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#<- sound of me ripping apart my enclosure
lesbiten · 2 years
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moved into my dorm👍reality setting in
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farfrompleasant · 1 year
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Happy Freyja Friday!!! 💖🎉😘
It's almost your actual one year anniversary with the freyby! What a beautiful journey and union you two have had 💞💞💞 to many more!!!
TWO sheds in two months?! Miss Thing is back to doing the most I see! How are you two faring these days? How's school treating ya?
Philly actually planted a lot of honey locust for beautification/urban green planning, and I've read/seen that you can take the seed pods and boil the sweet um goo (??? I'm not a scientist lol) out of them to make a natural plant-based sweetener! But, obviously all the seed pods I see have been crushed by cars and feet and rained on and peed on etc etc so that's a no go 😢
One day, my foraging dreams will come true lol have you seen Alexis Nikole Nelson's (aka the Black forager) content on social media? She's super awesome.
A feeble attempt was made to revive the book club but it's still pretty dead lol at least we have this 😘
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I made a dog fort out of our bed when it was really cold last month and Nova was hogging it the other day 😂
Happy Freyja Friday!!!
I’m actually on time chdhhdhdhdjskendbjdjf, absolutely insane!💀 it will be an entire year I’m just two days and I can’t cope! It feels like we’ve been with each other for a much longer time, and I’m just baffled at the fact that she grew to love me in just a year😳 it’s giving fall in love at a certain amount of time trope, if you know what I mean then you know! (I hope you do…) but still, thank you friend… you’re the sweetest evers!🥺❤️ and I want you to know that with every union, you’re also apart of it as you were there during the early days of my journey with this scaly girl c;
I still can’t get over the back to back shedding, and apparently neither can Freyja. Her beard has been dark during the process😅 anywho, I am doing okay. Between school, work, and having minor health issues going on I think I’m tackling things rather well. As for our girl, she’s a lot happier these days; we’re expanding her diet, and gathering accessories for her enclosure in hopes of sprucing it up! And she’s always warm despite the bitter winter biting us all in the rear before it’s officially spring. Seriously, thank goodness for ceramic heating!
Honey locus? I have to look that up, friend! I didn’t know that was a tree 🥺 very mesmerizing tree with a cool base and warm, autumn favored leaves… I want to see more of those! Philly has good taste. Got me romanticizing a type of tree 🤭 wait— so you’re saying that with this sweet goo that is extracted from these pods, you can make an organic sweetener?! That’s amazing 🤩 I hate that there’s no real opportunity to do that given that you’re living in a city where plant life/resources aren’t necessarily considered(?) Like, if it was cleaner and plants weren’t looked at as embellishments, then that it would totally be doable imo 🥺
I can’t wait to witness your foraging, I just know that it would bring me so much joy as a) you are doing your hobby and b) you’re sharing it with me and teaching me a few things along the way c; I can’t say that I heard about Alexis Nikole Nelson or any of her work but I’ll check it out whenever I can find some time ☺️
And 😭 rip to our bookclub! It was initially productive, and I loved being apart of it along with just hearing everyone’s perspectives on the material c: not to mention I totally bragged about it to my therapist at one point 🤭 it’s a flex, okay! I feel that there may be a revival period if someone finds a really good read 😂
That is soooo cute friend! A doggie fort sounds so cozy and I know for a fact that some cuddles took place 🥰 and of course Nova is basking in the comfort of it all, I really love that for her❤️ I hope Abbie and Lizzie are getting their turns whenever they can lolol and that Wallace and Heller are experiencing great comforts as well in their own feline way c: I feel like they probably squeeze their way into certain nooks and crannies that would incite a war if bothered or removed 😂😅
And of course, I hope Philly weather is being kind to you my good friend 🥰 hope you are feeling well and will continue to prosper in any way you see fit!
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This is a day after her second shed, she’s obsessed with resting here again for whatever reason c:
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legion1227 · 7 months
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Doom Eternal: A review.
A challenging shooter, but one that is incredibly technically sound.
Released on March 20th, 2020, Doom Eternal is the sequel to the Doom reboot from 2016. Developed by id Software and published by Bethesda Softworks, this game takes everything that worked for its predecessor great and improves upon it by delivering an adrenaline-fueled, action-packed experience to satisfy newcomers, like myself, and long-time fans of the franchise. As someone who played Doom 2016 a few years ago and enjoyed it immensely, I was looking forward to trying this game for quite some time. It took quite a while for me to come around and try the game finally, but I can finally see firsthand why this was a worthwhile experience.
Doom Eternal picks up where Doom 2016 leaves off. In Doom 2016, you play as Doomguy and are tasked with slaughtering the vast amounts of demons let out of hell and running amok on Mars. The forces of Hell make their way to Earth and bring forth an apocalypse. In Doom Eternal, you're back on Earth to once again rip and tear your way through waves of demonic entities. You're thrown into the thick of the action, and the game rarely leaves you time to breathe. The game's level design is a testament to the developers' commitment to delivering relentless, intense combat. Every level is meticulous, filled with intricate details, secrets to discover, easter eggs from previous games, and hordes of demons waiting to be obliterated. The sense of verticality and movement in these environments allows for more dynamic and acrobatic combat encounters. Traversing around each area while expertly trying to navigate and switch through weapons to carve out these annoying little fuckbags is extravagant.
The combat mechanics in Doom Eternal are overwhelmingly layered. Eternal adds the "Flame Belch" and "Ice Bomb" as secondary abilities to contribute depth to the combat, forcing players to think strategically about which tools to use in different situations alongside weapons galore. Between the wheel of eight rotating weapons, each with two different firing modes and attachments, glory kills, a chainsaw, and a sword, there are tons of ways to dismantle the demons that it feels almost overwhelming. It felt hard to keep track of it all, but I appreciate the numerous options for how I can slaughter enemies. It's incredibly satisfying to be zooming around a small enclosure while tactically ripping apart monsters while a heavy metal soundtrack plays. Its intense guitar riffs pair finely with the mayhem seen on screen, contributing more to an adrenaline boost. Props to Mick Gordon for composing a soundtrack befitting of a game such as this.
As for the story of Doom Eternal, it dives deeper into the lore and world of the Doom Slayer. There is an attempt, and I don't mind attempting to exposition dump bits of lore about Doomguy or the demons or anything else, but it didn't do much for me. I didn't find the story to be particularly engaging, but I didn't need it to be necessarily. It wasn't bad, but it did nothing for me. I spent more time watching other shows or enjoying the soundtrack while I played the game.
In terms of graphics and performance, Doom Eternal is a stellar piece of work. From the gruesome, highly detailed demon designs to the intricacies of the game world, the game was incredibly polished on release, it still is three years later, and it most likely still will be more years down the road.
This game is also hard as hell. I died multiple times over playing this, but if it weren't for the multitude of extra lives I picked up along every level, I would've had to repeat the game many times over. In conclusion, there's a lot that works about this game, and it's mostly just a solid improvement over 2016. For personal preferences, I'm gonna say that this is not my favorite game or the best game I played this year, as I prefer other genres of games over this specific shooter, but it's still incredibly sound. It's a great game that has immense replay value and is worth a play if you somehow have not played yet by this point. 4/5.
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deliriousgeek · 3 years
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She’s the Alpha (Owen Grady x Reader) .10
Masterlist:
Chapter 10
“That was a close one.”
“You open the gate, I’ll go in.” Owen hurriedly stated once he and Y/n came to a stop at the raptor enclosure. Without a moment’s hesitation, or a reply from Y/n, Owen began sprinting towards the gate. The concrete walls of the open enclosure did little to nothing to hide the snarls coming from within. Owen could hear Echo and Charlie calling to their older sisters, hopefully in an attempt to chide them away from ripping at each other’s throats. The sound carried over the concrete barriers, through the barred gates and into Owen’s ears. His heartbeat quickened and he felt his chest clench at every growl made. He could only imagine the damage Blue and Delta could have done to each other, praying to whatever higher being there was that he was wrong. 
The visceral sounds of the two sisters fighting could be heard from the car where Y/n stood.
Letting out a gasp of surprise at the threatening screeches, Y/n slammed her car door shut. “Are you crazy?” She shouted while running towards the man who was already putting protective armor to go inside the enclosure, “They might be babies, Owen, but they’re still raptors.”
Owen stopped putting on the armor for a brief moment to glance at Y/n, as if to contemplate her words before one of the raptors let out another snarl, a reminder of his needed urgency. 
As soon as the protective gear covering his arms, legs, and torso was completely strapped tight, Owen swung the first gate open and stepped inside. 
Y/n’s eyes widened as Owen locked the gate behind him. His eyes shot up to hers.
“To get all of us out of here safe, you need to do exactly as I say. Got it?” Owen’s brows furrowed.
Y/n wasn’t used to Owen’s gruff, stern voice. He had only ever spoken to her with a joking manner. In all the time they had known each other, Owen had never used such a commanding and serious tone. His voice dropped to a sound that Y/n could only describe as a deep chest voice. She supposed that would happen in a dire situation such as this. Stunned by the use of this new type of speech Y/n could only stare into Owen’s eyes as the noise of Blue and Delta fighting grew louder. 
She had taken a moment too long to reply.
“Y/n!” Owen snapped. 
His chest was now heaving with adrenaline. His girls were in there, fighting for goodness knows how long. Every second he spent out here could be a drop of blood, a tooth, a piece of skin or even a life lost. 
Y/n blinked at his voice raise. 
“I need all your focus right now. Can you do that?” Owen spoke again, this time with the same urgency but in a different, more gentle, tone of voice. 
A silent moment of understanding passed through them.
Y/n nodded. The adrenaline of the situation was now kicking into her veins. A new feeling of determination settled into her frame. Owen nodded a thanks before barking out the plan.
After quickly turning on the main lights, Owen could see the damage Delta and Blue had left to the enclosure. Dirt was kicked up, plants were crushed. Echo and Charlie could be seen in their respective cages, barking towards the center of the area. Following their line of sight Owen could see Delta and Blue circling each other, snarling, teeth bared, and snapping.
Blue had multiple scratch wounds on her haunches. They were bleeding and fresh. A bite mark could be seen just above Delta’s shoulder. It didn’t seem too deep, which brought a small ounce of relief to Owen’s vast pool of worry.
Owen stepped toward the main gates that led into the enclosure.
“On my count okay?” He called back to Y/n.
Y/n stared at the two sisters fighting, worry pooled in her eyes. “Okay.” She answered, in a just as determined tone.
“1,” Owen readied himself to run. “2,” Y/n let out a shaky breath as Owen counted down. “3!”
Y/n opened the gates and Owen ran into the enclosure, blowing a whistle and waving a piece of meat he had grabbed from the raptor’s feeding area. The two sisters halted their fighting upon hearing the ruckus coming towards them, turning their heads to look at the spectacle in front of them. 
The plan was that Owen would go inside the enclosure, distract the girls, then use the meat to lure them into their respective cages. Owen was now ten feet away from the adolescent velociraptors, their attention no longer on each other.
He let go of the whistle to grab another piece of meat from his utility belt. “Hey! Yeah that’s right, eyes on me.”
He began waving the two pieces of meat in the air. “You want some of this right? Not each other? C’mon, you can have it.”
The sisters looked at each other, before turning their bodies towards Owen. They began slowly slinking their way towards him, much like a cat would walk as it hunted its prey. 
Despite the fact that Blue and Delta only measured in about three feet in height, they still held an air of danger around them, and Owen had to remind himself that if he took one misstep, it could be the end of his life. 
“Alright girls,” Owen slowly led the raptors around their enclosure, back to their cages. “Okay, look at me Delta,” He waved the meat in front of her, “This is for you,” then he tossed a piece of meat into her cage. 
Delta’s eyes followed the movement of the meat from Owen’s hands to the floor of her cage before going inside after it. Y/n closed Delta’s gate as soon as her tail was in.
Owen’s eyes never left Blue’s. “Your turn now Blue,” Blue cocked her head to the side, “Work with me here okay? This one is yours.” Owen waved the meat, Blue’s eye flitted to the movement. “You want it? Go get it.” Owen tossed it into her cage. 
Blue immediately ran for it, instantly ripping the meat apart as soon as it touched her lips. 
Owen let out a sigh of genuine relief. The hard part was over. For now his girls were safe. Owen began walking towards the exit, at ease now that Blue and Delta were safe again. 
Y/n pushed the button to close Blue’s gate once she had run in. Once Y/n heard the machinery working to close the door, she let out the worried breath she was holding. She stepped away from the door control panels to smile at Owen, but her smiling dropped once she looked behind him. 
The noise the machinery had been making had stopped, which would normally indicate that the Blue’s door was closed. Only this time, the noise had stopped, yet Blue’s gate was still open. The anxiety that had left Y/n returned, and her eyes widened in dread. Blue had finished her snack, turned around, and fixed her eyes on Owen. 
Noticing Y/n’s change of expression, Owen arched a brow. “What? Is there something on my face?”
Y/n’s expression turned into horror as Bue began trotting out of her cage, then started to run. 
“Owen run!”
“What?” 
“RUN!” Y/n exclaimed again, rushing over to the door panel. 
Seeing the look of pure terror on Y/n’s face, Owen didn’t dare look back, but started sprinting towards the exit. Owen could hear the crunching of dried leaves under his feet as he ran. The trees lining the enclosure meshed into a canopy of green as he dashed by. He could hear the other velociraptor’s calling to each other. The sounds only egged him on to run faster. Owen’s heart pounded in his chest and its beating filled his ears. His heart beat mixed with Y/n’s screams and the look of pure terror on her face caused a surge of adrenaline to rush towards her and the gate. 
“CLOSE THE GATE!” He yelled once he was almost 10 feet away.
Y/n shook her head fervently. “Are you crazy?” She shouted back, brows furrowed and eyes wide.
“Just do it!” Owen replied as he almost neared the open gate.
Y/n’s eyes flitted between Owen and the gate button. She took in a quick breath, then pressed the button to close the gate. The gate then lowered as Owen neared, about 5 feet away. Y/n could still see Blue behind Owen. Blue was reaching her neck out, trying to close the 3 feet distance between her and Owen.
Owen calculated the distance between him and the nearly closed gate before deciding to jump into a dive. He tucked his legs inward as he hit the ground, rolling under the gate just in time for it to shut and keep Blue from biting him. Owen sat up, trying to calm his breathing. His back faced the shut gate. He could feel Blue’s let out irritated huff on the back of his neck, which sent an involuntary shiver of fear down his spine, before hearing her turn around and walk away.
Turning so his back was now facing the solid wall, Owen slumped against it. 
He closed his eyes, breathing in and out deeply before speaking, “That was a close one.”
Y/n pressed her back against the wall too, closing her eyes and copying Owen’s previous actions, “Yeah. No shit.”
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The Mayor
Part 3
“We start this evenings broadcast with shocking news from town hall. This morning at roughly 8:30 our dear Mayor was killed by none other than Doc Ock. Luckily for us though he is behind bars thanks to the efforts of Y/n L/n, who is now being sworn into office.” The camera showed the procedure and Y/n in a new outfit. A blue dress that fir her quite well. Otto couldn’t stand it. He had only been in prison for a few hours and he already hated his life more than before. He was drugged up and his machine felt much heavier than it used to, he had next to no control of his body. His only way to see the world was through a small grainy TV that was posted in the corner of his cell.
His cell was incomprehensibly unfitting for a man such as himself. An old bed that left a crick in his neck. A toilet which he thankfully hadn’t needed to use yet. And a small table in the corner with the even smaller TV. The walls of his cell were unbreakable. Some material he didn’t know the name of surrounded the outside of it. He could chip at the concrete but the outside wouldn’t budge. Somehow he was sure you had funded the building of this cell. Just to spite him. The TV showed you suddenly and his attention was drawn back,
“It was terrifying to be in the clutches of such a lunatic. I did what anyone would do, if only I could’ve done more to save our dear Mr Thomas. May he rest in peace.” What a load of shit, he thought. You had fooled the people just like you had fooled him,
“What will happen to Doc Ock?” Y/n brushed her hair out of her face and looked directly into the camera,
“After I visit him tomorrow, he’ll be getting what he deserves. I demand justice for the death of Mayor Thomas.” People clapped in the background and Otto shut off the TV trying to get some sleep. He dreamed of you and this morning. He dreamed of how he wished it went.
The rain pouring down over the both of you as he held you close. You’d look up at him and pull him in close kissing him softly and thanking him for saving the city. For saving you. His hands would wrap around your waist and he’d carry you back to your apartment and you two would dry off and have a romantic dinner together. Sharing your plans for the future of New York....
He awoke with a start. Some guard yelling at him to get up. Groaning he lifted himself from the bed and walked sluggishly towards the door. A series of clicks and other strange noises come from the other side of the wall before the door swung open. Being handcuffed yet again he was led to a glass enclosure. This is miserable, he thought. They’re treating me like an animal. He was sealed inside the glass and felt cool air conditioning by his feet. A large vent blowing freezing air and making the space breathable. It woke him up a bit. The effects of whatever they injected slowly wearing off. One of his claws knocked on the glass, no damage. He couldn’t just break out either, there were guards all over the entire prison. When the door opened again he scowled. You looked tiny compared to the metal door and waltzed in as if you were an old friend. You wore a long pale pink coat and black gloves finished off with a black ascot. You looked unbearably cute but knew what you really were,
“What do you want L/n?”
