HERA!”

Vaguely Hera heard her name called as she slammed into the ground, pain searing her back and her arm. Everything hurt, and she let out a slight gasp, unwilling to let out any other sounds of pain. This is not good. Oh, Force, I screwed up now.

Blaster fire and shouts echoed in her ears, and Hera vaguely saw a blue, glowing blur out of the corner of her eye, moving towards her. What? Is that…?

For a brief moment, the vision before her solidified— Kanan, wielding his lightsaber with expert confidence. Zeb, at his side, a snarl marking his face as he took out attacker after attacker.

Kanan was moving towards her, his expression fierce and unflinching. And even as pain sent her world spinning, she couldn’t help but think, This is the first time I’ve seen him use his saber.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve picked a fight with someone, and I didn’t mean to—”

“Kanan.” Hera caught hold of his chin, lifting it so he had to meet her eyes. His eyes widened a little as they locked with hers. “I asked for an explanation, not an excuse.”

He was silent for a heartbeat, gaze holding hers, then said, “I know. I… I went there out of habit, honestly.”

Lifting the gauze, Hera gently dabbed at the cut in his forehead. She felt him flinch, but he kept talking as she cleaned the wound. “But I wasn’t going to buy a drink, and I didn’t. But there was this… group of Imperial pilots there. Drinking and celebrating the glorious Empire.” The bitterness in his voice shifted in something raw as he said, “And I just… all I could think about was my Master.”

Hera stilled, just for a moment. He barely ever talked about his past, let alone the Jedi side of things. So she kept quiet as he continued. “They were celebrating the people that had her slaughtered, gunned down by the men she trusted. And I… it hurt. And the only way I know how to dull that is to drink. So I decided to try something else.”

“And what’s that?” Hera asked, setting aside the gauze. As she reached for the bacta patches in the med kit, she could feel his heart beating against her fingertips.

Her heart was pounding as Kanan reached her, the blue light disappearing in an instant. Everything was blurry with pain, but she knew it was his arms that she was swept into. “I got you,” he said, cradling her against his chest. “Don’t move, Hera. We’re gonna get you out of here. Hera?”

She could hear him saying her name, but his voice was fading, along with everything else. All she could really be aware of was the pain, searing its way through her body as the sounds of Zeb and Kanan’s voices, blasters firing, and then the Ghost’s engines— a sound that she knew better than herself, that lived inside her— faded away.

And then, the pain was gone, too, and there was nothing.

“Nothing smart,” Kanan said. “I just figured… when one thing hurts more than the other, you tend to focus on the worst pain.”

Hera’s eyebrows shot up as she gently smoothed the bacta patch over the cut on his forehead, fingertips lingering briefly. “So you tried to get your face smashed in so that things would hurt less?”

“I know,” Kanan said with a sigh. “It’s stupid.”

“No— well, yes,” Hera amended herself. “But I know what it’s like to want something that hurts so much to go away. To think that you would do anything to stop it.”

She saw the curiosity in his eyes, and knew he would ask. But he didn’t. Instead, he quietly asked, “Does it stop hurting?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’m not exactly the authority in either of our cases. But… I hope so. Maybe someday we’ll be able to focus on the joy, not the pain.”

“Sounds like a nice thought,” Kanan said quietly.

“Maybe,” Hera said with a sigh. Turning her attention back to him, she said, “You’re going to need something for that eye— and your nose, too.”

Grimacing, Kanan said, “Right. I can take care of the nose if you’ll find me some frozen peas or something.”

Hera nodded, turning towards the ladder. As she made her way up to the kitchen and dug out a bag of frozen mixed vegetables they’d picked up in their last supply run, she heard a strangled yelp of pain from down in the entry bay. When she returned, Kanan was blinking back involuntary tears of pain, but his nose was closer to its former, less crooked placement. He had a handful of gauze, which he was using to wipe away the residual blood on his face.

As she entered, he glanced up, and she held up the frozen veggies. “Perfect,” he said, accepting them and pressing the bag against his face with a grateful sigh. “Thanks, Hera. For everything.”

“Of course.” Hera was silent for a moment, watching Kanan as he cleaned himself of the last of the blood, setting aside the crumpled handful of gauze. “You’re a mess,” she said softly.

“I know.” Kanan gave her a wry half-smile.

Hera weighed her next words briefly before saying, “You don’t have to go through this alone, you know.”

His eyebrows hiked up, surprise crossing his face. Somehow, that encouraged Hera. Holding his gaze, she said, “When next year comes around… can we talk about this? Instead of you throwing yourself into a fight just to make it stop hurting? I know it feels like it’ll help, but there has to be something else we can do that doesn’t involve hurting you more.”

She saw him hesitate, and said softly, “Please.”

“I… yeah, okay.” Kanan let out a sigh of defeat. “I’ll try.”

“Good.” On an impulse, Hera took his hand, giving it a quick squeeze. “I need my best crew member in one piece, you know.”

That crooked smile of his turned up the corner of his mouth. “Pretty sure I’m your only crew member, Captain Hera. And that Chopper would be very offended to hear that.”

“You want me to take it back?”

“Not at all,” Kanan said, leaning towards her a little. “Thank you, Hera. And I’m sorry, I really am.”

Nodding, Hera said, “Apology accepted— and you’re welcome, Kanan. We take care of each other, okay? That’s what we do.”

“Understood.”

Hera held his gaze for another moment longer, then turned to the med kit, starting to put it away. “We should probably take a look at your ribs.”

“What, trying to get my shirt off, Hera?” Kanan said, his tone teasing. “I thought I was more to you than that.” His voice turning a little more serious, he said, “But I got it. You should go get some rest. I kept you up late, and you must be tired.”

She was tired, so tired. Her limbs refused to move, to cooperate. She knew, vaguely, that she should be getting up, that there was something urgent she was forgetting. But sleep threatened to pull her back under.

And then she heard a familiar voice. Kanan’s voice.

“She’ll be okay?”

Another voice— automated and impersonal— assured him that she would make a full recovery, and that it was only a matter of time before she woke. “The time in the bacta tank helped considerably. Now, all you can do is wait.”

“I see. Thank you.”

There was a brief silence, then she heard footsteps, moving towards her bedside. Chair legs screeched across the floor, and Kanan sighed. “You’re gonna be okay,” he said.

Fingers laced through hers, and she felt Kanan lean his forehead against their clasped hands. “Force, Hera. You can’t scare me like that.”

His voice shook a little, then he cleared his throat. “Just… I’m glad you’re okay. If a stupid supply run had taken you away from— from us… I don’t know what I would have done.”

The supplies! That’s what Hera had been forgetting. Straining, she finally managed to force her eyes open. Blearily, she took in the hospital room around her. They’d made it out, although she wasn’t sure where to.

Her voice was a croak when she said, “Kanan.”

“Hera!” There was a rush of movement, and she was staring into Kanan’s blue-green eyes. “Wow. When the med droid said you’d wake up soon, I didn’t think he meant that soon.”

“You and Zeb?” Hera managed. Her mouth was dry, her throat a desert.

“We’re fine,” Kanan assured her, reaching for something out of her sightline. “Here— drink this.”

Water. Hera let out a sigh of relief as she drank from the cup Kanan held to her lips. When she had quenched her thirst, she cleared her throat, her voice coming a little easier as she said, “And the supplies?”

Kanan shook his head. “There were too many of them. Zeb and I barely made it out of there intact, and you—” his voice hitched, and he stopped, his gaze dropping.

Hera winced as the vague memories came back to her. The pain, the ground rushing up to meet her. Kanan and Zeb fighting like mad to get to her.

One memory in particular solidified— Kanan, wielding a blue lightsaber. Confident and unhesitating as he batted away blaster fire.

He’d never used his saber before. Hera had known he had one, but this was the first time he’d actually used it. And he’d done it to save her. He’d endangered himself to save her.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

Kanan glanced up. “What?”

“For saving me. For— putting yourself in danger.” She held his gaze meaningfully, hoping he’d understand what she wasn’t saying.

He nodded, expression serious. He understood. “Always, Captain Hera. We take care of each other, right? That’s what we do.”

“Right,” Hera said, feeling that spark of warmth blooming in her chest that she felt so often around Kanan. It was a spark that she usually squashed, pushed aside. A spark that she knew she couldn’t feel. But right now, she let it stay, let it warm her.

“I remember the first time you told me that.”

Kanan’s voice was soft and contemplative as he spoke. “I was… such a mess. And you helped me back to my feet. Showed me that I could handle these things in a different way. Showed me that I wasn’t alone.” Shaking his head, he said, “You changed my life.”

“I think you’re exaggerating, dear,” Hera said, trying to keep her voice casual. But her heart was pounding, because she knew what Kanan was about to say. She’d known this conversation would happen someday, and she’d selfishly hoped to avoid it for as long as possible.

“You know I’m not,” Kanan said. He was still holding her hand, and Hera knew she should let go but she couldn’t quite bring herself to.

Following her gaze to their clasped hands, Kanan was quiet for a long moment. “Why don’t we ever talk about what happened?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” Hera knew she was playing for time, she knew she had to face this. But Force, she didn’t want to, and she knew it wasn’t just because she didn’t want to hurt him.

“You know what I mean,” Kanan said, his voice even. “I mean the fact that you kissed me a couple months ago, and I know we said we weren’t going to talk about it—”

“Then you know why we haven’t talked about it,” Hera snapped. “Because I said we weren’t going to talk about it—”

“Hera, you kissed me,” Kanan said. “And I kissed you back, because— because this isn’t just a friendship, and you know it. I care about you, and—”

“You’re just saying this because of what happened,” Hera told him.

“Because you nearly died? Yes, that is part of why I’m saying it. Because your heart nearly stopped, and I almost lost you before I could tell you how I felt about you. Before we could even consider giving this a chance—”

“Stop.”

Hera could hear the harshness, the anger in her voice, and it hurt her. Because she knew it would hurt Kanan, and she didn’t want that. But she didn’t think there was anything they could do to avoid it now.

He didn’t speak for a long moment, and Hera closed her eyes. She knew what would happen if they kept talking. She’d tell him what she didn’t want to say, that nothing could ever happen, that they could never be anything more. And he would leave.

Hera had always hated crying. And feeling the prickle against her eyelids, she knew this was no exception.

“Explain it to me.”

He spoke quietly, sounding calm. It surprised Hera enough that she managed to banish the tears for the time being. “What?”

“You’ve always listened to me, when I’ve made messes that are way bigger than this one,” Kanan told her. “So explain it to me. Please?”

The pleading in his eyes tugged at Hera’s heart, more than it should have. She squeezed her eyes shut, taking a deep breath. “Okay.”