“I listen to the people, and they demanded I see you to know you’re reasoning for killing a public figure.” Slamming his fist against the glass he stared you down,
“I did it because you told me to, you crazy bitch.” You nodded in agreement pulling off your gloves gingerly and setting them in your pocket,
“And I did it because you made it easy, if you had been smarter I might’ve avoided you and picked someone else to help me.” His appendages moved like protective snakes behind him.
“Did you come here just to mock me?” You got closer to the glass tilting your head to see his expression he looked distant. It made you a little sad,
“I don’t want you to rot here in prison. Because despite all that I’ve said...” You cleared your throat,
“The greatest thrill and joy I’ve had so far was the short time I worked alongside you.” He met your eyes and did nothing for awhile. Then he just sighed and turned away from you,
“I can’t deal with this right now.” You frowned and stepped back,
“Fine. I understand you don’t exactly like or trust me. But if there’s anything I can do...just let me know.” God! You really were confusing. One minutes you’re kissing, then you have him thrown in jail and now you’re asking about doing him favors? What are you trying to do to this poor mans head?
“Tell the guards to give me some time before they take me back to my cell.”
—————POV CHANGE—————
He hears the door close and looks around before using one of his metal arms to pry the top off the air vent. He wasn’t going to fit through it but he could tear up the floor around it to make him fit. And that’s exactly what he did. While you told the guards to give him time and to treat him better than other prisoners the doctor was wondering through the giant vents. His brain felt sharp and alert again. So did his tentacles, a flicker of red warned him to stop but he wouldn’t, not when he’s gotten this far. Finally he found a vent to a control room. He burst through the ceiling and killed both the guards. He sat at the computer and began typing. Y/n was going to regret this. With a few clicks and the push of a button all cell doors, outside doors, and gates were unlocked. He’ll had been released and so had New York’s greatest super villains. The city would be chaos and with the record for shortest office time ever, Y/n would be kicked out and replaced. Maybe the new shmuck in charge would know how to handle the city. Leaving the room he flew down the halls. His tentacles taking him to the personal belongings room. Searching the drawers he found what he was looking for. Grabbing his jacket and glasses he exited the building (cue epic music). Walking over crowds of anyone from petty thefts to fellow evil doers he stepped into the freshly fallen snow. It was around noon, by nightfall this place would be a wreck. He saw your car leave the parking lot. His tentacles took over, the flashing red now bright and constant. One grabbed the car while another ripped the door off. He heard your screaming from inside and did nothing to hide the joy spreading across his face. Your face paled when you saw who had wrecked your car and you pushed yourself as far away as you could. He got closer to the car and looked in the gaping hole on the side. You were shaking against the door on the opposite side. A limb reached in and wrapped around her neck. She closed her eyes expecting the worst. But the machine only untied her ascot from her neck and tied it around her mouth. She tried to scream again but it was muffled by the gag. Then ripping leather from the interior of the car it was tied tightly around her wrists and ankles. Pulling her into the cold air she shook her head,
“I think it’s time Brooklyn sees the type of leader you really are. Let’s have some fun.” His voice was different now. Dark and clever. The wreckage of downtown broke your heart. Historical buildings destroyed or burned down. Hundreds of not thousands of criminals on the streets. Between the speed you were going at and the ice in your eyes they all looked like blurs. The wind stopped whipping at your face, you couldn’t see what was behind you but you could tell where you were. The bank, of course. It was hard to process everything. Eventually you stopped trying and just laid across his shoulder. Setting you down he demanded the bank teller open all the safes,
“If you don’t, I’ll break every bone in her body. One by one. When I’m done she’ll be so deformed her own mother won’t recognize her.” The teller scrambled with the keys and began unlocking everything. He laughed and began bagging what looked the most valuable,
“I hope you know this is very much your fault.” He smiled at you. The sinking in your stomach only went deeper. When he finished he picked you up once more like a rag doll and exited the building. Crushing the ceiling on the way out,
“Where shall we go? The city is ours.” He said nothing but got a devious glint in his eyes before taking you back through downtown. He stopped in front of your apartment. How did he know where you lived? When you entered the building it was like a ghost town. No employees or lobby boys. Only the distant sounds of chaos and the ding of the elevator as you ride it up to the top floor. Thankfully he didn’t know which exact apartment belonged to you. He set you down and you pointed to a door near the end of the hall. He didn’t bother to pick you back up or untie your feet so you could walk. He just dragged you behind him along the carpet while he talked about the design of the building. He stopped in front of your door. His human hands found their way to your waist. You tried to wiggle away from him but he reached down. You sighed when you realized he was only getting the keycard from your pocket.
You apartment was cold. He set you on the couch and began trying to light a fire in your fireplace,
“You have a lovely place, sure know how to use the tax payers money huh?” He let his jacket fall to the floor, revealing his bare chest. He must’ve been cold outside without a shirt on. He was out of sight and into your kitchen. He came back with a bottle of wine and a large glass. He left your hands tied but undid the restraints around your ankles and mouth. Taking a deep breath in you went to yell at him. Before you could you were pulled into his lap. Switching the TV on he shushed you and ran a hand down your back making you shiver,
“Is it the end times? Citizens of New York are wondering what is happening? Mere hours after Mayor L/n is elected the city falls into destruction. On her trip to visit Doc Ock it’s believed he escaped and freed the other prisoners. Riots, fires, building destroyed and collapsed in what’s possibly New York’s worst day yet.” The camera switched to different people getting interviewed,
“It’s terrible! I’m afraid to leave my home!”
“I knew we shouldn’t have elected a woman.”
“I heard she was working with the Doctor the entire time!” Tears burned at the corners of your eyes. You couldn’t reach the remote, and if you tried to get up he’d just pull you right back down. Guilt was the main emotion, but you felt some resentment as well. These people knew nothing! You were tricked... kinda, not really. But you never intended for this mess to happen. Karma had finally caught up with you. The people on the news kept taking and talking. You couldn’t take it anymore,
“Turn it off! Please!” Otto shrugged and changed the channel to a hockey game,
“Is all the pressure getting to you, Mayor?” His hand was resting on your thigh while the other held his wine glass. You wanted desperately to shower and go to bed. To wake up in a different dimension where nothing ever happened. The room became unbearably hot. You weren’t sure wether it was the fireplace or the guilt (or maybe something else),
“Could you untie my hands please? I’d like to get out of my coat.” You got off his lap and stuck your hands out for him to untie,
“Last time I trusted you, you and me thrown in jail. I’m not making that mistake again.”
“I’m not asking you to trust me, I’m asking you to untie my hands.” He stood up and began slowly uniting them. He watched you intensely as you took your coat off. Turning away from his gaze you walked into your bathroom and looked at yourself in the mirror. You were a strong powerful leader who was going to get out of this mess....somehow.
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dyventus · 3 years
Text
Estranged
AO3
Fanfiction.net
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Summary:
In which they are born into different lives.
Link, a Prince.
Zelda, a Peasant.
One night she remembers.
And he does not.
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Before you start reading I want to recommend @fatefulfaerie​ 's oneshot Eternal Love (on Tumblr). It has inspired this piece (and maybe some sequels to it). Its tragedy moved me in the wee hours of the morning to belt out what it below (as is typical of my creative habits). Of course, you can read this as a stand alone, too.
Faerie’s story
…                                                                                                      …
_______________________________________________________
…                                                                                                      …
Nothing could keep out the frostbite of his scorn. Regardless of the meager defenses presented to her in a jail cell, the stone wasn’t as cold as her heart.
Just whisper. Oh please, just let yourself whisper it to your conscious. Let the friction of the lie on your tongue be the only warmth you find.
Her ankles grated against the cobbles of her isolation.
“He’ll know,” a sob echoed. Denial made her throat tighten and choke.
Sobs. She was sobbing.
“I know. I remember. It’s not supposed to be this way,” she reasoned.
And yet it was. She was a stranger to the person she knew more intimately than any other; yet she had scarcely spoken a word to this man most beloved in her heart.
“I miss you,” she broke. Mirrors can be shattered more than once.
Had the goddesses really lied to them? Had they laid her in another life with him only to estrange them from one another? She would rather take on eternity.
“It’s not supposed to be this way.”
The groan of rusted hinges invaded the sparse privacy availed to her.
What next?
The sharp paces of formal boots stopped at her enclosure.
“What has you so convinced that this is a flawed condition? Why have you such a relentless notion of my… obligation to you?”
Oh, how grief can grow. But could she really profess to have lost him when she’s never held any claim to him in this life?
…Yes. That was a very real ripping sensation in her chest, wasn’t it?
A hoarse rasp: “If you had known paradise, could you so easily settle with a betrayal of hell… A hell of betrayal?”
She hadn’t turned. Couldn’t bear to see him see her but not see her.
“You mustn't speak in riddles if you possess any hope of elevating your current disposition. I do you a great favor to consider tolerating your presence after what you’ve done.”
Zelda curled. A rat squeaked. The soles of her feet chafed against the scratchy straw littered across the floor. She was living a level less than some livestock. All in the midst of cold unfamiliarity from her oldest friend.
“What do you want to know?” she whispered.
The toe of his boot scuffed the floor in tandem with an exasperated release of his lungs.
“Why? Why would you do something like that? You’ve thrown your whole life away. For what? A kiss? And an unrequited one at that! My sympathies do not stretch far for you… and yet… I cannot help but be frustrated at this whole situation.”
“I didn’t know you were a prince.”
She heard a rustle of clothing as he most likely expressed his discontent with her absurdity.
“So? Do you randomly kiss any man you fancy that happens to make eye contact with you? In the woods no less? To my knowledge, that is not a very wise relational policy.”
His speech was so much more refined in comparison to before, and it came in ample quantities as well. She wasn’t the same as her past self… and it appeared he certainly wasn’t either.
“I thought you knew me.”
He sighed, sounding a strange, different kind of upset.
“How could I? I barely know your name.”
“Don’t you think it’s possible that greater things than knowledge act in the balances of our thoughts?”
“Didn’t I tell you not to be vague?”
“Apologies. I only wish to preserve your meager faith in my sanity.”
“I already think you’re senseless; you needn’t worry,” he breathed.
Would he believe anything she said?... Did it matter?
“I do know you, though not in this life. You and I… We had a before. We…”
I must see his eyes when I tell him. Even if it hurts. She rotated her figure toward him, draped in rags and covered in dirt. He had been gripping the bars of her cell before she noticed and he stepped back, smoothing his vest. He looked up again only to be met with her resigned sorrow of longing for a stranger. His brow pinched.
“You and I are... soulmates.”
She whispered the word.
“We were married in our life before. There must have been something about our love that made the goddesses want to see it grace the world again… Or something about it that made them want to rip us apart. Reincarnation, we had been told. I was to be with you in this life as well.”
Unbidden, the vivid memory of his ephemeral touch rose like an undead. Calloused, thin fingers dragging along her skin. The electricity of his gaze. The encompassing nature of his attention.
”Or so we thought. Such a thing has no guarantee I suppose. I almost wish my shoulders hadn’t been weighted with this knowledge of you.” She gazed wistfully at the crisp waters of his eyes so sadly he almost stepped forward again. “Almost.”
“Why now? Why didn’t you find me at any other time?”
“That night I kissed you was the same as the one I remembered everything. I was overwhelmed and rash. And now I’m in jail. Fate may be cruel, but it knows what its doing.”
Regally, he bent to rest on the balls of his feet, one knee to the ground, one elbow on his other. Those eyes ancient to her soul peered guardedly through the slats of her cage. “I don’t remember you, though. How am I supposed to believe you?”
A single tear cut through the grime on her cheeks. “I don’t know. Maybe one day it will come to you as it did to me… Maybe.”
It was an incredibly disheartening thing to place doubt on a matter like this.
Link stared at her for an endless moment in time before his composure slackened and he ran a hand through his bangs, styling coming out of its set. He exhaled, backing up to the door once standing.
“I...will come see you in two days. I have to think.”
The hinges groaned back into place.
“I’ll wait, love,” she sighed.
_______________________________________________________
Would anyone be interested in seeing more of this? ✍(◔◡◔) I've never tried following up a oneshot like this before. (⊙_⊙;)
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renzu-valra · 3 years
Text
Prompt #26: Intrusion
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Character: René Badeaux  ♦  Region: Ishgard  ♦  Time: Present Hosted by: @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast​ Warnings: blood, corpse, injury
In the dead of night, death lurked these halls. Souls which should have been taken by the lifestream instead lingered here and roamed in transient freedom. It was not often his responsibility to tend to their needs, as they merely wished for frivolous things that needn’t his attention. Yet on certain nights, much like this one…he forfeited sleep so that he might secure the perimeter. To ensure that the most dangerous of these waking spirits were sufficiently sealed and could not escape.
And once he was finished checking each room, he made his way back upstairs and into the darkness of the manor with only a held candlewick to light his way. Yet even despite knowing these walls well, he had to keep his wits about him at all times. To listen carefully with all his senses for any trace of movement. Ever since that night…these corridors became even more lethal to traverse after sunset. His lord’s most precious pet was oft found wandering these parts of the estate. A slithering serpent of tremendous size…now uninhibited through death, its hunger could no longer be tempered through monthly feedings. She was always ready to feast.
René had no intention to remain out and about longer than need be. He would retire to his room until morning.
However, it would seem the fates had another plan in store for tonight. As he walked through the long halls, he came across an open window. He had first noticed something was amiss when he felt the temperature drop suddenly. Then he saw one of the dark hanging curtains billowing inwards—letting inside the quiet snowstorm…and an unkindly fellow as well, by the looks of it. There were wet stains on the carpet unlike the melting’s of the occasional trickle of snowy debris. They were more like the size of thick footprints.
Intruders were less common since the ongoing construction of the Firmament, yet…he had to question the stranger’s purpose for being here. Was it simply to find shelter for the night, or had they come in hopes of leaving with treasure? Or…
The direction the trail of footprints seemed to be heading led him to believe otherwise.
Kneeling down to get a better look at the wet stains, he noticed something else off. There was a faint stumble to them as well. Not unlike someone who was riddled with booze or other inebriating drugs. Yet…if that was truly the case, then he likely would’ve found their body out in the yard come morning as they like would’ve slipped on ice the way up. This wasn’t mere intoxication. Or rather, it was…but of an uncommon sort.
Deciding to continue down the path which led to the guest rooms, he kept a hand on the wall as he slowly followed the now drying trail. He was listening for any sign of vibration or loud stumble—aught at all that would give him indication of how close he was to finding this wayward intruder. And yet he heard nothing. Not the smallest of sounds save for his own footsteps.
That was, until he stood near the door of the only inhabited guest room. However, the sounds were far too obscure to make out simply from listening. It sounded almost as if…someone was mixing around a pot of liquid gelatin.
It would…be unbecoming of him to simply turn around and leave. Not when he knew someone had stolen about the property and was now inside the bedchambers of one of his lord’s guests. Even…if it caused his heart to quake in raw trepidation. He had never been able to forget that night. Not truly. No matter how desperately he wished it sealed within the deepest confines of his breast, he could never forget what he had done.
Knocking the wood frame next to the slightly ajar door, he voiced in a quiet tone: “Forgive my intrusion…” Then, he pushed the door open enough for him to step through. The room was pitch black save for the immediate area he encompassed as it was brightened by candlelight. It was hardly enough to see too deeply into the room, yet he sensed a presence nearby. Laying on the floor…where the strange sound he heard was coming from.
With each step, he felt his chest blacken with grime. This was wrong—the energy of this room felt grave and it weighed down on him with each passing breath. With each step forward, he felt as if he was lowering himself into a dark pit…and at the bottom would lay a coffin intended for him. He could still turn back, before he reached the end. Yet instead of pulling away, he continued onwards. Extending out his arm which held the candlewick. Wanting to feel the wood enclosure of his would be tomb.
And what he saw lying in wait for him at the bottom of the hole was a man. The faint light which but barely revealed his face told René only a fraction of the story which had just taken place here. From Nobushige’s lips and down his throat…staining his pure white night robes…was a thick mess of blood.  That sight alone should’ve had him questioning the reason as to why—yet his mind remained blank. He…instead, made to kneel down before him. His eyes calmly watching the dull, emptied eyes of the Raen. Blue, lusterless eyes which stared down into nothingness.
Nothingness that was in fact a fresh corpse of a man. His chest torn apart and bleeding out onto the floor. Their would-be intruder, as it seemed…
Nobushige knew that he was here, and yet…made no effort to respond. Which was…perhaps polite, given the circumstances. It allowed René a moment to process what he was to do next.
The man laying beneath them was well-built. They certainly weren’t disadvantaged—his musculature appeared at a glance well-built and trained. His clothing besides were richly tailored and unlike the tattered attire of those inhabiting the Brume. For what reason would he trespass another’s home? What reason indeed…
Bringing his eyes over to meet with Nobushige’s hand which laid on the man’s chest, he noticed an unusual abundance of red running down his arm. Setting down his held candlewick on the ground, he languorously reached out for the Raen’s hand. Caressing it tenderly in his gloved palms and lifting it slightly so that he might check for any injuries. “…Are you hurt?”