She felt Kanan watching her, silent and patient, as she opened her eyes. “I… you know what my goals are. And you know how much they matter.”

“I do,”

“Then you know I have to prioritize them above anything else.” Forcing herself to meet Kanan’s eyes, Hera told him, “This is only going to get bigger. And that means everything I have has to go towards this fight. It means I’d be keeping secrets from you, and— I can’t possibly manage a real relationship at the same time. One of them would be neglected and—”

“And you think it would be me,” Kanan finished, and Hera nodded, frustration burning in her throat. This is the part where he leaves.

“I think you’re underestimating my tenacity, Hera.”

Hera’s gaze flew back up to Kanan’s. He didn’t look nearly as hurt as she expected. If anything, he looked amused. “Hera, I’ve spent the past year and a half knowing how I feel about you and never really expecting anything in return. Do you really think that, if I know this could be real, I’m going to let anything get in our way?”

“You’re being unrealistic,” Hera argued, trying to shove aside the hope rising in her heart. “I would ignore our relationship in favor of—”

“Fighting for what’s right, which is what I love about you,” Kanan said. “And I’d be fighting right alongside you. We’ve been doing just fine so far.”

“It’s different, and you know it.”

Sighing, Kanan said, “I forget how stubborn you are sometimes.” Leaning forward, he locked eyes with her. “If you’re not ready, I can wait. But I also have no intention of giving up on this. If I have to wait until the end of this war, I will. Because Force knows being around you is worth it, Hera. Every single minute of it, whether we’re just friends or not.”

With Kanan’s face only a few inches away from her own, Hera found herself… speechless. Words fail me, I suppose, she thought with a flash of humor. Clearing her throat, she managed, “Now who’s being stubborn?”

“What can I say? We make a good team,” Kanan said, a smile crossing his face. Leaning back, he said, “Just think about it. And get some more rest. We’ll check out of here tomorrow, okay?”

“Hmm,” Hera said, dropping back into her pillows. As a wave of fatigue swept over her, she mumbled, “I thought I was supposed to be the captain.”

“You are,” Kanan said, his voice gentle. “But listen to me about this, okay?”

“Whatever you say, love,” were Hera’s last words as she dropped off to sleep.

Before she dropped off to sleep that night, Hera’s last thoughts were about Kanan. She knew he was a mess, that he’d been through a lot— but that he was working through it, and figuring out how to live with it in a healthy way.

And she knew one other thing for certain— she was glad she had him in her life.

#kanera week #kanera week 2023 #star wars rebels #swr #kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #garazeb orrelios #zeb orrelios #kanera #tw injury #writing stories is a kind of magic too

18 notes · View notes

mishwanders · 2 years

Text

Chapter Four {Heisenberg}: Act of Approach

Pairing: Karl Heisenberg x GN!Disabled Reader

Summary: Heisenberg hears the buzzer going off and is surprised to find you at his gates.

Warnings: dead body that has been carved into (unfinished soldat), guts, and intestines.

Read on AO3 { X }

Heisenberg was hard at work in his factory, gloved hands deep within the maze of intestines of a new test subject when he heard the loud buzz come over the speaker above his head. He let out a disgruntled sigh and pulled out the ropes of organs, dropping them into a bucket that was filled with fluids. He removed his gloves and apron and left the room, making his way upstairs to the ground floor. The closer he got, the more his power reached outside the factory, moving through the magnetic field, extending all the way out to the gate. He couldn’t sense any metal on the person, save for a chain necklace.

He immediately knew who it was. He connected through the speaker outside and spoke.

“What do you want, Saint?” He asked, the last word coming out like an insult rather than the title he knew you were bearing proudly.

“I’m here at the request of Mother Miranda.” You replied

“What - Why?”

“I’m compiling all of the information I can about the Cadou to go along with what I have in its connection to the black god. She wanted me to come see everyone’s work in person.”

He left you in a moment of silence, debating whether he should let you in or just leave you out in the cold and wait until you finally left.

“Lord Heisenberg, you’re going to have to let me in. It’s either going to have to be at your own discretion or when I tell -”

God damn it.

Heisenberg let out a sigh and opened up the gate for you from inside. He continued to make his way through the factory until he finally made it to the large garage doors. He slid them open and leaned against one, arms crossed and staring down at you through his mossy glasses. He watched you trudge your way up the hill with that flimsy cane of yours, trying to keep stable.

He knew you needed a new one, the one you had was fairly old and looked like it was made out of a broken branch. But he also knew you couldn’t afford one that was sturdier, one that didn’t look like it was about to break from underneath you at any moment. It was then that an idea sparked in his mind - he had enough shit around here, he’d easily be able to make you a new one. He would just have to find a way to give it to you without realizing it was from him.

When you finally reached the doors he could see you were out of breath, leaning over your cane for support. But he could see a slight smile on your face, he knew you were happy to have just made it this far. You gingerly stood up again and attempted to move closer to the doorway, but he threw his arm up preventing you from going any further.

“Let’s get something clear here. You’re allowed in only on a few conditions. 1. You are only allowed to go where I say, nothing more nothing less. 2. You will do what I say, and 3. You’re not allowed to touch anything without my permission. Got it?”

You nodded in response.

“Yeah, got it.”

Heisenberg finally moved his arm out of the way, allowing you into the safety and warmth of his factory before closing the metal doors shut behind you. He led you down the stairs and through the halls into a larger dimly lit room with a desk, tables, red ceramic floors, and a large gray curtain hanging over one wall. He pulled out the metal chair for you and motioned towards it.

“Take a seat. You look worn out.”

You looked at him, shocked at his offer that came unexpectedly. You sat down in the chair, leaning your cane against the desk, and pulled out your notebook from your bag, to which he grimaced at. Of course you were going to be taking notes the entire time.

“Thank you. Long walks like that can be rather painful.” You replied

“Then why come?” He asked, crossing his arms.

“Because Mother Miranda asked me to.” You explained, “But to be honest, I wanted to. I wanted to see what you had been doing with the Cadou, because I’m genuinely interested.”

Now he was looking at you surprised. You had to be pulling something - this had to be Mother Miranda’s way of getting intel on his army that he was building. Somehow that bitch must have known, must have found out -

No, that couldn’t have been it. Maybe you were just telling the truth, maybe you were just genuinely interested.

“Would you mind telling me what you’ve been doing with them? I’ve looked over some of Miranda’s notes from previous meetings and she wrote that you’ve been putting them inside dead bodies, is that correct?”

Heisenberg slowly nodded in response.

“That’s correct.”

“Why? Are you trying to raise the dead? What’s the purpose of it?” you asked

Heisenberg hesitated to answer your question - trying to figure out just how much he should tell you. Should he tell you that he’s been doing it to create an army to destroy Miranda - to end her, to get back at her for everything she’d done to him? No, he knew you wouldn’t agree with his reasoning, even if it were the truth. You’d go back and tell that bitch of a mother and then she’d do god knows what to him. No, it was best to keep his answers plain and simple.

“I'm just trying to understand it - your motives, that’s all.” You replied, gaining his attention back on you. “I would like to be able to include the hard work you’ve done in this manuscript, along with the others of course.”

He looked at you contemplatively for a moment. As much as he preferred to keep his work and everything out of the villagers' hungry eyes, maybe giving them a taste of his power would keep them off of his back, just as much as it would Miranda.

Fuck it.

“It might be better if I just showed. Stay right here.” He said, turning towards the doors, “And don’t leave this room, got it?”

You nodded

“Yes, sir.”

Heisenberg made his way into the factory, finding one of the lines that had unfinished soldats on it. He chose one that had no weapons attached, only the cybernetic headgear with the metal plate covering its eyes and the attachment on its chest with all of the wires connecting inside. He called it forward off of the line, forcing it to float towards him. It followed behind until he opened the double doors again. He stopped at the entrance, seeing you now standing with your flimsy cane, a hand reaching out towards the curtain covering the wall. He narrowed his eyes at you, irritated and disappointed.

“What did I say about not touching things without my permission?”

He watched you jump at the sound of doors and his booming voice. You gave him a shy smile, knowing that you’d been caught. But he watched as your eyes widened in surprise when you caught sight of the monstrous creation behind him. He moved it in between you two, allowing you to have a better look. You moved closer to it, inspecting it all, asking a wide array of questions about it, jotting down notes the entire time. You seemed genuinely interested in the mechanics of it all - how he was able to get the Cadou working with the complexity of the human body along with the wires and metal that was attached. He found himself growing proud, which was something he wasn’t expecting. Hell he even found himself enjoying the conversation at hand, even if he had to bite his tongue on certain things related to the topic. It was just nice to have someone to talk to about it - someone that had a similar fascination to it all.

“The work you’ve put into it is amazing!” You said, writing more in your notes. “But this still leaves me with the question - why use the gift on the dead?”

“Because everyone else uses it on the living.” He said simply, “Besides, I run a dangerous factory, it’s easier to just sew on another arm if they lose one versus a living person.”

He could see your eyes moving from the soldat over to his shoulder. You looked as if you were staring at something that wasn’t there. Were you lost in thought? He couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in your head. But before he was able to ask, you looked back up at him and nodded.

“I guess that makes sense.” You replied, “It’s interesting how you’ve created this. Its shape reminds me of the black god itself on a smaller scale.”

He grimaced at the mention of the megamycete, forgetting that you still sew it like the rest of the sheep in the village - like a god that deserves to be revered.

“Why do you say that?” He asked

“The light reminds me of it, with all of the wires and tubes running into the body like the roots and how they run along the cave and away into the soil. Roots are the ways plants communicate to each other, and you’ve found a way to make all of this work and communicate to each part of the body.”

“You’re really sold into all of this stuff, aren’t you?” He asked

You looked at him in surprise, he knew you weren’t expecting that type of question.

“I’m not sure I understand.” You said, “I just see the similarity, that’s all.”

“I mean you really believe in this religion. Does it mean that much to you?” He asked

“Well of course. Why wouldn’t I? It’s a big part of the village community, it’s a big part of my life - I’ve given my life to serve it and now I finally get a chance to help others with my words - so of course it means a lot.” You said, “I can actually do something good for others.”

He stared you down for a moment, hearing the honesty in your voice as you spoke, the sincerity on your face. If only you truly knew what this damn thing was all about, what it could truly do…

Maybe it was better to allow you to live in blissful ignorance.

Heisenberg moved the soldat away from you, opening up the metal grate towards the side of the room, dropping the soldat below it. He turned his attention back to you.

“Alright, well you got everything you needed. You know the way in - you know the way out, so you see yourself out.”

He turned around to head back into the factory, but he noticed that you didn’t move from your spot. He stopped at the double doors and looked back over his shoulder at you.