He felt as if his mind was lost in a false stupor he had yet to recover from. In his right mind, he would seek to rationalize the scene before him in quick pace. Yet at this point in time, he could not process the best course of action. He was unable to judge the man sitting before him in any capacity. Then he felt his heart soften. Nobushige’s eyes met with his and he smiled kindly…in a way that was neither twisted nor assuming. It told René all that he needed to know. That he was safe. Unharmed…and most of all, untarnished by this sinful act. That his soul was yet clean and not even a minuscule touch of dirt had sullied it.
That alone gladdened him. As for why, he could not say.
On his lips, that selfsame smile given to him by the Raen was mirrored. Death sat amongst them in this room, however he had never felt calmer than in this very moment. “Can you stand?” Nobushige responded with a simple shake of his head, no. “Very well…”
Taking the candlewick back in his hand, he made his way over to the nightstand next to the bed. Using the small flame alight atop the wax, he lit a triple set of candles to illuminate the room once darkened by heavy sludge. Setting his own light down on the table as well, he then returned to Nobushige’s side so he might help him off the ground. “With me, now.” Placing his arms underneath the Raen’s shoulders, he began to lift the slender man up onto his feet. Then, moving his hands over to his side, René helped walk Nobushige over to the bed before sitting him down on the plush blanket. During that brief moment of closeness, he came to understand that the blood on the Raen’s clothes had not come solely from the invasive pest laying dead on the floor. Which was perhaps why he could not stand on his own.
Now in the light, he could see it more clearly. The hole which had ripped through the Raen’s silks and drove deep into the space under his left shoulder. If not for the knife he now noticed resting on the bed behind the Raen’s back, he would’ve doubted the plausibility of such a wound. It was far too wide to have been made by such a meager tool, and yet…if Nobushige hadn’t considered the injury—or assault itself—painful…what would’ve stopped his assailant from abusing the cut further?
In any case, it needed immediate treatment. Calling for the chirurgeon would take too long, and he already knew this room had been supplied with a medical kit. He would have to handle it himself.
And in a matter of seconds, René would have the kit placed on the bed by his side as he rolled up his sleeves and made to sanitize his hands. Peeling away the thin layer of clothes which concealed the Raen’s shoulder, he then started prepping his tools. Blood loss had kept the man from standing up on his own earlier, not the agony of such a wound. He realized that as he cleaned the gash and sub-sequentially made to stitch the hole closed. Nobushige did not flinch, nor make the smallest sound of discomfort. No, they remained in silence for the entire procedure. It was only after he had finished and closed the kit back up did he think to speak. Even then…he couldn’t quite will himself to break this quiet scene.
Instead, he wished to confirm something. A vague theory which came to him as he patched up the unwavering Raen and fought against the dim light to keep his focus. Before proving it though, he first made to wipe away the blood from the other man’s face. With a clean handkerchief he kept in his pocket, he gently rubbed the grime gone until all that was left was the delicate expression of someone who stared at him in gratuity.
He should be scared. This was entirely out of line for someone of his rank. The anxiety that should’ve swelled in his heart somehow never came to be—his heart instead turned soft when he understood from the start that the reason he did not question the grotesque scene he interrupted with upset was because he knew he was at peace. In the passionless eyes of the serene Raen, he felt his doubts quelled and resolve mended from the very second he walked into the room and saw him there on the ground.
It wasn’t the familiarity of violence which tamed him—rather…the unusual thinking that it was somehow beautiful and not a vile display of cruelty. That divine grace possessed this man and refined elegance alike. This wasn’t a room contaminated by rot and filth, but instead one rich with decency. Thus the hesitance which should have gripped him did not come.
Bringing his hand to the Raen’s scaled cheek, he leaned into the man and quietly kissed him once before pulling away and letting his hand sink. He was right. He had already been forgiven. Or perhaps…he had done nothing to which the Raen would think to give blame. Nobushige’s heart was unlike his—unlike any he had ever met. It could take on any measure of sin and yet still resonate pure white light. As if it hadn’t been touched at all…
The lack of response from him proved it. Nobushige’s desires were not of this plane. He stood above all the pitiful souls which flooded this world with their dirt. And yet, like a god…he would accept their impurities even so and forgive them their baseness.
Comforted by this ideal…René set about to clean up his mess. With the medical supplies now stored away again, the butler refastened his gloves onto his hands and dropped to his knees before the corpse which now began to stink. “I will dispose of the body and return to clean the blood promptly.” He said, making to lift the putrid thing into his arms and carry it off.
Half expecting to leave in silence, René paused when he heard the harmonious whisper of the Raen call out to him. “No…I am expecting another shortly. Someone…important to me. I would bid a moment of privacy.” Another…at this hour? He didn’t know what to expect, but it would be impolite of him to inquire further.
“It shall be as you request. By your leave…”
Making away with the body, he pondered his options of disposal. Only one would be appropriate…however…he questioned another possibility out of selfish want. To feed the abhorrent remains of the man to the creature which lurked through these halls and be rid of him entirely…in foolish desire he might once again chance upon such a precious scene.
The moment such a thought crossed his mind however, he wavered. What was becoming of him? Such ways of thinking were untoward of him, and standing alone in the darkness of the manor’s halls made him want to brush off this doubt quickly and leave it for another day.
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paperstarwriters · 3 years
Text
Untimely Thirst
I am not a MegOp shipper. I don’t mind it and it can look hekka cute at times, but I am not an active shipper of it, so take the fic with a grain of salt. It’s a Vampire/Werewolf au fic based off of this thread from @optimus-audio-fins​ and @yeetmetothehell​ (Sorry if you didn’t wanna be tagged I kinda just assumed) Also this is my first MegOp fic so... I’m a bit unused to it. Sorry.
I’m also gonna warn you that there are a few innuendos that slipped in and I’m really freaking sorry but someone is sucking someone else’s energon, OK? not my fault we decide to say the “Vampire sucked him dry” (or maybe I’m a bit dirty minded IDK) Also this has little to no editing! why? Easy, I’m lazy. Don’t hold it against me. If you find any major errors feel free to point them out. I don’t mind going in and changing things.
Having said that, enjoy!
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Looking back on it, Optimus should not have jumped right back into battle after nearly getting his aft handed to him by those monster hunters. He most certainly should have taken heed of Ratchet’s warnings and even more so, he should have taken something to drink. 
Although the humans have expressed their interest and lack of fear from the fact that Optimus is basically a “space vampire” he still did not want them to learn about some of the other aspects that come with a pair of fangs. He is much more than a glorified bat— he can’t even turn into a bat! He couldn’t exactly blame them of course, their encounters with his kind were often quick and without explanation, so humans had to make up some information to explain the event to themselves. Whatever the case, he would much rather listen to Miko ask for the hundredth time if he would turn into a bat than be in this predicament.
A fight in an energon mine was something that did not often end up well, this was no exception. Too many shots deflected from themselves instead hit the walls or pillars of the cave, and now they were stuck, an enclosure far too cramped to fight in, but large enough that they could at least sit apart like civilized mechs. They were able to stand before, but between their attempts at fighting and the attempts of blasting a hole to escape, they were forced to sit together and wait for help to arrive. 
Meanwhile, Megatron fared arguably worse, at least in his own eyes. Optimus showed no sign of his predicament, while Megatron was forced to display it before himself.  During the fight he had intended to utilize his own extra ability, termed “werewolf” by humans. Aeons fighting as a gladiator allowed him to regulate his transformation, meaning he could hang in a range between his usual form and going for a full wolf, but something about Unicron’s blood affected his transformation. It took much longer to return to normal and unless he wished to walk around with dog ears and a tail he rarely turned. Today however, was a fight against Optimus. He brought his all to every match as he always did, and as a consequence, he sat in this enclosed place with Optimus trying desperately to hide his furiously wagging tail. It didn’t help that his scent filled their little room, only making his tail wag faster, and his ears twitch as he longed to rest them upon his chassis to listen to the soft thrum of his spark.
Both with their own hardships to hide, they sat, silently. Awkwardly. It was going to stay that way until they were saved. Correction, it was supposed to stay that way until they were saved. Optimus’ needs however did not relent and weighed down on him heavier than the stones above their helm. In his unwilling observations of Optimus his hardships did not go unnoticed by Megatron. The way his frame rattled as he shook, and his labored ex-venting, that caused him to flare his fangs. Not to mention the unnaturally brighter glow of his optics. In the same way Orion would have his occasional hunger pangs, Optimus, despite being a prime, still craved. Without thinking, Megatron spoke up.
“Do you need a drink?” 
He even offered his arm. It hung there a moment, while Optimus’ jaw remained in his lap. Megatron did not fare much better than a series of “ah, um, well” spilling from his vocalizer in the same fashion Starscream did when he was seriously considering the pros and cons of tearing off his wings. Or more horrifyingly, the same string of noises Orion made when he first offered his energon for him to drink. 
It took a moment for Optimus to regain his senses. Of all the things to happen that was not one of them. It took the feeling of fluids dribbling from the corners of his mouth for him to snap it shut, and consequently snap his mask on right after it.
“No.” It was flat. Bitter. Fake. His usual response, his usual demeanor against his enemy. The dance they both knew for so long. Megatron could work with this. 
“Why Prime?” he grinned, lopsided and cocky, flashing his own sharpened denta and trying to ignore how his tail seemed to pick up the pace. “Afraid I may stab you in the back? As we’ve already confirmed we cannot do that here. After all, it is your denta in my lines. If I tried anything too suspicious for you you could easily drain me. No?”
His heating fans kicked in. A loud roar amidst the silent little cavern they were stuck in, and a louder roar in Megatron’s ears. He couldn’t help it though, he did want to taste Megatron’s energon again. It was sweet, intoxicatingly so, and even more so after a battle. He could drink it for hours if he was allowed to, but that would mean that he’d hurt his friend, and in the past that’s what inevitably stopped him. Now, however, that barrier was worn down. He had no qualms about punching him, shooting at him, or even attempting to sheath his blades in his chassis. It did not however mean that he wanted him dead. No, he only wanted him back. Aeons of war and he still thought in that same foolish way he did as an archivist. Ratchet was right, he did go soft. 
“I do not want or need your energon Megatron,” he lied, staring him straight in the eye as he did. “Even if I did, it’s tainted.” 
That was true. Dark energon pulsed along with his usual energon intake, and for the first time in a long time, Megatron cursed Unicron’s blood. He didn’t have any feasible reason to convince Optimus to drink his energon. Tainted now with dark energon, his own energon must have smelled disgusting. It must have seemed revolting. At the very least he did not have to worry about his wagging tail anymore.
“It’s not like you have much of a choice.” It felt like an excuse— one he was trying to tell himself rather than Optimus. “By the way you sound, I doubt you would be able to hold up until any help arrives, yours and mine.” He leaned back smirking as he was once more granted the upper hand. “Even if you do, how hungry would you be by then? What would you do if it was your precious medic that came around? Or perhaps the scout Bumblebee? Would you drain them at first glance?” He bit his glossia then forcing his train of thought to a halt before he began to spill too much.
That… That was a good excuse to drink from Megatron’s lines again. Dark energon or not, Optimus craved to sink his denta into his proto-flesh again. To relish in the taste of energon pouring down his throat directly from Megatron’s lines. It always felt as if it was being pumped right to his awaiting glossia when he drank it right after Megatron came back from a battle. Sure, Ratchet’s energon tasted nice as well, but nothing seemed to beat the sweet flavor he got from Megatron. It took a lot of willpower just to keep himself from revving his engines, a bad habit that occurred when he got excited, carried on from his life as Orion pax. One that Megatron would most certainly notice and recognize. As much as he wanted to— as much as he craved it, he still refused to drop his guard. Why was Megatron so intent on supplying him energon anyways?
“Why...Why do you want me... to drink from you?” he managed through heavy ex-vents. It was getting bad. Incredibly bad. 
It was most certainly getting bad. Caught red handed for something he did not think about. For all his planning and consideration to convince Optimus to drink from him, he never managed to formulate a feasible excuse. For now, at least, he had to buy time. 
“Why indeed,” he wondered aloud, forcing his face into a sly grin. He allowed himself a pause to consider his next words carefully, cautious to save a part of his processor to regulate his face. “Perhaps it is to ensure that none of my troops are felled by your fangs.” That sounded… okay… right?
Apparently it did not as Optimus arched an optical ridge. “I was unaware you still cared for your crew, considering you did not raise a digit to aid them as the mine collapsed.” Right. There were most certainly a good number of Vehicons that may be caught in the rubble, and Megatron was far too preoccupied fighting Optimus to care. Optimus on the other hand did his best to ensure his team was safe, even amidst fighting him.
He chuckled at the comment and smirked, a look that irked and irritated Optimus. Just let him suffer in peace already. The more this dragged on the more he could feel his defenses wear down. “Well, Prime, perhaps I wanted to see you succumb to your… oh, what was it called again?” No. He knew well what it was called and he refused. “I recall Orion talking all about it once… ah yes, an energon frenzy, wasn’t it?” If he was in that state, he could rip him apart. Turn feral with barely a twitch of an optic. Of course that was what Megatron wanted. Force him to fight on his level. Like a gladiator, only concerned for their own life. Like a monster, without thinking. It made his lines run cold.
Perhaps he overstepped his bounds. Optimus was no longer trembling, his armor instead clamping around his frame. Even his auditals which Megatron had taken to watching twitch back and forth while Optimus wasn’t looking now froze in place before they lowered in the same manner he would flatten his ears against his helm. The only remaining reminder of his hunger was in the burn of his optics, now glowing far brighter than it did before, the bright beams focused right on him in a hateful glare. A spotlight for him and him alone, and one he was used to returning with a smile.
They glared at one another, a glare that any from their own teams would be interpreted as hateful glares, seeking to eagerly claw out one another’s optics if only the situation had been better. Instead, two masks faced one another—
I want to drink Megatron’s energon!
I want Optimus to drink my energon!
—both hiding the same thing.
They sat there for a few more minutes, glaring before the tremors returned. They were barely noticeable at first if not for the aid of Megatron’s heightened hearing. Slowly that grin became real. He grew eager awaiting Optimus’ inevitable unravel before him. Simultaneously, Optimus’ scowl, revealed once his battle mask snapped back from the increasing tremors, became more real as well. He did not wish to succumb to Megatron’s wishes, but more so, he did not want to end up sucking Megatron dry.
The tremors increased, and the haze was beginning to seep into his processor. Everything smelled so heavily of energon— likely because they were in a collapsed energon mine— but it smelled specifically of Megatron’s energon. His spark spun in his chest as the dizzying urge overtook his processor, crawling over his shielding walls and forcing his optics to snap away. To look away, to look anywhere else but at Megatron.
He leaned onto his servos now, mouth opening and closing as he panted, showing off his denta glowing red as they were caught in the spotlight of his optics. He was only vaguely aware of his wagging tail as he watched Optimus come undone. It took a tremendous amount of willpower to keep himself from bending as well, he wanted Optimus to ask him, but if it took any longer…
“Megatron.” He sounded so strangely weak despite the bright intensity of his optics. “May I drink your energon?”
There’s drool slipping past his fangs, dripping down his chin and onto the floor, but he cannot find the will inside himself to care. He’s so, so thirsty, and while any energon would suffice at this point, he doesn’t want anyone else’s. Even if help were to arrive, just in the bare nick of time, both the Autobots and the Decepticons would have to pry him from Megatron. Even though Megatron offered first, it still comes as a surprise when he immediately raises his arm before him. Optimus is only vaguely aware of the soft and subtle thump as Megatron’s tail hits the ground in it’s furious wagging, but he doesn’t have the mind to process such or to even care. He traces the seams in his armour, mostly the same since he last drank from him, and he opens his mouth to sink his fangs into the proto-flesh at one of the seams. 
Dark energon is strangely sweet, but it’s a fake candy-like flavor that is easily distinguished from Megatron’s own energon. It’s every bit as intoxicating as he remembered long ago sweet, but now a degree of something savory was so much clearer now, whether this was enhanced by the dark energon, or time and aging, he may never know. Whatever the case, he greedily drank what his energon lines pumped onto his tongue, savoring every drop, knowing it may be many more aeons before he was granted another taste.
Megatron’s tail hit the ground so harshly that it was beginning to hurt. The bite on the other hand felt blissful, painless, and as wonderful as it did long ago. The sheer trust needed to offer someone like Optimus in order to make sure they were not drained of their energon, was not lost upon him. As much as the idea mixed with the ongoing war made his tanks twist into knots, he shoved them to the back of his processor. He’d use it as an excuse later. A reason why he most certainly did not indulge in such a… close encounter. For now Megatron let himself feel his energon flow into Optimus. A piece of himself being given to Optimus. Romantic, in some incredibly twisted sense, befitting for the two of them. Miraculously, even though Optimus was drinking Dark energon, it did not take any visible effect. 
It would take a while for Dark Energon to properly settle in his energon lines. An upside to being a “space vampire” his resistance to foreign energons was much higher and with the added aid of the matrix, the two seemed to cancel each other out. Meaning he could continue to drink for just a little longer. He could take another sip of his fallen friend’s energon. He could savor another taste of Megatron. He was deaf to everything but the slow thrum of his energon lines and his spark. He wanted more— he wanted it all. Greedily he kept drinking and drinking, becoming more and more lost. A blood frenzy was approaching, he could feel it, feel it dribble into his consciousness, but this was what Megatron wanted to see wasn’t it? If Megatron wanted to see him delve into madness the same way he did for dark energon, he was more than willing to put on a show, more than willing to show off because he—
“Orion.” It was a soft whisper, strained as Megatron glared with tired optics.