“What is it?” He asked

“I wanted to ask you if you’d be willing to accompany me to see the others, Donna and Moreau? I’m unsure if I can make the trek alone.” You explained

“And that’s my problem, how?” He asked in an irritated tone.

“I just thought I’d ask you first because Mother Miranda was going to force you to do so at my request.” You replied, “But seeing how you’re still just going to be an ass about it - forget it.”

You packed your journal back in your bag, throwing the strap over your shoulder and began to head for the door to leave. He knew he’d hurt your feelings. Heisenberg let out a loud sigh, which forced you to stop in your tracks.

“What time are you heading that way?” He asked

“Tomorrow morning at dawn.” You replied

“I’ll meet you at the chapel. Don’t be late.”

You smiled at him, nodding.

“Okay!” You said

“See you then.”

Chapter Three: Daffodil

Chapter Five: In Hell I’ll Be in Good Company

44 notes · View notes

geckosquid · 11 months

Text

Finished Ghost Trick! Man, the end was really plot twist after plot twist, huh.

Here are my notes for chapters 15-18

Strap in, this is going to be a long one and I don’t know how to add a read more on mobile.

I was correct. The body is just a puppet for the manipulator’s soul.

It is the body of the main character from the beginning of the game, there aren’t two of them. So why are there two souls?

Damn these puzzles are getting hard. I really don’t like to do things in the last second.

Missile was the real MVP of these last two levels. Best doggo.

The manipulator had the powers of manipulation before he died?

Cabenera climbed the organizational ladder to make sure he could funnel all their reseach into the case of the manipulator? So he did care, this whole time…

The bird man used to be a medical examiner, that’s how he was able to tell the blue guy was a fraud.

What do you mean you couldn’t perform the autopsy?

What the fuck is Sissel’s body made of?! The assassin was angrily mocking cabenera about being in in pain because the explosion broke his ribs. Sissel mentions that the assassin didn’t feel anything when he slammed his fist on the stove, which should have burned him. Implying that he can’t feel anything because he’s dead.

The fuck did that meteorite do to him?!

Allowed him to control the bodies of living people, apparently.

Joud gets his detective coat back! All detectives need to have a cool coat.

Oh shit it’s almost 5:00am…

Here we go! Time to confront the “Other Sissel”

The bullet the “Other Sissel” was shot with wasn’t to see if he could kill him, it was to put a radio transmitter in the body so they could find where the sub was! So clever! The receiver was in the POCKET WATCH!

I FUCKING TOLD YOU THE POCKET WATCH WAS IMPORTANT!!

The meteorite fragment was still lodged in Sissel’s body? They stole it from him? What’s the blue people want with it?

Oh shit I think the room ejected and exploded. With the detective in it.

LYNNE WHY YOU ALWAYS DYING, WHY YOU ALWAYS DYING? STOP FUCKING DYING!

Oh shit the other sissel is controlling Kamilla!

Of course your revenge plan has failed! Sissel has been working hard all night to un-kill all the people you have killed!

I don’t understand revenge either, Sissel. I’m still confused. It looks like the Sissel who’s the main character and the Sissel who’s the antagonist came from the same person, but are different souls. How did that happen?

You’re right Lynne, stealing the meteorite is cheating.

Stupid rat, get out of the way!

You guys can’t swim! At a time like this?!

Who is this? What was that mechanical arm?

is it other Sissel?

He knows about protaganist Sissel?

He turned back into a wisp… but now we finally get the answers to everything.

The meteorite gives people power and time, huh. That’s why he didn’t disappear after it killed him. And why Sissel can rewind time.

So the meteorite killed him, but due to its power, stuck his body in limbo between life and death. It’s physically dead, that’s why he can’t feel anything, like the hot stovetop or the explosion. There’s no nerve endings anymore for him to feel pain.

The meteorite gives the ghost powers, huh. Neat.

That’s not the whole story though. If both of you aren’t called “Sissel” what’s your name?

Yeah, where is Joud?

The end of this game is gonna make me cry, isn’t it. Because the characters who are dead will have to disappear and leave the others behind.

The person we thought was Sissel the whole game…his name is Yominel. Yominel was a computer engineer. And that’s how he got caught up in this mess.

That blue hunk is a robot?!

So now that the meteor fragment was removed, we can go back in time and prevent Yominel’s death from happening and setting off this whole chain of events in the first place.

But that doesn’t change the fact that we don’t know who Sissel is or where he came from. Or who the lamp and the cat from the first chapter are.

Wait, there’s the cat again. IS SISSEL’S TRUE IDENTITY THAT BLACK CAT?!

We stopped the meteorite, the bullet, but in the end Yominel was still impaled in the back.

HE’S STILL ALIVE?!

So he posesses his own body, in the past, to save Lynne. He’s still alive after being crushed by the statue!?

Aw, Joud gives her a little detective badge. So she becomes a detective in the future anyway.

Oh Sissel was the cat! This whole time!

And by saving yominel, we have prevented the deaths of everyone in the future, including his fiancé, who Sissel was named after, and fixed the timeline!

But yominel and sissel won’t know each other anymore. I don’t like when characters who are interconnected have fate overwritten so it never happens.

THE LAMP?! Do we get to find out who the lamp was?! Was it one of the main characters from a bad end timeline?

Yep. It is. The timeline where everyone dies because Sissel was not there to save them.

The lamp is Missile from the bad timeline? Aw, Missile from that timeline looks scruffy and old. And in the bad timeline, Sissel was the desk lamp.

BAD TIMELINE MISSILE, YOU SNEAKY DOG! We had thought the whole time that Sissel would disappear when dawn came and you’re telling us now YOU MADE IT UP?! And you kept up with Sissel’s assumption he was human because it was the only way to change the timeline for the better.

In the new present we get the birthday scene again, but it works right this time, and Lynne is there! Sissel is ten years old but still a kitten, huh. So the meteor still got lodged in his body somehow. They even kept the same name!

Yominel was the painter in jail this time, and he got out after 10 years and is wife was waiting for him!

I must say, this game ended way better than I was expecting I thought we would have to say goodbye to Sissel at the end when his time was up. But damn he really saved everyone.

#geckosquid plays ghost trick #ghost trick #damn this was an incredible game I know why you all were banging pots and pans for everyone to go play it #I will admit I had to use a guide for most of the puzzles because I don’t have a puzzle brain #geckosquid posts #ghost trick spoilers #long post

17 notes · View notes

ukrfeminism · 1 year

Text

5 minute read

From the kitchen table of the house she shares with her partner and (at times) their eight children, Lauren, 38, has been working with Claire to put pressure on the government to prevent sex offenders from changing their names after release. They have also had to fight to have their sister’s murderer placed on the sex offender register.

In April, they travelled to London to meet Damian Hinds, minister for prisons, parole and probation, to explain their concerns that weaknesses in the law make women and children more vulnerable when sex offenders are released from prison.

Lauren Holmes was 11 when she discovered how her sister, Collette, had died. There were woods near the family home in Corby in Northamptonshire, and Lauren had ignored her mother’s warning that they were unsafe.

“We knew we weren’t allowed to go there,” Lauren remembers, “but we did, and we got chased by a local lad. Two of my friends ended up in hospital getting thorns removed because they’d tried to escape through the brambles. That evening, everyone’s parents gave us a real rollicking, but my mum was just silent. I couldn’t understand why she wasn’t shouting. I was sent to my room and she came in and threw a load of newspapers on my bed, and she said: ‘This is why you’re not allowed to go into the woods!’ I felt shocked and guilty. It was a hard way to find out.”

The newspapers explained that a local man named Adam Stein had abducted six-year-old Collette Gallacher in February 1986 as she waited for a bus to take her to school, the same school where her mother worked as a playground assistant and dinner lady. Corby in the 1980s was a much smaller place than it is today. Struggling with the fallout of the closure of the British Steel plant, which had been Europe’s largest steelworks, there was high unemployment – but there was also a sense of community in the streets around the Gallachers’ home. “Everyone knew each other,” Lauren says. It was not unusual for a six-year-old to be sent off to school alone.

On the day of the abduction, “someone asked my mum where Collette was, and that’s when they realised something wasn’t right,” Lauren says. The search for Collette lasted five days, and Stein was one of the many locals who volunteered to look for her, before her body was found in the attic of the house that he shared with his wife and young son. Stein admitted rape as well as murder, but the sexual assault charge lay on file – a decision sometimes taken if a defendant has also pleaded guilty to more serious charges. Lauren and her younger half-sister Claire believe this was in order to spare the family from sitting through details of the attack in court. Stein was jailed for life and told he would serve a minimum of 20 years. Thirty-seven years later, Collette’s sisters are still fighting to make sure he does not escape justice.

Claire Holmes was not yet born and Lauren was only 15 months old when Collette was killed, but her murder still dominates their lives. Their mother, Karen, did her best to shield them from what had happened but when Claire, now 32, was nine or 10, she stumbled across a box of newspaper cuttings. “I was in my mum’s room having a nosy around, as I shouldn’t have done. We always knew we had a big sister, that a bad man had taken her, but it was a taboo subject. My mum still struggles to say Collette’s name. My grandad had to explain it all.”

Lauren, who works as a carer at a home for adults with a rare genetic condition, feels she has become a part-time detective, working with the local Corby journalist Kate Cronin to investigate why her sister’s murderer was sent back to prison after his release in 2016. It appears this was connected to driving offences, and she discovered he had changed his name and begun a relationship with a vulnerable teenager during the short period he was free. Claire has begun a degree in criminology, spurred on by her concerns about flaws in the justice system.

The sisters want to make it clear that their activism does not stem from vindictiveness. “This is not a witch-hunt. We hoped he would be rehabilitated in prison, but everything we now know suggests that hasn’t happened,” Claire says. “The latest parole statement that we have says that he is still having bad thoughts about children, and not understanding the consequences of his actions. From all the information we have, he does not seem to be a man who has changed.”

They are cautiously optimistic that their campaign may be getting somewhere. In March, the Labour MP for Rotherham, Sarah Champion, organised a debate on sex offenders’ name changes, while Bolsover’s Conservative MP, Mark Fletcher, had a 10-minute-rule bill on the same subject; both argue that it is too easy for sex offenders to conceal their identities.

“A sex offender can change their name and with little difficulty receive a passport or a driving licence with their new name,” Fletcher told MPs. “At no point are you asked if you have a criminal background. In some cases this can lead to a DBS check under their new identity.” A DBS, or Disclosure and Barring Service, check is required for some jobs or voluntary roles, particularly in healthcare or in positions that involve working with children.