Otpimus tore himself from his enemy’s arm checking internally for his energon levels and most importantly dark energon levels. It was close. If he drank any more, he may have actually begun to have some problems. It was diluted with regular energon, something that likely aided the slow intake. Optimus spared a worried glance to Megatron, who’s smirk seemed much more forced now that he could focus on it. The wagging tail and twitching ears became quickly apparent as well and just before Optimus could ask him about it, Megatron beat him to the punch.
“No, energon frenzy? Funny seeing as you were just about to drink me dry.” He chuckled earning a scowl from Optimus.
In that moment, a stone was shoved aside, revealing a beam of light other than their red and blue ones. A breath of fresh air seeped in through the hole, washing away the scent of energon, and each other. 
“Optimus! Are you okay there?”
“Just fine, Bulkhead.”
More rocks were scooped away, and the two war leaders stumbled out into the excavated cavern. Optimus wavered his audital fins still twitching as he felt the tendrils of that energon frenzy seeping into him, already draining his mental energy as he fought against it. Megatron fared no better having been literally drained, as he was taken aside by Soundwave Bulkhead scowled giving a stiff nod to the silent mech who returned the nod before they parted ways, their leaders in tow. 
“Sorry Prime, I had to team up with him to get you out…” Bulkhead muttered as if it was a horrible act. “In... the moment it was a wise choice Bulkhead…. I… I appreciate your efforts.” He managed to mumble as a ground bridge opened up. The swirling colors made him dizzy and irritated, but he forced himself to keep quiet about it.
“You sure you were okay with bucket head?” It took him a moment, recalling Miko having coined the name after Megatron and his helm’s likeness to a bucket. 
He considered his choices in what to say, taking care to avoid the truth, overthinking it immensely as he settled on, “it was fine.”
“Ratchet’s got some energon for you when you get back to base, just hold on a little longer Prime” Optimus barely managed to hide his grin, tuning away just in time to see Megatron disappear in his own ground bridge a safe distance away.
“It’s alright Bulkhead. I’ve had my fill.”
Now, if only he took the chance to pet him.
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Mermay - Dilliam - Calming the Merman
After the human sister and merfolk brother had an argument, Mark and William decide they need to step in to try and find a solution. Mark goes to talk to his fiancée, while William makes the trip outside to find Damien. Hopefully it goes well…
Word Count: 1,664
Part One, Part Two.
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William carefully made his way down the steps to the rock pool. It was easier to navigate without the clunky boot toppling him off-balance, but it inspired him to consider making a safety railing to make it less treacherous. When he reached the bottom, he noticed that Damien was nowhere to be seen, confirming his hunch that something happened between the siblings. But rather than making it look too obvious that he was checking in on Damien, he pulled out his small notebook and pencil and began making notes. He didn't try being quiet either, as he counted the steps he took to the picnic bench, hummed and muttered to himself about various modifications, argued with himself about the pros and cons of a little wall at the bottom of the walkway, and even opened and closed the chest hidden in the rocks to test the condition of the hinges.
William's knocking of the picnic bench was the last straw as Damien slowly raised his head out of the water. William - who was mid-knock - froze at the sight of the glare he'd get from Celine in a more intimidating mer variant. 
"Pray tell there is a reason that you're making such a racket." William gulped, slowly lowering his hand back to the table.
"I didn't think anyone was here, so I thought I'd come down and start planning ahead -"
"Oh, yes. To go with whatever is needed to turn this into my 'home'. You don't need to work on anything. I don't need an enclosure."
-
"Enclosure?" William repeated with a confused blink. "I'm trying to see how I can weather-and-ocean-proof this place. Did you see this bench? It's not even painted, let alone varnished. It'll be ripped apart in a few years." Damien glared at William for several, long seconds before he sighed.
"Fine. Whatever. Just stop being so noisy." He began to move to go back under the water, only that William called his name.
"Wait wait! I need a second opinion. What colour should the bench be?"
"Why should I care? Any wood colour will be fine."
"But it can be painted any colour. The varnish to protect it would go on afterward and that dries clear. We could paint this like the rainbow if you wanted. Well, have a think about it." He was going to leave it at that, but should Damien be allowed to sulk underwater? "Actually, before you go, can you check something for me?" Damien rolled his eyes, but was too polite to simply refuse.
"... What?"
"The rocks. What are the bases like? Will they need any sort of support to keep them in place?" Damien nodded at the request and ducked under the surface.
"The rocks are well grounded. Storms shouldn't knock them," he responded once he emerged, "But you shouldn't put anything in between the rocks either. See how they're shaped? The water has gradually eroded them over the years. It means the water will flow through without causing disruption. Putting anything in the gaps would only create a blockade that would harm the creatures that make their home on the rocks underwater."
"Huh… I never considered that. So is it safe there?" Damien's nod had William quickly taking notes in his book. 
"Since the base of the rocks are closer together, it's the perfect spot to sleep without being disturbed. I don't need any sort of shelter."
"I wasn't going to build a shelter," William quickly reminded him.
"Sure. Celine probably told you she wanted somewhere for me to live and feel part of the family, right?" No answer. "Thought so. I'm only giving you the benefit of doubt since all this is new to you, but merfolk aren't the same as humans." William, genuinely interested in what he was being told, moved around the picnic table so he could sit on the ground closest to Damien. "Merfolk don’t live in ‘homes’. Instead, they have nests in a community setting. It's in our instinct to travel throughout the year. The distance and duration depends on the species, from what I've seen. Some migrate to warmer waters, others travel if they desire to breed -"
"Is that why you travel so much?" Damien's glare and raised fins had William whip his hands up in self-defence again. "I'm curious! I'm a man who travels a lot as well!" 
"I suppose you might understand better than others, mayhaps." His collarbone fins settled down to their normal position again as he swam forward to lean against one of the rocks protecting the path beside William. "It started from trying to find our distant relatives when I was old enough to make the voyage across the Pacific. Over time, it became fuelled by my need to understand mer culture. Being raised like a human child has its advantages, but I missed a lot of vital skills and cues that would help me as an adult. I had certain habits as a child that my family thought were merely quirks, but they were instincts I was trying to develop, and had to relearn in later years. I couldn't hold it against them - no one in my family knew what to do - but they have a habit of trying to… humanise me, I suppose." Damien rested his chin on the cool rock with a sigh, the tip of his tail idly bobbing up and down.
"In them trying to do what's best for you, they think of it from a human point of view?" At least, that's how William was understanding it. The merman nodded solemnly as his eyes lowered to the rocks.
"It sounds like I'm so ungrateful for everything they've done, doesn't it?"
"I don't think so. You know what's best for you. And I've been tasked to do right by you. So… What would you like done here?" When Damien looked up at the question, William felt his heart tighten in sympathy for the poor merman. "What I mean is - can you think of anything that might make this place feel a little more homely by merfolk standard? I've done handiwork in houses before, but never nesting grounds. If we're doing this, it needs to be done right. But I’ll be working in the house first, so whatever needs to be done here will be a little lower down the list. And even then, I have small tasks to do here first - like, did no one think of buying a box with waterproofed hinges? They're already starting to rust. I could probably find paint to have it blend it better into the rocks and -"
"William?" Damien's voice cut the rambling clean in two. "Thank you. It's nice talking to someone who has no experience with any of this but who wants to learn. I feel like you honestly want to listen to me instead of deciding on my behalf. I’ll have a think about your offer." William looked down. The pair locked eyes and smiled simultaneously.
"You're welcome. But between you and me, I'd choose your opinion over Celine's when it comes to the rock pool."
"I'd certainly hope so. This isn't even a rock pool. It's a rocky shore. You see how the rocks slope gradually at the base of the cliff? It would normally be hidden by sand on the beaches you might be used to. A rock pool is a shallow pool of water that forms in rock that has been eroded by the tide over many years."
"Oh. I didn't know that. I thought it was called a rock pool since this section looks a little like a swimming pool surrounded by rocks? You know, the rocks stop the tide pulling you away in this little bit, but then you can go that way into the proper ocean?"
Damien paused, lifting his head to take in the surroundings with a different viewpoint. As he realised that William was right, he giggled. The soldier had to quickly rely on years of military practice to keep a straight face. That sound was unlike anything he had heard before, including previous times Damien laughed. It was music to his ears. He was enthralled.
"I wouldn't be opposed to calling this place 'The Rockpool' for that reason. Mayhaps we could ask Celine to make a sign…. Oh no." Memories of their last conversation came back to him in a flash. "I was so angry at her earlier. Could… Could you fetch her for me? I need to apologise. I should know better than to lose my temper. It isn't right." As much as he wanted to continue talking to William, he needed to set things right. William seemed to agree as he slowly climbed to his feet and stretched.
"Clearing the air is a good idea. I can tell you that she doesn't want to build you a house. All she wants is for you to feel comfortable, but perhaps she doesn't fully know what that is since she might actually be thinking from a human standpoint." William slowly shook life back into his legs as he added, "For what it's worth, I'll be doing the work. Whatever happens here will need your approval first. End of." It was a reassurance that worked wonders. He dismissed himself and made his way toward the steps to find Celine.
"Orange!"
"Pardon?" William was barely halfway up the stairs before he spun around to the water. Damien had swum across the pool toward the steps, his demeanour already brighter.
"I want the picnic table to be orange! Some of the corals I love in the nesting grounds are orange."
"Orange it is!" William gave a salute and picked up the pace to hurry back inside. Once out of sight, Damien dove back into the water to quickly do laps and shake off some of the energy that built up while talking to William. What was it about William that made Damien feel like everything was going to be alright?
Was this love?
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astra-musings · 4 years
Text
catch a break, part 2
requested? yep, continuation of a request by @faithiebrock01​
this fic includes: owen grady x ready, fluff(?), ooc? kinda? lots of question marks today
warnings: some graphic imagery, the indom kinda uh eats a person so there’s that, but i don’t think i got too much into the details so,, also im pretty sure my grammar and tenses are all over the place in this lmao
summary: chaos. that’s... kinda it. a lack of understanding and a great deal more of underestimating a genetically-engineered animal’s intelligence and abilities definitely creates a mess that you can’t even begin to clean up.
a/n: so... my last update was... apparently a month ago... im SO sorry... covid really fucked me up, it got IB exams cancelled and idk how to feel! im sorry! but uh i will definitely try to be more consistent (ahem) with updates, i feel so bad oh no but 🥺please still give this lots of loveee
word count: 1.8k+ (oops)
part 1 // part 1.5
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Your body involuntarily tensed upon entering the Indominus's enclosure. You were looking for an entire dinosaur (which, when you think about it, was weird; how did something that enormous go missing?), and yet couldn't help serenity that bubbled inside you from being in a forest and submerged in nature's sounds. Talk about conflict.
Owen immediately walks over to the claw marks, hands reaching out to trace over the whitened cement. If you didn't actually know him, you might've called him excited to be here. You knew he wasn't.
You'd only been standing in the heat for a few minutes but could already feel your clothes gradually dampening with the sweat that started to gather. "How the hell would that thing have gotten out, anyway? Not like it could've walked out without anyone seeing it."
Barely a second passes before the too-familiar sound of rustling leaves comes from behind you. Too far to be something on the ground. Too crisp to be just a few leaves you stepped on. And much too loud to be just the wind. Owen's shoulders tense visibly before he turns back to you, already trying to make sure you were close by.
Your eyes meet his in silent confirmation. It's still here.
Right before the warning signals from your brain can reach your limbs, a roar rips through the jungle-like enclosure, so deep and so loud that it vibrates in your ribcage, as though you stood too close to the speakers at a party and someone was playing bass-boosted hits.
Owen reacts before you do, grabbing your wrist and turning the other way. Your legs move on their own accord, stepping into a sprint before your brain actually registers what's happening. 
The security guard that was frozen stiff in the control room must've been keeping an eye on the two of you with the cameras while you were in the enclosure, because the reinforced gates a few feet away from you started sliding open. You only hoped you had enough time to slip through the opening before the Indominus did.
But just as you and Owen closed in on the gates, they started to close again. Owen throws the briefest glance back towards the control room, as if the guard could hear the nearly audible 'what the hell?' his face was giving off. You push the wrist he was holding towards him. Keep moving.
Adrenaline fuels your bodies, steering you and Owen on autopilot towards the gate that, at this point, seemed like it was moving further away. The gap through which you’d escape wasn't getting any wider either.
Owen reaches his hand out, extending his form, as though he was holding open the doors to an elevator. As if it would stop hundreds of tons' worth of metal and cement.
Your ears ring. Owen's body slips swiftly through the still-narrowing gap of the metal gates as his grip on your hand tightens almost painfully. A reminder that both of you were going to make it out of that enclosure. I've got you. You're with me.
And you do; you nearly crash into him as you push your legs just that much more so that you could catch up to Owen.
You turned back to look at the gates, feet still running on autopilot. Instead of seeing the gates close and finally allowing your body to come to a halt, hooked claws slipped through the seemingly too-small gap, its tips digging into the hard, layered cement as though it was anything but.
"You're fucking kidd–" You barely get the entire sentence out before Owen pulls you to the side, pushing you under an SUV as he followed a second later.
You manage to turn your head to the side, straining your eyes as you tried to gauge what the hell this animal was trying to do. Turns out, it wasn't that hard to figure out – you watched the workers' scrambling feet run across the gravel, trying to get themselves to safety, only to be followed by the too-large and too-scaly feet of the Indominus. You watched as its claws came to a brief halt behind each man and woman, before a distant thud ensued, followed by a headless or torso-less figure dropping onto the ground. You watched as those same claws grow nearer to where you and Owen were.
You gripped his hand. Your breathing was still labored, not having been able to come down off of the adrenaline that still kept you going.
Owen's hand pulls out of yours, prompting you to snap your head towards him in worry. What are you doing? Where are you going?
He seems to read your mind, nodding slightly as a response. He pulls a drop point knife from his back pocket, reached up above him and immediately started to tear apart some of the thicker linings on the underside of the vehicle.
You jab your elbow into him as silently as you could; what the hell was he doing? Was he going to blow up the car while you were still under it?!
He ignores you, continuing his relentless crusade on the wiring. Soon after Owen pulls them and empties its contents over the both of you as you scrunch your nose and eyes up. You're showered with cold liquid – water? No, water didn't stink; this was gasoline. Would this hurt the baby? Now you're really worried. You'd always trusted Owen in making decisions before, especially regarding your raptors, but now you were starting to question him for the first time.
A crunch in the gravel makes you spin your head to face the exterior of the car. It's those claws again. You'd almost forgotten about them in your, what now seems like blissful ignorance, worrying about Owen and his knife work.
Owen's hand grips your outer forearm, swiftly turning your body sideways to face him as he does the same. He didn't want you to keep looking. You feel his hand cradle your head to his chest. 
Warmth spreads across your back. No, not from what Owen was doing. It was a literal, physical warmth. Like someone turned a fan on, but it spun out hot air instead of cool air. Like what you'd feel if someone whispered so close to ear that you could feel their breath on you.
It was the Indominus. Didn't take a genius to figure that part out. Except, now that you knew what it was, your nose seemed to involuntarily hone in on the metallic hints of the air that continued to fan across the both of you. Blood.
Your eyes screw shut as you press your forehead farther into Owen as the Indominus lets out a low growl from the base of its throat. It was so close to you, you felt your chest vibrate with the sound.
Almost as quick as it came, the Indominus struts away from the vehicle, away from you. The thumps and vibrations ripple across the ground, fading with the Indominus's continuous, low growls.
The gravel shifts once more, only this time it was right next to you, and the source of the sound was Owen – one you knew and one that was much, much, more comforting than some genetically-engineered beast. Fishing for his phone, he pushes his hips up to reach into his back pocket. His fingers move deftly across the screen, swiping and punching for some currently unknown number. The hand behind your head holds you closer to his chest.
The dull ringing of the phone is interrupted, "Owen! The Indominus esc–"
"Yeah, I fucking know it escaped! You didn't see Y/N and I running for our fucking lives, Claire?!"
So it was Claire on the other end.
"Of course I saw, Owen. I saw everything. Are you okay? How's Y/N?–"
"You don't get to fucking ask how we are, Claire. You put us in that room. You put your workers, your security guards and yourself in danger. You put Y/N in danger," at the mention of your name, you lift your head away from his chest and place a hand in its place. You could tell he was getting a little heated. Ever since you'd gotten together and started working with the raptors, he'd been extra-sensitive about your getting in harm's way.
"Speaking of security guards; the one that was with us in there? Yeah, his head's just making its way down the Indominus's digestive tract. So yeah, we're fuckin’ peachy."
Silence follows on the other end. Owen heaves out a sigh, as though reluctant to be having this conversation.
"Y/N and I are gonna make our way back to you. Keep an eye on that... thing. You need to keep it the hell away from your park guests, otherwise–" Owen pauses. Not a single one of you wanted to say, or even think, about what would happen, otherwise. He hangs up with a huff.