Collette’s sisters did not intend to devote so much of their lives to campaigning, but the target of their concern has evolved over the years. Stein was refused parole several times before being released in 2016 and returned to prison in 2017. He was released again in 2021 and sent back in July 2022. After his first release, they were dismayed to discover that he had not been placed automatically on the sex offender register. Their campaigning resulted in his name being added, but they are still uncertain about whether the initial failure was because he did not have a conviction for rape or because the offence predated the launch of the register.

A newspaper article by Cronin prompted a woman to get in touch to say that while he had been out of prison in 2016, Stein, then 58, had changed his name and struck up a relationship with her, when she was 18. He admitted that he had been in prison after killing a child, but told her it had been an accident.

The sisters were concerned that Stein’s ability to change his name made it easier to conceal his past. “You shouldn’t be able to hide when you’ve committed crimes of this nature. That should be something that you carry for the rest of your life,” Claire says.

The Safeguarding Alliance warns that the child sexual offenders’ disclosure scheme (also known as Sarah’s law, named after eight-year-old Sarah Payne, who was murdered by a paedophile in 2000), which allows parents to check if a person has a record for child sexual offences, becomes useless if the offender has changed their name.

Asked why this weakness has not already been fixed, Fletcher said this was “a bit of a head-scratcher”. There is the possibility that post-prison rehabilitation would be undermined for those who have reformed and want a new start, but the government is not making this case, just arguing that sex offenders are already required to notify the authorities if they change their names and face an extra five years’ imprisonment if they fail to do this within three days of the change.

Campaigners point out that many fail to do so. Freedom of information requests from the Safeguarding Alliance show that about 900 sex offenders went missing between 2017 and 2020, while 16,000 had in some way breached their notification requirements in the past five years. As Fletcher told MPs: “It doesn’t take a genius to realise that sex offenders are not the most trustworthy group.”

Champion, meanwhile, has pointed out that some perpetrators change their name before being formally charged with an offence, “meaning their birth name remains unmaligned”.

Collette’s sisters are hopeful that reform may be included in the victims and prisoners bill currently going through parliament. In the meantime, they have been working with Cronin to try to get more information about whether Stein still poses a threat to the public ahead of his next possible release in 2024. Cronin’s attempts to obtain more information about him have been complicated by the name changes. “It’s not about pitchforks. It’s about keeping women and girls safe,” she says.

The family are dismayed that they are still fighting to ensure Stein is properly monitored after his release. “His name is constantly in our mouths,” says Claire. “It would have been lovely to know that he had been released and quietly got on with his life. It does happen. People do change their lives – but that’s not been the case. We feel like we can never have peace.”

10 notes · View notes

doodle-pops · 2 years

Text

All For You

Caranthir x reader

Request: Hi! Congratulations on the milestone 🥰. You deserve them all and so more 💗 Can I request for Caranthir?— both of them arguing because Y/N is always putting themselves in danger and Cara in the end shouts 'because I love you' and after a moment of shock and silence he immediately pulls him into a kiss?— please and thanking you! -@eunoiaastralwings

A/N: I do hope this was written to your liking and that you enjoy it.

Warnings: angry Caranthir, arguing, shouting, kissing, confession

Word Count: 1.5k

Synopsis: After loving you for so long, Caranthir can't bear the thought of losing you after one of your secret expeditions, and so, he confronts you.

“Where were you?”

You hadn’t even removed your saddle from your horse when his voice echoed behind you. Frozen in your spot, your eyes widened as they drifted to the corner of the stable. Still clad in his formal attire from this morning, Caranthir's arms were firmly planted on either side of his body, but as you strained your eyes you saw them twitching – twitching to hold you closely.

“I went out for a ride…to clear my head.” You spoke in a stern tone despite knowing that he was displeased with your actions.

Keeping his expressions at bay, he crossed the room swiftly to stand at your side as you tided your horse. Avoiding his stare, you kept your gaze afront as you busied yourself with removing the bridle. All this time, Caranthir's heated stare never left your figure.

“I thought I told you to never leave the castle grounds without informing me?” He spoke with haste and hurt in his voice, but you failed to realize and only heard anger. After all, he was mainly displeased with your performance.

Pausing to carefully slide the bridle out of your horse’s mouth, you sighed loudly and gave a small chuckle. You really couldn’t believe it when he acted as though he was in charge of you and needed to be informed of your whereabouts. This was not even the first time he behaved like this. Time and time again, whenever you took it upon yourself to trek through the forest and returned past dusk, you’d find yourself in the current situation – interrogation.

“Milord – ”

“Caranthir. I’ve told you time and time again, that you may address me as Caranthir.”

You had taken the chance to look up from your spot and made quick eye contact with him before his gaze was cast elsewhere. Breathing heavily, you nervously picked at the leather straps while thinking of your next words. Everyone for years had spoken about his temper and that he was quick to anger, but during your time knowing him, you understood that it was simply people testing his patience. It still didn’t prevent you from receiving minor outbursts.

It was common knowledge to the workers throughout the palace that you fancied their Lord. Never once did you hesitate to blush at the mention of his name or any sightings of him. Those around you would quietly whisper about your lovestruck appearance whenever he came to visit you in the infirmary. Others would tease you about the efforts that you would put into your appearance to look lovely for him.

What started out as him assisting you when he saw you struggling with boxes of instruments, turned into him making short visits claiming that he only wanted to ensure there was enough medical equipment. You were after all the one responsible for the medical equipment.

“Why is it every time I depart the palace for a breath of fresh air, must you be angry? I don’t recall that being prohibited.” Your voice was above a whisper as the gentle winds carried it across the stables. Once it reached his ears and he heard the pain, his head swivelled around to meet a saddened expression on your face.