"C'mon, baby, let's get you outta here." He slides himself out from under the car as you begin to do the same, getting to your side just as you're about to get up. He dusts off your shirt, taking your face in his hands with the gentlest cradle.
"Are you okay?" he tilts your head from one side to another, looking for injuries, "Did it getcha? Scratches? Bruises? Does it hurt anywh–"
"I'm fine, Owen," placing your hands on his forearms, you bring his frantic movements to a stop, "this head might just fall off if you move it anymore, though." You try to joke.
He lets out a breath, "S'not funny, baby. I don't know how you're still laughing after that."
"I'm just tryna make you smile, love," you give him a gentle but reassuring grin, "no, but really, I'm okay. Promise. A few scratches, I think, but that was from the gravel."
"Besides," you start, "some 40-feet tall dinosaur could never lay a claw on me." You puff your chest out comically.
Owen laughs heartily. "You're somethin' else, y'know that? God, I dunno what I'd do without you. Too strong for your own good," he pauses briefly to entwine your hands, "c'mon, we still got a long way to go before we get to the control room. We'll take the bike, yeah?"
You let out a small 'mhm' in response, smiling up at him before he turns to lead you to where his motorbike was still, supernaturally, scratch-free except for the fact that it was turned to its side.
Owen turns back to give you one last smile before letting go to pick up and reposition his bike. You take those few seconds to let your smile drop as your mind and hands wander back to your stomach for the nth time that day. 
"C'mon, Y/N," he beckons you from the now upright bike, "you alright?" He seemed to notice your sudden change in expression.
"Yeah, I'm good," you bite your tongue, not wanting to add onto his currently growing list of worries, "Let's go."
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obxsummer · 4 years
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Heart of Gold // Half a Heart
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word count: 3.1k
warnings: physical violence, cursing, mentions of lack of nutrition
summary: days have passed since you went missing and the palace finally becomes aware of the situation on their hands. meanwhile, sarah stumbles upon a secret not well hidden and jj’s holding on to a necklace like his life depends on it.
a/n: yo this shit’s getting intense. sorry i forgot to post this a while ago oops
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--
JJ was panicking, he was full-on freaking out as he stood in your room with Kiara and Pope. He had only stepped away for a brief moment to ask for water for your trip and when he came back you were gone. Gone. Nowhere to be found. He tried to be subtle as he searched for you everywhere but you never turned up.
“It’s my fault,” He choked as he tugged at his hair in frustration. “I shouldn’t have left her! My job is literally to protect her and I failed!”
Kiara sat down on the bed and pulled him into a hug. “JJ, you didn’t know. It’s not your fault. You were asking for water. It’s not like you were goofing off and not paying attention.”
“She’s gone, Kie!” He cried. “Do you get that? I lost the princess. They’re going to kill me!”
The room went silent when the door creaked open. Three heads jerked in the direction of the entrance to let out identical sighs of relief when John B walked in. “What’s wrong?” He asked as he surveyed everyone’s expression. “Where’s Y/N?”
Kiara hugged the blond in her arms tighter when he whimpered at your name. Pope frowned at the sight before turning to the prince next to him. “Y/N’s missing. Someone took her.”
“What?” Shushes followed John B’s scream as Pope quickly slapped a hand over his mouth. “Sorry!” He apologized once he was free to talk. “What do you mean she’s missing?”
Kiara relayed the story since JJ wasn’t in the state to tell it again as he flopped against your bed. He felt so guilty. You trusted him with your life and when it came down to it, he failed you. Someone, with who knows what intentions, had gotten ahold of you and it was killing him that he could’ve stopped it.
“JJ. JJ!” The boy looked up at the sound of his name to see Pope kneeling in front of him. “Don’t dig yourself into a hole. We’re gonna find her. We’ll bring her home.”
“What do I tell Mom and Dad?” John B whispered the question on everyone’s mind. There were a couple ways this could go. They could try to keep it under wraps and see if they could bring you home before the palace went into panic or they told the King and Queen and suffered the consequences but received extra help in bringing you back.
JJ shook his head as he wiped the tears from his cheeks. “I have to tell them. They have to know.” He buried his head in his hands again as he let out a sigh, “They’re gonna kill me. I’m so fucking stupid.”
“JJ, it could’ve been anyone-”
“No! No, it couldn’t!” He stood up, all of his sadness replaced with anger as he threw his arms out in expression. “It was her! It was the one girl I swore on my life I would protect no matter what and she’s gone. They took the one person I actually loved more than anything and they ripped her right out of my hands.” His hands clenched into fists by his sides as he stared straight at the three people in front of me. He shook his head one last time before storming out of your room, leaving the rest of his friends behind to wonder what would happen if they didn’t get you back.
--
A rush of cold ran through your body when you finally woke up. You gagged on the water in your throat, blinking away tears from the sudden shock as you tried to get a grasp on your bearings. The room you were in was dark but clearly resembled a bedroom of the sort with a small bathroom as well. There was limited furniture and zero warmth to the enclosure, which your soaking wet clothes didn’t assist in warming you up. Your hands were bound behind you as you sat on an old wooden chair in the center of the room.
“There she is.”
You gasped at the voice, looking over to see two men standing at your side. You instantly recognized them and your heart sunk in fear. One of the boys near you was Prince Rafe from the adjacent Kook Kingdom, also known as Sarah’s brother. His partner, trusty royal guard Topper who shot first and asked questions never.
“Rafe,” You choked on the water in your throat as you addressed him. “What do you want?”
The prince smirked as he came to stand in front of you. His fingers gripped your jaw with a bruising pressure as you winced in pain. “You turned down my offer to be my queen. It’s a shame really, I was being quite generous but clearly, you weren’t leaving the Maybank boy behind anytime soon so I needed to take what I wanted. Evidently, he doesn’t care enough to pay attention because we pulled you right out of his grip without a blink of an eye, princess.”
He emphasized the title, having heard it from JJ’s mouth in the stables when they grabbed you. He knew it struck a chord within you. You clearly were a force to be reckoned with, but attack the right way and he could easily break you apart piece by piece.
“So, you think just because you kidnapped me that I’ll surrender and marry you?” You repeated as you looked at him, dumbfounded. You shook your head as you started laughing, “This is comical! You can’t force me to be your queen, Rafe! It’s not happening.”
His hand tangled in your hair as he pulled your head back agressively, straining your neck. You gasped at the sudden action, chest heaving as Rafe moved to stand inches away from your face. “Maybe not yet, but you will. I have a plan you know? Slowly break you down and get to see the truth behind those strong walls of yous. A couple of scratches and bruises never killed anybody, right?”
“Go to hell!” You shouted as you kicked your leg out, nailing him in the stomach. He recoiled in pain before slapping you across the cheek. You inhaled sharply at the sudden pain.
“You bitch!” He hissed before leaping forward, his hand squeezing your throat tightly as you choked for air. “I’ll end your life before you can even call for that pathetic blond boy, you hear me? Don’t cross me!”
You struggled to get air in your lungs when Rafe let go and stepped back, anger evident on his features. He continued to glare at you as he walked out the room, Topper following behind before the door slammed shut, locking you insde.
--
Back in the Pogue Kingdom, JJ was crumbling. He had finally mustered up enough strength to confront your parents on what happened with John B, Kiara, and Pope refusing to leave his side once he revealed that he was planning on telling them.
“Kids, good to see you,” Your mom greeted once the group walked in the throne room. “How are you all?”
John B spoke up first, his hand squeezing JJ’s shoulder in reassurance as he stood by his side. “Mom, Dad. Something’s happened.”
“Guards, you’re dismissed.” King John could clearly tell whatever happened was serious and wanted to be alone for whatever his son had to say. The group walked forward once the room was vacated. Your mom was off her seat in seconds, her husband at her side as they approached the four individuals standing before them.
“What’s going on? Where’s your sister?” Your mom, Mariah, never jumped to conclusions before stories were told, but she clearly was fearing for your safety with the expression on your brother’s face at the moment.
“We don’t know,” Kiara confessed as she gave them a sorrowful look.
King John shook his head. “What do you mean you don’t know?” His gaze snapped to the blond in the middle for answers. “JJ, what’s the meaning of this?”
“Your Majesty, I-” JJ began his explanation but was cut off as his friends came to his aid.
“It’s not JJ’s fault,” John B reassured as he stared at his parents. “He didn’t do anything wrong.”
Queen Mariah placed a hand on her son’s shoulder. “We’re not saying he did. JJ, honey, what happened?” Call it mother’s instinct, but she could tell each of the people in front of her was upset and although she was worried, she wasn’t about to tear them down more.
“We were out at the stables. She wanted to go riding today, so I was getting everything ready while she changed. I stepped away to ask for water for us to take and when I came back, she was gone,” JJ retold the story that had continuously flashed through his mind as he considered the possibilities at hand of what could’ve happened to you.
“Okay.” John B watched as his dad let out a deep breath, his mind no doubt running a million miles an hour. “I’m dismissing you guys from your duties until further notice. You can’t be working in a mindset like this. I’m going to round the guard up and inform them of what has happened. JJ,” He set a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “It’s going to be okay. We’re gonna bring her home.”
--
The concept of time was unknown as you spent hours upon hours locked up in the small room. You weren’t sure how long you had been here, but Rafe had eventually returned to free your wrists from behind you which allowed you to roam the area you were given. Water was limited, food was almost invisible on a day to day basis, and you were beginning to fear that you wouldn’t survive much longer.
Your heart ached as you thought of the people back home. JJ would no doubt be tearing himself to pieces over what had happened. Kiara would try to keep everyone’s heads up while Pope tried to find any clues or hints as to where you were. You never knew what to expect from your brother. He would obviously be concerned and worried, but he tended to observe and offer suggestions to others instead of conducting his own search. Rest assured, the whole palace would be looking for you.
Bruises and scabbed over cuts littered your skin thanks to Rafe’s misplaced aggression. Topper himself had gotten a few good licks in, the boys have zero regret for their injuries they inflicted on you. You were slowly becoming a shell of the person you used to be from their harsh words and unforgivable hands.
The sound of the door creaking open had you flinching in fear as you backed against the wall as far as possible and pulled your knees to your chest. You craved JJ’s soft, loving touch on your skin. He always knew what to do and how to hold you. He just had a sixth sense when it came to you. It was like he knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes.
“Y/N?”
You looked up at the quiet, femine voice that drastically contrasted the rough, deep ones you had become used to hearing. You came face to face with your brother’s girlfriend, Princess Sarah Cameron.
“Sarah!” You held back tears as you rushed to hug her tightly, craving a gentle, friendly touch. She hugged you tightly in shock that you were actually in front of her. She had no idea that you were missing, as she hadn’t been able to see John B due to a busy schedule these past few days.
“What is going on?” Sarah asked once she pulled away, her arms rested on your forearms as she held you at arm’s length. “Y/N, what happened to you?”
You shook your head as tears fell from your eyes. “I can’t believe you found me.”
She sat down on the small bed, motioning for you to do the same as she continued to observe your weak, broken state. “Found you? I didn’t even know you were missing. I… Y/N, who brought you here?”
“Rafe and Topper. I was getting ready to go riding with JJ and...and they showed up and the next thing I knew, I was in here.”
“Oh, my God,” She gasped in shock at the news of this being her brother’s plan. “I knew he was up to something. He’s been so harsh and snappy these past few days and I got suspicious so I followed him yesterday and saw him come down here. I had no idea, Y/N, I’m so sorry.” She hugged you again, letting you cry into her shoulder.
“You have to tell John B,” You cried as you let her hold you close, craving the physical comfort. “Sarah, I can’t do this much longer.”
She nodded as tears of her own started falling from her cheeks. “I will. I will. I’ll go right after this. I-I can’t let you out right now, Rafe was just up the stairs and he’ll know. But I promise I’ll bring you some food and water when I get back, okay? I promise.”
“Here.” You sat up and unclipped the necklace from your neck before setting it in her palm. “Give it to JB, tell him to give it to JJ, so they know I’m okay.”
Sarah gave you a sympathetic look before nodding and slipping out of the room as quietly as possible. You let out a small sob at the thought of being alone again, but with the necklace grasped tightly in Sarah’s palm, you knew you would be out of here soon.
--
It had taken a lot of convincing, but Kiara and Pope had managed to get JJ to fall asleep in your bed for the first time since you had left. He was beyond exhausted but didn’t want to give up in his search to find you. Their hearts broke as they watched him cry until his breath evened out and his eyes dried for the first time in days. They had never seen strong, tough JJ Maybank fall apart like this in all the years they’ve known him, and it hurt to watch knowing they couldn’t stop it.
“I figured it out,” John B announced as he pulled Kiara and Pope into the hallway. “I’ve set up a meeting with Sarah. It’ll be hard, considering I’m on literal lockdown while Mom and Dad want to keep everything under the radar and limit it to palace official awareness, but the more eyes we have out the better. Sarah might know something we don’t.”
Pope nodded in agreement. “That’s actually a good idea. When are you going?”
“Now,” John B rushed out before he glanced around the doorframe to see JJ asleep in your bed. “Don’t wake him up, don’t let him know where I went, don’t tell him anything. He’s already worried enough.”
“Aye-aye, captain.”
John B practically sprinted across the grass with a cap on his head and a large coat covering his body as he tried to hide his face. It was a challenge to get out of the palace now that everyone inside knew you were missing. They feared another royal could be taken any second and were taking every crazy precaution to ensure it didn’t happen.
“There you are,” Sarah called out as soon as she saw the boy approaching. She was playing with the necklace in her hand, a heavy feeling in her chest since she spoke to you.
The prince didn’t give her any time to talk and quickly began explaining. “Y/N’s missing. Someone took her a-and we don’t know what-”
“I know,” Sarah cut him off as she grabbed his arm lightly. “Rafe and Topper did. They shoved her in the old dungeon bedrooms. John B, I’m worried. I-I don’t think they’re feeding her much if at all and she just looks so small.”
“You saw her?” He choked on his words as gravity started to weigh him down. You were his little sister, one of his biggest priorities in life, and you really had been taken. Who knows what Rafe had done since he got you into his grasp. “You-You talked to her?”
Sarah nodded and held up the necklace to place in his palm. “She said to give this to JJ. I promise I’d take her back some food and water when I came back from meeting you. We’ll get her out, okay? We will.”
John B’s emotions finally got the best of him when he returned to the palace that night. He didn’t bother stopping to grab dinner and instead headed straight towards your bedroom where he hoped JJ was still sleeping. Opening the door, the blond was actually awake and blankly staring at the ceiling as he held your favorite blanket in his hand.
“JJ, give it back!” You whined as he held your fluffy gray blanket above his head and completely out of your reach.
“Oh, I’m sorry? Is this yours?” He lowered it for less than a second before holding it higher than before. “Come and get it, princess.”
You pouted as you tried to jump and grab the fabric from his hands but came up short. An idea popped in your mind as you moved forward, your fingers attacking his sides quickly as you tickled him.
“Stop!” JJ laughed as he brought his arms down to protect himself, finally giving you access to snag your beloved blanket back. You screamed as he jumped on you, both of you colliding with the mattress as he hugged you against him. “Why’s that your favorite anyway? You have so many big, soft blankets.”
Your cheeks went pink at his question as you pulled the blanket tighter between you. “Because it’s the one I always spray your cologne on when you’re not looking.”
“No wonder I keep going through that stuff like crazy! You little sneak!”
JJ finally rolled over to face his friend, eyes still red and puffy from his nonstop crying throughout the day. “Hey,” He greeted as he pushed himself up to sit. “Everything okay?”
“I… Sarah told me to give this to you.” John B was holding back his own tears as he placed the necklace in JJ’s palm. He sat down, no longer trusting his knees to support him. “Rafe took her, J. We have to make a plan and get her out of there.”
JJ looked at the jewelry in his hand, instantly noticing his birthstone on the dainty J necklace you always wore around your neck. Closing his fingers around it, he squeezed his palm tightly and pressed his lips against the object in hopes that miles away, you could feel his presence. “We’re coming, princess. I promise.”
-- 
tags (strike means it won’t let me tag you): @dpaccione @socialwriter @mimi-multifandomxo @bubblyglimmer
want to be tagged in the next part? send me a message
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iluvsexyvoltageguys · 5 years
Text
Cufflinks & Lace
Fandom: Mr. Love Queen’s Choice
Pairing: Victor x Reader
Warning: NSFW
He can't…This is…What even?!
He fumbles with the cufflinks but somehow the fabric got caught in the enclosure and it just won't budge. He pulls, wiggles, jerks at the metal, then the sleeve, his fingers shaking because he really, really has no patience for this right now, knowing you are waiting for him. Most likely scantily dressed at this point, all seductive, stretched out on the bed, and he's got to get this shirt off and…
"Taking you an unusually long time to get naked tonight…" your voice purrs behind him and his heart stutters in his chest, as it still does, always does when you are near him.
He sighs, trying to rip at the cufflink once more. "I can't get this opened, my fingers..."
You softly laugh but move closer, the warm length of your body pressed against his back as you wrap your arms around his torso, resting your palms on him. Your mouth brushes his neck. "I'm rather fond of your fingers…"
His knees buckle, actually buckle at your whispered voice in his ear, the myriad of images, memories that assault his brain at your words, the way your body writhed beneath him, back arched high, hips flying up when he moves, curling his fingers inside you, the feel of your wet warmth contracting, squeezing him tightly when you fall apart, open and trusting and so breathtakingly gorgeous.