Caranthir knew he shouldn’t let his anger get out of control, but the thought of you being hurt by orcs or worst, killed, breaks his heart. He needed you to understand and see how dangerous it was out there and that he couldn’t bear to lose you among the mix. Unfortunately, his temper was still sizzling beneath his skin and his tongue was itching to respond to your comment with the dire urge.

“Because it is dangerous out there! You off all people should understand that!” It came out a lot harsher than he intended and it caused you to flinch.

“...but we are far from the enemy’s forces, so it is safe to walk about.”

“No, it is not! There are always orcs wandering nearby.” His voice had dropped an octave and a mortified expression adorned his face.

“Caranthir, I may be a healer, but I can – ”

“What!? Defend yourself!? Are you forgetting when my men had to save you because you got lost, or when you were attacked twice by rogue orcs? You were severely injured.”

He had taken the opportunity to walk around your horse to stand before you again. With his chest heaving rapidly, he brought his left hand up to rake it through his raven strands before returning his gaze.

“So, what now, I’m supposed to stay indoors? I can’t walk around?”

“No, that’s not what…” stopping his speech, he took a deep breath to change the tone of his words to something softer, “That’s not what I meant. I want for you to inform me so my men can accompany you for safety.”

“Please, I’m not a child Caranthir, I can leave these grounds and go for a walk if it pleases me…without protection.”

“It – It’s not about being treated as a child, it’s about your safety. Why aren’t you seeing that?”

“…you say so and yet you treat me like one.” Turning on your heels, you touched your horse to guide them into its pen. Walking away with your back to Caranthir, he stared at your retreating form mortified that this could be the last time the both of you ever conversed.

Never has he felt the way that you made him feel – warm and loved – and to lose someone who viewed him as he wished to be seen, forever, he couldn’t let that be. He hadn’t even the chance to express his heart to you and here you were accusing his protectiveness of him seeing you as a child. He knew expressing his emotions was trialling, but somewhere along the line, you must have realized he loved you.

How could you not see that he loved you?

“You can’t walk away from this argument, I'm not finished.” He spoke quietly with hurt in his voice as he remained in his spot.

“Or what, you’ll punish me or send me to my room. You know, I thought we were something, but not with the way you treat me…”

Hanging your head after you closed the door to your horse’s pen, you bowed before him and spun on your heels to walk away. The tears were threatening to spill from your eyes as they brimmed your lower lashes. All your hopes of continuing your relationship with Caranthir had just washed away. You would have loved it if you could have poured your heart out to him tonight, but instead, you were met with opposition.

“We’re not something Y/N, we’re more than that, but you make it so difficult for me to express myself when you do things like this.” Skidding to a halt, you turned sideways slowly, listening to his confession. Catching the light on his face, you saw his ruddy cheeks appearing darker than usual and his hands tugging at his robe.

“But there’s no need for the overprotectiveness – ”

“It’s because I love you! I love you and I can’t bear to have anything happen to you because it would kill me inside to lose you! You mean the world to me, and I want to protect and keep you safe!”

His hands shot up into the air to exclaim his point as he kept his gaze locked on your face. His breaths were ragged as he stood awaiting a response.

Silence.

Not a sound was heard save for the whistling and howling of the wind throughout the stables. You stood there mouth agape at the words that came out of his mouth. They were the last things would expect to hear during an argument. On the opposite end, Caranthir watched as tears spilt from your eyes and rolled down your cheeks.

Whatever possessed him to follow through with the following sequence, he quietly thanked for the gain of confidence. Walking briskly over to you, Caranthir towered over your form and raised his hands to cradle your face. Thumbs lifting to tenderly wipe the tears before hooking his fingers underneath your chin and tilting it upwards.

“Please...may I?”

Aware of what he was asking, you softly nodded your head and blinked one last time before his lips came crashing down on yours. Soft lips caressed yours with intermittence of light pecks. You could feel the emotions – despair, love, passion – all being poured into the act. His left arm snaked its way around your waist to pull you closer. It was as though he couldn't get enough of you.

His other hand that held your chin, slid behind to cup your neck and tilt your head upwards to deepen the kiss and for a better angle. Clutching the front of his robes, your grip tightened as you felt his tongue graze your lower lip before pulling away. Pulling away and breathing heavily, you paused to look over his features and gauged his mood before speaking.

“Why...Why didn’t you just say all this from the start, Cara? This could have been avoided.” At the use of his epessё, his eyes smiled.

“I wanted to, but you didn’t give me the chance. I just want you safe Y/N, please understand my protectiveness.”

“If you wanted me safe, all you needed was tag along, I would not have minded…since you love me.”

Brushing his thumbs over your redden cheeks, as if his didn't mirrored yours, he heaved loudly before looking away to gather his thoughts. Pondering the indirect request, Caranthir then returned his focus to you and spoke.

“If it pleases you, then I would accompany you on the next because I want you safe.”

“And because you love me.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @spidergirla5 @lilmelily @eunoiaastralwings

If you would like to be tagged, click the link or request in my asks.

#caranthir x reader #Carnistir #morifinwe #caranthir imagine #silmarillion x reader #Caranthir #house of feanor #reader insert #x reader fluff #fluff #middle earth imagine #middle earth x reader #silmarillion imagine #doodlepops writings ✨

115 notes · View notes