You laugh again, your breath hot against his neck, knowing exactly what you do to him and then his mind goes completely blank when you tug his shirttails out of his pants and move your fingers to the lowest button. You flick it open, your knuckles grazing over the growing bulge in his pants and he groans, breathless, completely lost in you.
Your fingers dance higher, popping button after button on your way up, an agonizingly slow trail as you lightly caress each newly revealed patch of his skin with barely-there brushes of your fingertips. Your mouth open against his spine, you breathe over his shirt, each exhale spreading damp warmth across his skin beneath the fabric and his whole body flushes.
Reaching his collar, you undo the last button, slowly parting the fabric over his chest and pulling it off his broad shoulders. The shirt slides down his arms, getting stuck at the sleeves and fastened cufflinks but you leave it hanging there, your hands keeping busy instead, traveling over his chest, the sides of his stomach and coming together beneath his navel. Your touch so tender that his breath stammers in his lungs, his body humming beneath your fingertips.
You kiss his neck, over his shoulders, up and down his back, your tongue and teeth darting and nipping along his skin while your hands trail lower, and lower, teasingly over the ever growing bulge that is straining against the confines of his pants. He is on fire, aching for more of your touch, your kisses, the wet heat of your tongue and the caress of your body.
"______," he groans, your name a plea rushing from deep inside where he's yearning to be inside of you. He needs your bodies entwined tightly. But at the same time he wanted this sweet agony to never end.
"Hmmm…" you merely hum in response, the vibrations running along his spine while your nails lightly scratch across his abdomen, departing from his sex to wrap around his left wrist instead. Your fingers deftly and easily undo the cufflink, and he would be amazed at your skill if he was not already completely and blissfully aware of just how clever your fingers are. Your arm reaches out and you drop the cuff link into the empty drawe, and his heart leaps against his chest, wanting nothing more than to twirl you around and into his arms, kiss you long and deep and intense until you make that humming sound in the back of your throat and your whole body melts into his touch.
The shirt falls, hanging on him only by the evil, magical cufflink that started all of this but you do not touch it. Instead you nuzzle his neck, your lips a hot path along the heated skin before you nip at his earlobe, running your tongue around it.
"This might come in handy later," you tease, tugging at the sleeve that holds his right arm captive and his eyes roll back in his head when your lips and tongue slick down his back and your hand reaches around and cups him, flirting with his hard cock through the fabric of his trousers. Your touch is tender but teasing, a flick of your index finger across his tip has the blood rushing through his veins, centers heat in his core. You make quick work of his belt buckle, then you flip open the button on his pants and unhurriedly slide down the zipper, each pop of the metal vibrating against him, leaving him wanting with need.
Your mouth caresses his lower back, your tongue teasing the line where his skin meets his boxers, a slick wet trail before you blow on it and the cool air makes him shiver, goose bumps climbing over his hips. You grip your fingers around the waistbands of his pants and boxers, pulling them down his hips and his legs, your lips following the newly exposed path of skin. You kiss down his butt cheeks, his thighs, twirling your tongue behind his knee and he almost stumbles forward at the assault of sensations.
This is the most erotic way he's ever been undressed and he can barely take any more of the teasing, and yet he never wants it to end, the meticulous attention you pay to his body, to him; the way you love him, so fully and freely, the passion and intensity and pure joy.
Kneeling at his back you help him out of shoes and socks, throwing his pants and boxers to the side before you glide back up his body, mouth and tongue and fingers stroking, licking, nipping his calves and the back of his knees, over the muscles in his thighs and the curve of his ass, lower back, his sides and shoulders until you’re back at his neck, your breath fanning hot and fast against the edge of his jaw. He is shaky, burning up, completely naked and at your mercy, the rosy flush to his skin and his straining erection.
You tug at the fabric bunched around his right wrist, startling him out of his stunned, amazed reverie as you pull him along by that sleeve. “You coming, Victor?” You murmur, the lilt in your voice matching the teasing arch of your eyebrow as you throw him a glance over your shoulder.
He stumbles after you, his eyes widening at the sight of you, the lacy, red bra strap that crosses beneath your shoulder blades, soft strips of fabric that caress your hips and the tiny lace triangle that disappears between your ass cheeks. His mouth runs dry, his voice hoarse when he tries to find words. “Pretty soon if you keep that up.”
You laugh throatily, whirling him around by his shirt and pushing him down onto the bed. He falls willingly because there's nothing sexier than his woman taking charge. He loves your spirit, loves the mix of sensual domination with your sweet shyness. He loves how you’re so open with him, free to be all that you are, raw and vulnerable, fierce and fiery.
Swinging a leg over his hips you straddle him, leaning over his mouth. "Not yet, I've still got plans for you," you murmur against his lips, your breath hot on his face before you kiss him, once, twice, nipping at his bottom lip.
"Have you been wearing these all day?" He chases your mouth, his tongue gliding inside when your lips part on a gasp, playing with yours while his fingers tug at the soft lace that drapes over your hip. Your hips press lower when he teases his fingertips over the sensitive dip of skin beneath the bone, your thighs contracting, gripping him tighter.
You catch his wandering hand, raising it above his head, your eyes flashing in dark arousal. "That's for me to know…" You slide yourself higher, the heat of you settling over his tensed stomach as you reach for the shirt still fastened to his arm - and tie it to the headboard. He groans, his body straining for you in heightened anticipation while you grasp for his left wrist and tie the other sleeve around, tethering his arms together with a soft knot.
Your breasts swing enticingly over his face as you work and he captures one lace-clad nipple, sucking it into his mouth, pressing his tongue against the puckered flesh that strains against the fabric. You whimper, clamping your fingers around the headboard to hang on, giving yourself over to his touch for a moment. He nips with his teeth, sucks vigorously, twirls his tongue around and around until throaty moans burst from your mouth and your body flushes with wet heat that coats his stomach.
You pull out of his reach, settling your body lower, right atop his hips where he strains, hungers for you and he can't stop staring at you. You hold him completely in the palm of your hand, and yet he trusts you like he's never trusted anybody else. He knows you would never use him or try to control him, would never abuse the power you hold over him. You’re smiling down at him, pleased with yourself but it's warm and soft and so happy that it aches, leaving him shivering beneath you, the rush of love he feels for you overpowering in its intensity.
“You are magnificent,” he stutters the words that overwhelm his brain and you tilt your head, your eyelids lowering shyly. He wants to kiss you, craves the softness of your lips, the hot curl of your tongue. He wants to trail his fingers over your silky skin, needs to feel your warmth and softness, but he can’t move, can’t pull you forward. “_____,” he pleads, begs, his hips jerking up into you.
You fall forward on a fluttery moan, curling your fingers through his soft hair and then you kiss him, deep and full of longing, your tongue curling around his, a hot hungry battle. He groans into your mouth, nipping at your lips before he delves once more into the cavern of your mouth, your flavor sweet on his tongue. You’re breathless when you pull away, your palms pressed to his chest as you rise. You lean over to reach your nightstand before you settle down onto his hips, a chocolate covered strawberry held between your fingertips and he's no longer sure he is going to survive this night.
You offer him the strawberry, sliding its chilled tip along his bottom lip until he opens his mouth and you push it inside. He bites down, the juicy, fresh flavor exploding in his mouth, mingling with the sweetness of the chocolate before your lips cover his, capturing the rest of the fruit and the juice coating his lips with a flick of your tongue.
He swallows his bite and slides his tongue deeply into your mouth, its surface chilled from the fruit and tasting like strawberries and chocolate, kissing you deeply, wildly, craving you so intensely that the blood rushes in his ears, his veins, his skin on fire from the top of his head down to his toes. You moan, whimpering against his lips, your hips undulating over his, completely unrestrained in your need but then you pull away yet again and he almost cries at the loss.
You grab another strawberry, this time trailing the cold fruit down the length of his neck, and goose bumps rise along his skin where the chill hits the heat of his body. You’re watching him closely, taking in every reaction as you dance the strawberry over his collarbone, swirling it in haphazard patterns over his chest and around his nipples, the clash of hot and cold sensations leaving him groaning, writhing beneath you.
The warmth of his skin leaves a line of chocolate behind wherever you dragged the fruit, and you lean over his chest, lapping up the sweet path with your tongue, a hot wet swirl all over his chest and he groans breathlessly, his need for you growing, your name a desperate plea on his lips.
You pick up the strawberry with your teeth, offering him the other half with your mouth in a playful kiss until juice trickles down his chin. "_____, please," he moans when you lick the sweet strawberry essence off his jaw, his fingers clamped around the constraints of his shirt, nails digging into the fabric, his abdomen taut with the forceful clench of restraint. He feels your smile stretch against his jawline, feels everything with such heightened intensity that it's almost unbearable and yet he desperately hungers for more.
"Almost there," you murmur mischievously and then there's another strawberry winding its path over his stomach, around his navel, over his hips and dipping toward his cock before your tongue follows the trail, lapping and licking, and he's gasping, moaning, all his blood rushing south, his insides clenching with suppressed, wild need. And then your lips wrap around his tip, your mouth still chilled from the strawberry, a sharp contrast to the heat of his body and he can barely constrain his hips from roughly jolting up into you.
Your lips, your mouth, your tongue teases and strokes and caresses, and it's both tender and so unbelievably intense that he feels like he's breaking out of his skin. Words tumble from his lips, incomprehensible sounds even to him yet you seem to understand because you let him go, and rise above him instead.
You are so breathtakingly beautiful, proud and stunning like a goddess, even this scantily clad. The scraps of lacy underwear hide almost nothing, your nipples straining against the see-through fabric of the red, strapless bra and he wants to touch and taste and feel, needs more, all of you, everything.
"I need you _____," he pleads. The only words he can press out in his breathless, helpless state of arousal. "I want you so much."
Your eyes shimmer darkly; pupils wide and your cheeks flushed pink, your desire mirroring his in intensity. You rise to your knees, sliding the flimsy lace of your panties out of the way before you wrap your hand around his length, teasing his tip through the slick wetness of your folds. His eyes slam shut at the feel of your heat, head tilted back in stunned torment.
"Victor…" You call for him, voice roughened with desire and it's a struggle to get his eyes to open. “Watch…” you instruct when your eyes meet and you hold his gaze, stroking yourself with his tip. “Watch us.” And you take him inside, sinking down over his hard cock, and he groans when the warm wetness of your body wraps around him like a snug glove; a fluttering, searing caress. Your hips meet and your head falls back in delight, your body gripping him tightly.
For one breathless moment you still, the flutter of your pussy the only movement as you melt together, and he breathes and feels your body around him, the weight of your hips pressed over his, the balance and strength of your slender body above him.
And then you move, slowly at first, sliding almost all the way off him before you sink back down, rotating your hips against his hips with each downward stroke, and he won't last long if you keep that up, already so far gone from the extended tease of your foreplay. His hips shake with suppressed need and on your next slide down he slams himself up into you, reaching you deeply and your back arches, a dark moan tearing from deep within your chest.
He repeats the move and your rhythm gets faster, hips undulating in a wild pattern that has him seeing stars. Your fingers slide between your legs, over you swollen clit and he almost can't hold back at the sight, groaning roughly as his head falls back against the pillow. His arms strain and he growls, fighting against the knots that bind him to the headboard, desperately needing to touch you, feel your skin, your warmth beneath his hands.
You still, sliding off him before you crawl over his chest, your fingers making quick work of the knotted shirt until the bindings loosen around his wrists. He wraps his lips around your other nipple this time, sucking and teasing until his arms are free and you are whimpering above him. You can barely keep yourself upright.
He rises with you when he's freed, sitting in the middle of the bed, the shirt still awkwardly dangling from his wrist but he barely notices as you settle into his lap, taking him inside once more, your wet, pulsing heat calling him home. You wrap your legs around him, your arms laced around his neck as his cradle you back, holding you tightly to him, slick skin to slick skin, the lace of your bra rasping against his chest.
You circle your hips with every thrust of his hips into you, your movements confined and slow, and so intense that you cry out each time he drives deeper inside you, your eyes fluttering closed, your stomach muscles quivering with your impending orgasm. He's deep within you, aching and yearning, ready with you and come on, ____, come on, let it go.
You gasp roughly when you fall apart, your back arched, head thrown back, your legs clenched around him, mirroring your inner muscles that contract and tremble over his throbbing cock, your body shudders. The convulsions of your heat around him throws him over the edge, white stars flaring brightly behind his eyelids as his whole body contracts, muscles and limbs quaking, trembling within and around you until he falls backwards onto the bed, limp and spent, cradling you tightly to him. You’re gasping for breath, your body draped slick and boneless over his.
He runs his fingers through your messy hair, lovingly brushing the damp strands off your forehead. You are his. His amazing, gorgeous, utterly sexy, sweet, loving Queen. His. And his alone.
MLQC Masterlist
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hiddendreamer67 · 5 years
Text
Tiny Mer!Sanders Angst pt. 7
Part 7 to a story based on @secretglittersauce‘s tiny mer!sides angst prompt. Logan gets re-homed, and we meet some new characters.
  Check my reblog for links to the previous parts.
“Eat up, little guy.” Elliot encouraged as he sprinkled a few flakes of generic fish food into the bowl. “Today’s the big day.”
Logan glared up at the flakes, watching them all collect in a soggy pile as they floated lazily about the surface. He could hardly stomach the artificial nutrience pellets, let alone this textureless attempt at sustenance. It almost made him miss the pet store food. Of course, the thought of his brothers made him miss the pet store even more. But would they even be there if Logan returned? Roman and Patton had already been sold. Surely Virgil was soon to follow.
Not to mention, with every passing day Logan found his chances of getting back growing slimmer and slimmer. Though he thrashed about and made a mess just like his previous abodes, this human didn’t seem to mind. He would clean up any messes that Logan managed to make and had quickly learned to keep anything of value far away from Logan’s enclosure. Elliot also learned to keep the tank covered, after finding out about Logan’s penchant for removing every single pebble from the bottom of the tank and chucking them out. (That had been quite a surprise for Elliot to wake up to the second morning, the purple and blue pebbles scattered all over his carpet.)
After close examination of his captor, it was clear to Logan why this human was willing to put up with such behavior. Elliot did not intend on keeping Logan; rather, Logan was meant to be a gift to another human. Certainly that was what Elliot meant when he indicated that today was special. Despite himself, Logan actually was relieved to hear he would be transfering humans. It might bring him further from his connection to the pet store, but at least Logan had a better shot of escaping a human less patient than Elliot.
Later that evening, Logan’s assumptions were confirmed. His entire tank was placed into a cardboard box, hiding the mer’s view of the world as the water sloshed about due to human movements. The rest was a blur- jostling, the familiar hum of a car engine, a strange scratching sound- and then Logan found himself looking up at a new human. This one had spectacles perched upon his nose, and looked far more professional than Logan’s last owner.
“Oh, Elliot!” Picani stared down the bridge of his nose, quite surprised to see the sight before him. “I...I must admit, of all the birthday gifts I have received from past patients, this is certainly the most...unique.”
“Well I wanted it to be something special.” Elliot explained. “You’ve helped me so much, and I know you really like that fish movie...”
“Ah, yes, Finding Nemo.” Dr. Picani was quick to paste on a smile, not wanting to seem ungrateful. “A Fin-tastic tale, if I do say so myself.” Elliot gave a mix between a groan and a chuckle.
Picani looked down at the mer in the bowl, who seemed to be acting disinterested as it sat in the corner with its arms crossed. However, Picani noticed that it kept sending him sideways glances. Picani had to admit he was insatiably curious. What was this strange creature? Where did it come from?
“Here’s the rest of the mer stuff.” Elliot explained, handing over another box. “This is his food, but...he hasn’t eaten much of it.”  Instantly Picani grew concerned, and Elliot was quick to continue. “But! If anyone can help him get better, I’m sure you can!”
“I’m a therapist, not a doctor.” Dr. Picani reminded him. “But this certainly could be due to some sort of behavioral trait rather than a physical illness. Don’t worry, I will be sure to care for him to the best of my ability!”
Despite what he said, Picani wasn’t so sure as he waved goodbye to Elliot. He knew nothing about this sort of creature. What could a tiny mer person be upset about? A change in environment? A lack of companionship?
Logan steadied himself, his environment shifting as the human set the bowl upon the coffee table.
“What are you thinking?” Picani murmured, trying to understand what he was dealing with. “Are you okay, little guy?”
“Hardly.” Logan glared at him. “This situation is far from ideal.” Logan swam up to the top of the tank, flipping his tail up to splash water in Picani’s face.
“Oh!” Picani quickly sat back, dodging the majority of the attack. He wiped at his glasses, a few droplets of water having hit the lenses. “Oh, no, don’t do that.”
“Why do all you humans think I would adhere to such basic commands?” Logan rolled his eyes. The mer set to work, wanting to make up for lost time. Spotting a set of books near his bowl, Logan changed targets and splashed at those. With a cry Picani dove to protect his texts. Now distracted, Picani was vulnerable to Logan’s flying projectiles.
“Ow!” Picani winced, feeling a tiny yet sharp pebble hit him in the side of his forehead. He quickly grabbed up the books, leaning back to escape the line of fire.
Picani frowned, watching the mer swirl about the water in the bowl as it quickly began to rip up the foliage and decorations. Picani reached in to quickly remove any sharp objects from the container, not wanting the mer to hurt himself, but had to remove his hand when it tried to directly attack him.
“...why are you so hostile?” Picani asked quietly. This certainly didn’t seem like a predatory species of fish, yet it seemed to hold quite a vendetta against humans. The mer answered in that same strange series of clicks:
“Because you are ripping apart everything I love.”
Picani stared at the creature, eyes slowly widening in realization. Did...did the tiny mer understand him? Was it attempting to communicate? It certainly reminded Picani of the way his cats sometimes talked back to him in their own cat language.
“Meow?”
“Stitch!” Picani turned around, smiling at one of his three felines. What perfect timing. “How ya doing, lil guy?”
The sounds in the tank came to an instant standstill. Logan stood frozen, staring back at the predator that had just appeared in the doorway. The blue eyed feline tilted its head, the two creatures caught in a staring match.
Picani’s smile faded, realizing that this could quickly turn into a problem. “Okay, c’mere~” Picani picked Stitch up, earning a meowl of protest as he stopped the cat from prowling forwards. Picani stepped closer to the bowl, holding Stitch aloft and facing the tank. The mer immediately swam away, pressing his back against the curved glass wall.
“Keep that monster away from me!” Logan’s voice shook slightly, intimidated by the hungry gaze of the giant furry beast that was being brought closer.
“It’s okay, we’re all a family here.” Picani explained, looking back and forth between them. He crouched down, putting the two at eye level. “Stitch, fish are friends, not food.” The creature hissed, showing off its fangs. This close, Logan could also make out its razor claws, pawing in his direction as if eager to get a piece of him.
Though Logan might be able to understand Picani, it was clear this cat did not possess the same level of consciousness. All at once Stitch made an unprompted motion, attempting to leap from Picani’s arms and into the bowl. Logan let out a small scream, watching a single claw dip into the water and create ripples throughout the surface.
“NO!” Picani scrambled to readjust his grip, pulling Stitch close to his chest and firmly preventing any other attempts to harm the blue mer. Picani panted, startled by the slight scare. Perhaps things would be more difficult than he thought.
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eureka-its-zico · 5 years
Text
Pricked Pt. 4
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
Scenario: You and Mino have been together since you were eighteen years old. You’ve been through so much together, but time changed who you both were, what you both wanted and, ultimately, it ended. It ended once, twice, and a million times after. Each time fate somehow bringing you back to one another; but how cruel could fate really be? For with every time you crashed back into one another, you felt pieces’ fray and rip at the seams; pricked by love thrones that never healed.
A/N: Okay.Admit it. How many of you thought this would never get finished? It’s finally happened. I finished Pricked. Over time, I received countless private messages and anonymous asks about finishing this. I’m sorry it took over two years for me to get back into writing. I’m sorry it took so long, you guys. But, my sincerest hope is that after reading this, it all feels worth it. I appreciate the countless support for my fiction. For the continous shares and likes while I’ve been away. You all helped remind me why I started writing in the first place: for the love of telling a story. I hope you love this one. Much Love, Jenn.
Genre: Mino x Reader
Words: 5850
Disclaimer: As always, any gifs that are used are not mine and all credit is given to their rightful owners. 
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It was almost comical how a room that felt so big became hauntingly small. The echoes of his last words etching themselves in your bones until they ached where you sat. Immobile, like a frightened child that hears the creaking sounds of old stairs; threatening to make your heart leap at the thought of old monsters.
Mino couldn’t have meant it. Just like you knew, without a doubt, you were only pretending to be self-righteous. To care about an unnamed woman who should’ve never taken your place to begin with: a poor man’s replacement. A replacement you yourself tried to make of him. The whole reason you showed up here, now,  was to force him to choose you. Or else what had been the whole point of the large affair you’d created, if it wasn’t to lead to an end that favored you both. 
But this was where your self-righteousness ended. 
In the distance your ears could hear the shower running. You knew Mino was undoubtedly undressed on the other side of the door. His last words a farewell forever: a painful dismissal. 
How could you blame him? When your lips failed to move and voice refused to work. Because that self-righteousness flared back up and made you believe you could do the right thing. 
What was right? 
What could be right about losing him, and spending the rest of your life with the maybe’s and what if’s. All you needed to say was what you’d wanted, and allowed, the selfishness that rained over the past year to win. Because honestly, why did you decide now of all times to act so holy? You wanted to do the right thing, regardless of it being too little too late. To believe that self-sacrifice, being a martyr, would be enough to forgive yourself for choosing to hurt so many. 
But you were done falling on swords. Done playing games. If you didn’t tell him now, right the fuck now, that you couldn’t live with the idea of him waking up besides the wrong woman every morning, not you, some stranger who only saw what she wanted, knew nothing about how he used to hide his favorite snacks under pillows during his first year of training, and bleached his hair so badly it left his head raw for days. How he ruined so many school shirts with stains of ink from broken pens that drove his mother into an annoyed rant. She knew nothing of his past. What made him. She only knew what he chose to show her like a carefully wrapped present. But you - you knew all. Past and present. You wanted to know who he became in the future. To see the version of yourself he talked about with confidence reflecting in his eyes.
You knew, deep down, underneath the claustrophobic hands of fear, that you could be better for each other. There would be no more running. No more imaginative ‘What If’s’, to keep you at bay. 
You weren’t surprised to find your feet already guiding you towards the door of the bathroom. Your heart already knew where it was trying to go: it had just been waiting for your mind to catch up. And somehow, after all that mental pep talk, you still found your hand hovering above the knob. 
“No more caving,” you whispered. “I’m doing this.”
Without another moment spared to thought your hand closed around the knob and turned.Whether you were conscious of it or not, you were holding your breath. As if you would find something other than Mino’s naked body on the other side. 
Immediately, your body was engulfed by a hot breath of steam. The mirror fogged up to hide your reflection, and condensation dripped  from every surface. If the shower wasn’t strategically placed in the middle you were sure you could’ve gotten lost in the large high-end expanse of the bathroom. The showers glass enclosure covered a majority of the room and offered no privacy. Your eyes able to roam over every available inch of flesh that it left exposed, and you drank in the sight of Mino greedily. 
Even slumped with his hands splayed out against the patterned granite - body being drenched every second in a heavy flow of water - Mino was still able to command the room. Although, you knew by the heavy sigh between his shoulders that he was a man in mourning. A dull ache wormed its way inside your chest and threatened to bloom, but a memory batted it away. 
It was the beginning of spring; months after you’d begun your secret affair. Both of you pretending it was just something simple as convenience. A past history of being first loves and promises of fairy tale ever-afters allowing you the false ideal it would be over once either of you had your fill. 
You could see now, caressed in a fog of steam, what a lie it was. 
That day the humidity had been worse than the heat. It ended up like that a lot during the peaking days of summer. The two of you finding solace in the new studio Mino rented out; a private, safe place for his artistic ideas to flourish and die in a privacy only he knew. 
He’d rung you to come by. Mino’s voice tempting your body already with the sweetness of kisses and a promise of that honeyed voice that was held between those lips kissing its way between your thighs. You didn’t need much prodding after that.  Your fingers already on an app to hail the nearest driver. 
You’d arrived minutes before he’d asked, and found him surrounded by splattered canvases. A majority of them thrown to the ground, like an island of misfits. Mino was already working on a newer canvas, but the frustration radiated off of him and hit you in waves. You could see it in the way his teeth dug themselves into the wood of his brush, and the large strokes of his fingers, covered in paint, across the canvas. You could’ve sworn you could hear the brush beginning to snap under the pressure. 
Mino had always been this way. His drive for perfection charging his artistic nature, usually with him being completely unaware. He was in such a trance focusing on his work that he hadn’t paid any kind of acknowledgment to your entry. All Mino could see was the canvas before him and the irritating fact it wasn’t coming out like he’d wanted. 
You were more than ninety-nine percent sure if this had been anyone else, you would’ve been annoyed at not being acknowledged. But here in his artistic heaven you were just fine being ignored. It left you plenty of time to gawk at the mosaic piece that covered an enormous section of a wall. The bright pieces coming into the colorful shape of a cartoon man holding a wilting flower. The petals somehow becoming larger until they landed on the ground at his feet. The back wall displaying a dozen or so paintings. The theme of them all painstakingly the same. 
In one various arrays of color, he had the facial outlines of a man and a woman. You could only assume by the way the woman’s face was comforted and the way the lips of the man drew near to caress her lips, that it was a painting with the image of intimacy in mind. That feeling of intimacy causing your cheeks to flush and a yearning to be touched. Another showcased a couple outlined in white against the charcoal of the canvas. There were stars small as speckled dust that told you he’d brushed a single finger through the hair to obtain the effect. The longer you looked at it a stirring feeling of recognition began to ache in the back of your mind.
“It’s that night we spent by the Hongdae river.” 
Mino’s voice cut through your thoughts and brought you clarity. Your eyes barely shifting to acknowledge his body turned in your direction, before looking back at the painting. It seemed the second he mentioned it everything about it began to make sense. 
It was the moment he’d caught your gaze stuck to the bright sky. So bright and full of endless possibilities. 
“Do you remember what you asked me?” He questioned.
You didn’t even need to consider the thousands of possibilities. You already knew.
“Do you ever wonder if the stars miss each other. Millions of them are in the sky. You would think with so many, they would be close to one another, yet they’re so far apart.”
It wasn’t until your eyes took in the shape of dying dust behind a falling star that you finally turned to look at Mino. Your full attention on dried paint that scattered itself on his hands and arms; splattered in rainbow hues all over his shirt and pants. He resembled a piece of art himself, housed inside a room you realized held painted moments of past times together, and more recent. Through this act of whatever it was you’d both created, Mino made something beautiful out of it. He made something beautiful out of you. 
Looking at him now...you knew, Mino would forever stay a work of art that would take your breath away. And in that realization, your mind only came up with one solution to end his creative slump he currently found himself in. 
You didn’t think twice before your hands found the hem of your shirt and began to lift it over your head. Mino’s eyes widened slightly; no doubt enjoying the unexpected show you put on. 
“You’re having trouble painting today.”
It wasn’t a question. You didn’t need an answer, but Mino’s mind wasn’t truly listening to you. It followed his eyes as they watched your hand loop around your back and undo the clasp on your bra. 
“I’ve actually been unable to draw - paint - anything. No matter where I go or what I draw, it never comes out right.”
You were stepping out of your shorts when you nodded in acknowledgement. As the last article of clothing fell to the floor, you were left exposed, in all your glory. For some reason, as ridiculous as it sounded, being naked in front of Mino this way sent your nerves into overdrive. It took everything you had not to begin to fidget with your hands. 
“Y/N, what are you doing?”
“Use me.” 
You blurted it out so harshly it caused Mino to jump. This time you did close your eyes as the embarrassment began to burn against your cheeks. 
“Use you?”
By now, Mino was slowly moving towards you. The playful tilt of a smirk drawing up the side of his mouth as his eyes took you in. He radiated a heat that sent your body trembling; not in a bad way. No, no. Far from that. It was an undeniable urge for him to touch you. For his hands to leave burning trials of his exploration of your body on every inch of your skin. 
You had to swallow twice to be able to speak. 
“Yeah. Use me as your canvas. Paint on me and see if this helps break you out of your creative slump.”
That appeared to stop him cold. His feet no longer coyly bringing him towards you and the smirk now drawn in a thoughtful pout. The first real hint of fear hit your tongue and you tried to swallow it away. You hadn’t considered the fact Mino might call your idea ridiculous and, perhaps, stupid. You were about ready to tell him never mind when his hand motioned for you to move next to the canvas and paints he’s been working on previously. 
“Come lay over here.”
You couldn’t reply. Your head giving a curt nod in response as he moved to grab a blanket. It wasn’t the length of your body, but just enough to cover your more...precious parts from the dirt of the floor. Once it was laid in place, you moved to lie down and waited patiently for him to spread his paints out on the tray. Your mind going to counting sheep to pass the time. Around sixty-seven, a gasp of surprise from the cold of the brush against your skin. 
“Babo!” You shrieked. 
Your hand shot out to smack his arm, which only awarded you with the deep bass of his laugh. 
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“Should I have warned you?” He asked playfully.
“Duh!” 
“Okay, okay. Lie back down and be ready this time, eh.”
You wanted to smack him again and it sent him into more hysterics. You did what he asked though and laid back with your arms out by your sides. 
“I’m gonna move the arm closest to me, alright.”
“Why are you telling me?”
“I’m letting you know so you don’t smack me again.”
This time you chuckled to yourself as his hands took gentle hold of your arm and moved it into place. A few moments later the coldness of the brush touched down on your skin. You didn’t jump this time. 
You couldn’t tell how long you laid there. Mino moving around different points of your body; spreading different colors along your torso, down your legs, and under your breasts. The two of you making light conversation as he worked, until after a while he informed you he was finished. You were ready to move, but your body was heavy with relaxation and you settled on wiggling your toes. 
The sound of a Polaroid camera going off shot your attention back in Mino’s direction. His fingers snaking around to drag the film gently the rest of the way out. 
“You better not show anyone.”
Mino gave you a cynical glance over the side of the camera before snapping on more. 
“Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N. I wouldn’t share you with anyone: not even as artwork. I just want to save these.” Mino set down the Polaroid and gave the two photos a couple last good shakes before he set them gently down. You began to get up when he knelt beside you, stopping your movements completely. “Y/N, I mean this more than anything. I think this is the best art I’ve made in a long time. What we’ve created together today.”
The compliment sent your lips into a humbled smile that you did your best to hide, but Mino refused to let you. 
“Mino-ah, I did nothing.”
“There you are wrong.”
He didn’t allow you to argue further: his lips crashed down on yours. His body collapsing against yours and hands moving in a heated rush to remove his clothes. You weren’t surprised to find your own helping. The two of you soon making love in a flurry of still wet paint that helped to create a new work of art against the studio floor. 
With the memory fading away, and leaving you to stand back inside the bathroom and Mino a few feet away, it filled you with renewed resolve. What did it matter if you hadn’t graduated from college yet. If you didn’t know a major to stick with, and you worked like a majority of everyone else in customer service jobs and not a giant firm. That your apartment wasn’t in an established part of Seoul. 
You were every bit as good for Mino. Hell, you were the right person for him. You knew that more than anything, and you refused to feel any less unworthy anymore. Without waiting another second to allow doubt to stop you, you reached out and took hold of the shower door and opened it to step inside. Mino turned at your entrance with alarm spread clear on his face and raised eyebrows. After his panic subsided, recognition began to lower his shoulders and formed a question in his brow. 
“Y/N,” he started huskily, “What are you-“
You didn’t give him a chance to finish. Using the momentum you gained from entering the shower you pushed into him. The warm water from the shower drenching you both as you wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him to you. Your lips pressing against his the only answer that you needed to give. 
Mino matched your desire with his own. His mouth opening yours up to him allowing him to drink down every moan he could elicit from you. When pushed to move you back against the wall of the shower, you gave no protest. The need every placement of his hands made coursed through you and sparked like an electric current. Every tug on soaked fabric and delicate graze of teeth skimming down lips until a tongue lashed up to soothe it's haunting ache. Underneath the basic carnal need that plagued your body for Mino’s touch - his touch alone - you knew it was something deeper. 
The idea of soulmates and fate seemed  like a fairytale of pleasant dreams meant to keep the boogeyman of life at bay. That there was some hope of a Disney ending, definitely not G-rated, far from PG, but still somehow attainable in life. The thought alone used to be enough to make you roll your eyes. In the end, you couldn’t allow your cynicism tarnish the truth you knew was true between you two. 
How could you deny the power of the universe when the cosmos rested solely in his lips? The way his name was written in stars along your skin. For fate to align itself over and over until you stood face-to-face wrapped in each others arms in a tangled connection that refused to make sense.
There had to be a reason for all this chaos.
Mino and you were swollen lips and ragged breaths. His naked body pressed against your soaked clothes stirred a desire to finish what you’d started in the other room. Mino, apparently, hadn’t shared the same sentiment. His lips suddenly breaking free of yours only to lead you in a daze from out of the shower. 
When you came back into the room, he didn’t bother with a towel. Instead, Mino opted to struggle his wet appendages into the legs of his jeans. He gave small hops of hope that he used to wedge the fabric up his hips. The whole ordeal already making you fight back the rising fit of giggles, only to end up as a losing battle. The shoulders of his t-shirt becoming trapped around his head; face peeking out through the open collar enough to look ridiculous, and finally broke you down into hysterics.  
When Mino finally was able to get his shirt comfortably on he walked over to where you’d collapsed onto the bed. You were soaked and the sporadic dry patches on your jeans were annoying. Your body still vibrating from your earlier outburst and you watched as he moved to kneel beside you. Not caring that both of you resembled drowned rats. Mino reached out to calmly take both of your hands. The angle he was at giving you perfect clarity of his face. Perfect enough to be able to see a decision rapidly being made in the softness of his eyes.
“This is gonna sound nuts.”
You reached out to cradle his cheek in your palm. Your thumb rubbing lightly to try and calm the storm of emotions that whipped his eyes frantically back and forth searching your face. 
“Mino, this whole year has been crazy. I don’t think anything you could say would surprise me.”
“Marry me.”
Okay. You were wrong. His outburst did surprise you. Your body went still in front of him and your thumb no longer grazed against his lips. You were going into shock and he was taking your silence as denial. 
“I mean, I know it’s stupid. It’s a stupid idea, Y/N, and you deserve a better proposal than this, but I don’t want to waste another moment without you and-“
He was rambling. The both of you knew he was and only because the room swelled with the panic of finality you both felt. That terrible chance that if either of you stepped out of the room, whatever spell of courage happened between you both would end. You could see the pleading in his eyes and could only think of doing one sure fire way to bring his frantic speech to a close. You took his face in yours and gave him one good kiss. When you pulled back he was stuck in place looking for all the world like a wound up doll who’d run out of juice. 
“To answer your question, Mino: yes.”
It took his ears a second to register what you’d said, but the minute he heard it Mino broke into a smile so big you couldn’t help but smile back. He rushed to close the small space between you and wrapped his arms with a constrictors grip around you. Only pulling back to kiss you rapidly all over your face raising giggles from your throat. 
“Yes? Yes! She said yes!”
“Ya, Mino,” you chided playfully. “You act like someone is going to hear you.”
“I don’t need anyone to hear me. All I needed to hear was your answer. Come on,” he urged rushing to grab both of your jackets. “I know somewhere that’s still open that they’ll do the ceremony right now.”
Your heart was pounding in your chest as you moved hand-in-hand to the front door. This was it. You were on your way to get married. Nothing and yet, everything was about to change. Mino shot you one last smile over his shoulder before he ripped open the door. The both of you coming to a halt in front of the woman, closed fist raised to knock, frozen in shock before you. 
You didn’t need Mino to tell you who she was. By the way her face crumbled like all the cheated souls before her, you knew this was his fiance. The look of pain replaced itself with something much colder and harder. The anger coming in waves to steel herself against the pain you no doubt swimming inside her like a monsoon. 
“How long?”
Her voice trembled in a way that would have made anyone consider it to be sadness. Anyone else, besides you. You knew it was simply the sound of her choking back on a heartbroken rage cocktail that was brewing deep in her chest. Her tears scolding while the judgement her eyes held a very clear hatred for you. Her world slowly falling apart as she drank you both in. Clothes still clinging to your body like a second skin with both lips puffy and red from each other’s kisses. Her world was collapsing into ruin in quiet milliseconds of betrayal before her.
Mino finally let go of your hand and stepped towards her. She instantly retracted from his touch and swatted away his hand as if it were a pest. 
“Don’t touch me!” She shrieked.
“Jang-mi, please,” he protested. This time Mino didn’t make the mistake of trying to touch her. His hands simply motioning for her to come into the safety of the room. “Let’s discuss this inside the room. Not the hallway.” 
Her face turned a bright red, and you understood why. Mino sounded like he was coddling a tantrum throwing child. Not a woman who just had a brutal awakening of her soon-to-be husband’s affair. Jang-mi took on last reproachful glance in your direction and moved to go inside the room; taking careful steps to touch neither of you.
As soon as the door to the room was closed, she whirled on you both. Maybe it would’ve been better to remain at Mino’s side to seem like a united front. But you couldn’t bring yourself to give her another theoretical smack in the face with that. So you kept a few inches between you and your head cast downward at the carpet.
“How. Long.” 
Jang-mi enunciated every word. Her small fists now in tight fists as her eyes scanned from one face to the other. Waiting for one of you to find the courage to answer. You wanted to let out a sigh of relief when Mino finally spoke: “Close to a year.”
That answer wasn’t what the other woman wanted. The air appeared to be knocked out of her, as her knees collapsed from under her and she ended up sitting on the bed. 
“I should’ve known,” Jang-mi began with her voice breathy as if she was talking from a memory. “That day in the alley. When I seen you two together. I knew by the look on your face.”
She looked up at you then, and you didn’t dishonor her by looking away. You held her gaze and knew you deserved what she thought of you. For in Jang-mi’s story, you were the villain. The one who came and stole her ever-after and did it without apology. You wouldn’t ask her to offer forgiveness for your selfishness. 
“His mother has a picture with you in it still. When you were younger at Danah’s eleventh birthday party. I know you were his first love. It’s clear on your faces, but make no mistake, I am the one he chose to marry.”
Jang-mi found her strength to stand and it was against you. You admired her fight but, in this, you refused to let her win.
“That can change,” you snapped. 
Your response surprised her, but she made it clear in her squared shoulders and upturned chin she wasn’t backing down. 
“How? For a year, you were nothing more than a girl kept in the shadows. No better than a whore-“
“Jang-mi, enough!” 
Mino cut in and went to shield you. You stopped him with a hand to his shoulder and stepped around him. Mino could be your knight in shining armor any day - but not today. Today, you would do it for yourself. 
“Think what you want, but I will be what you can never be: the woman he loves.”
Your cheek erupted in flecks of pain that radiated along the side of your face. It was so intense, your eyes blurred with unshed tears. This time you didn’t stop Mino from stepping between the two of you. Their arguing words drowned out to the ringing in your ears. 
“You need to choose Mino: right here and now! Either me or her, and you better make the right choice.”
You knew her threat wasn’t empty. It was backed by outrage with need for you to be proven wrong. That she was the one that held his heart; not willing to admit to the fact she might never have to begin with. Tears were freely streaming down her cheeks now as she reached out to hold onto him. Mino’s guilt leaving him unable to look away from the tears she tried to claim were of anger, but really a reflection of her breaking heart. 
The small room erupted in silence, and it began to make doubt creep into your thoughts. There was always the off chance Mino could choose her, and that was something you couldn’t bear. With your cheek still burning and eyes roaming back and forth between the both of them you didn’t notice Mino moving to stand beside you. His hand moving out to gently take yours in his, while his eyes sadly took in the woman before him. 
“I’m sorry, Jang-mi for being a coward and not telling you sooner. I love you, but I’m not in love with you and...because of that I cannot marry you.”
If things had been different, you would’ve went to her. You were sure that you were the last person she would ever want to comfort her. Not when the two of you stood mockingly the day before her would-be wedding. You knew Mino didn’t want to leave her this way. That he would carry the guilt of what transpired here tonight, and maybe he should for now. No one should go without acknowledging their own wrongdoing in someone else’s pain. Before he could say anything to Jang-mi, however, a sudden knock came at the door.
“Mino, are you there?”
The sound of Mino’s father at the door immediately made him stiffen. The anxiety evident on his face, and here it was Jang-mi saw her opening to share her grief with someone new. 
“He's here with another woman!” 
“J-Jang-mi, is that you?” 
Mino’s father sounded perplexed and you couldn’t blame him. He probably wasn’t expecting to hear his future daughter-in-law yelling about another woman. A tight squeeze into your hand reminded you of Mino at your side. Throughout this whole moment, Mino remained calm and allowed Jang-mi to react how she felt, because he knew he’d given her one of the greatest forms of betrayal. But the quiet understanding he’d used to compose himself was now gone. Now he just looked plain pissed off.
“You have no right to bring him into this!” He snapped.
“He deserves to know the kind of man his son is,” Jang-mi retorted. Her disdain dripping off of every word. 
“Mino! Open this door! Is Jang-mi in there with you?”
“Oppa, everything is alright!”
“No everything is not!” 
Jang-mi screeched the last word high enough it made you wince. She moved forward and slammed an angry fist down on Mino’s chest. You moved to grab her, but Mino simply shook his head and placed his hands gently on her shoulders. 
“Jang-mi,” he began sadly, “this will not make your pain hurt any less.”
“No, you’re right. It won’t.” She moved her hands to rest on his arms and stayed there. Just for a moment. Her looking up at him, Mino staring back, and you feeling like the odd third wheel in what seemed like an intimate moment. Suddenly, her gentleness turned cold and her arms shoved his away and stepped back. “But if I can make you feel any ounce of humiliation that I feel, just for one second, then it’s worth it.”
The room swelled with tension of the unknown before Jang-mi opened her mouth wide and let out a scream. Her mascara running down in droplets that reminded you of the matchmaker in Mulan. For all the world she had passed her pain and went start to rage and called out the worst things. That you were assaulting her. That Mino has struck her. It was enough to send Mino’s father into a frenzy outside the door.
“Fuck this,” Mino growled. 
He reached out his hand and clasped it securely around yours. He didn’t wait to grab your coats or cellphones. Mino moved straight for the door not caring for the howling woman at your back and opened the door to startle his father, and a few gawking hotel guests. 
“Mino, what’s going on?”
Mino didn’t answer his father. He pushed past him and forced you to do the same. The Song elder finally noticing your presence and his confusion only aging him faster. 
“Mino. Stop!”
But he didn’t stop. He kept running you both down the hallway and to the stars. The sound of his father and others rushing to catch up to you. Mino was running down the stairs at a speed that forced you to jump two at a time to keep up. It should’ve been odd. Maybe embarrassing, to be seen bursting from the stairwell into a fancy lobby. Your abrupt entrance startling guests waiting and checking in. In truth, it caused you to laugh. 
It didn’t matter what strangers thought as you moved through the prestigious double doors with people from the bridal party giving chase. Not even seeming crazy that Mino, or you, had any idea where you were going to run too. You just kept running, hand in hand, until he finally spotted a bus a few yards ahead. 
The both of you started waving the driver down in hopes he would see you and wait. There was a brief moment your heart dropped when it seemed he was about to shut the doors, but noticed his annoyance at having to wait for you written plainly on his face. You silently wished him and his family a thousand blessings as your feet took the small steps loudly. Mino and you digging like crazy around in your pockets to find the exact change to put it. 
You both couldn’t present it fast enough when his family came tearing into view, causing Mino to take the wad of money and shove it towards the driver. 
“You can keep all of it if you’ll just shut the doors and take off now. Please.”
It didn’t seem the older man was going to comply. His wary eyes moving from the money to both of your sweaty figures gasping for air and damp clothes. You were almost about to step back off the bus when he motioned with his head for the two of you to sit down. You were ready to hug him, but didn’t want to push your luck. 
The both of you moved to sit at the far back of the bus. Mino taking the window seat and you curled up against him with your head resting on his shoulder. The two of you stayed silent for a long time. Neither of you commenting on his father and, maybe, the groomsmen or the brides’ family, slamming their hands against the door just before the driver merged into the Seoul traffic. 
You listened only to the sound of his heart beating. The way it began to ease into its natural rhythm after the storm passed. It’s what helped you sort out all the thoughts that raged for purpose inside your head. The main one being the only one you chose to speak out loud.
“What now?”
Mino let out a sigh as a lazy hand moved to stroke over your hair. He remained quiet a while longer before he spoke. 
“Now? Now we just live out our happily-ever-after.”
A snort of laughter left you as you looked out the window; not wanting to move less it caused him to stop playing with your hair. 
“Oh, is that all?” You teased.
“Forever is simple. It’s the in between of getting there that’s hard.”
“You saying I’m hard?” 
You looked up him and took in the wistful smile that danced behind almond eyes. His finger moving delicately to trace the outline of your face. 
“No, jagi . You are the part of getting to forever that makes it all worth it.”
He spoke the last of his words against your lips. His nose playfully kissing across yours, before he actually moved down to give you a kiss and as he did you couldn’t help but agree. Everything that led to this point had been hell and messy, but it was easy to breathe once again. Your world righted itself and begun to make sense and that, you knew, was because your forever was simple. Your forever was kissing you, and that was the magic of finding your happily-ever-after and never letting go.
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monsterywriting · 5 years
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Tiefling Boyfriend (Maledos) - pt 3
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A/N: this is kind of a long chapter that I wasn’t sure I would get done by today,but here it is! This week has been so hectic studying for exams & I’m working on not just this but two other stories (one for Valentine’s and for the next story after Maledos’) so I'm happy I actually got to post this sort of on time lol
part 1 part 2
word count: 2,249
It had already been over a month since your first night at the bar. It was the go-to hangout spot for Kharza and her friends, so it was a given once you became a part of that group of friends that you would hang out there often as well. And whenever you would go to the bar, you and Maledos would inevitably take up each other’s time, a fact Kharza loves to claim as proof of something deeper going on between you, though it was to you just normal conversations and not like the two of you were proclaiming your undying love for each other. 
That always set Kharza off in a long speech about how dense you were, and how you wouldn’t realize Maledos was crushing on you if he got down on one knee in front of everyone. You couldn’t deny that Maledos was attractive, and you definitely wouldn’t mind if the handsome tiefling did like you. But, while the two of had gotten much closer since your first meeting, it just didn’t seem likely that a hot, single successful businessman would be interested in you like that. Especially considering the fact that Maledos hadn’t given you any sort of indication that he wanted to be anything more than friends.
But those facts that you used to deny anything deeper going on between the two of you to Kharza definitely didn’t stop you from starting to fall for Maledos a little more every time you saw him.
After a particularly long day at work, you fell asleep almost immediately after getting home, only taking Pumpkin out to pee once in the evening before passing out. You even bailed on Friday night drinks with everyone. So, at almost six in the morning, Pumpkin’s whining at your bedroom door woke you up and you rushed to take her out, feeling terrible for making her hold it in for so long.
You were at the park a couple blocks away in the small enclosure for dogs, enjoying the cool night air as Pumpkin sniffed around. You didn’t realize you had nodded off until you felt a tapping on your shoulder, making you let out a shrill scream.
“Gods above, that was loud! And here I was trying to wake you up from a park bench,” you recognized Maledos’ teasing voice right away, twisting around in your seat to look at him leaning over the fence as Pumpkin jumped onto the bench next to you for ear scratches.
“Are you barely coming back from the bar?” You laughed as you watched Maledos jump the fence to sit next to you, still apparently full of energy despite pulling an all-nighter at the bar. He was wearing the leather jacket with the bar’s logo on it, but this time he wore a black shirt, some tight jeans and white nike sneakers.
“Yeah, Fridays are always the busiest so I usually have to stay until the next morning,” Maledos sighed, “Where were you, by the way? I was bored all night without you.”
“Oh I’m sure you were absolutely lonely in the bar surrounded by 800 of your closest friends,” you laughed, nudging Maledos in his side as he leaned melodramatically on you with one arm thrown over his face.
You’d noticed that Maledos was like a cat once you got to know him, even beyond his tail behaving pretty similarly. Namely, Maledos was completely closed off to those he doesn’t know but very touchy-feely with those he was close to, which didn’t help your growing crush on the tiefling.
“And what are you doing sitting around in a dimly lit park this early?” Maledos asked, sitting up and draping his arms around the back of the bench.
“I fell asleep before taking Pumpkin out, so she had to come out earlier than usual,” you replied, pausing before continuing with a smirk, “but when else would I be able to run into my night owl of a neighbor?”
Maledos laughed, and the two of you began started joking around with each other while you sat, mostly about a certain couple downstairs that was always arguing very loudly in the middle of the night, until Pumpkin started tugging on her leash in your hand, a sign she was ready to go.
The two of you walked through the park towards the apartment building in a comfortable silence, Pumpkin sticking to Maledos’ side as he pet her while he walked.
“Oh yeah, Mrs. Lalshur tells me you baked her the best cookies she’s ever had when you first moved in,” Maledos said as he held open the building door open for you, “Gotta admit, I feel a little left out.”
“Yeah, I gave some to everyone on our floor, but somebody never answered their door when I came knocking,” you teased.
“Y’know, I think I remember looking through my peephole and seeing a girl scout once,” Maledos tapped his finger on his cheek while feigning a contemplative look, though he was soon doubling over laughing as you popped him in his arm at the jab.
“Well you can forget tasting any of my baking skills, mister,” you scoffed, turning as though you were going to stomp to your door.
“Hold on, I’m sorry, please give me- shit!,” Maledos tried to grab your arm and follow you, but neither of you noticed Pumpkin’s leash in between you as she stayed where she was standing, essentially acting as a tripwire for the tall tiefling.
Maledos fortunately caught himself on the wall, effectively caging you between his muscular arms as he hunched over you, both your noses were centimeters apart.
You let out a slight chuckle as Maledos looked down at you in worry at the almost headbutt, “if I didn’t know better, I’d say you tripped on purpose, Mal.”
Maledos’ expression softened, and a small grin broke onto his face as he began to say something, but the two of you were interrupted by the door across the hall slamming open and Mrs. Umekrana came out with her trash in one hand and a cigarette in the other.
“Jeez, you can’t keep it in your fucking pants, Maledos?” She muttered, continuing down the hall and taking a drag, “or at least in one of your apartments?”
The two of you looked at the willowy-looking drow like deer in headlights, neither saying anything until you saw her disappear down the stairwell.
“I didn’t know Mrs. Umekrana even knew my name,” Maledos was the first to break the silence as he stepped away from you, loudly clearing his throat.
You struggled to catch your breath, not wanting to sound too flustered when you finally responded, though you were fortunately spared as Pumpkin began whining to go inside beside you.
“It was good seeing you, Mal,” you smiled back at him as you unlocked the apartment, waving one last time before finally shutting the door.
You couldn’t go back to sleep after that, tossing and turning as you wondered what could have happened, if anything at all, had Mrs. Umekrana hadn’t decided to take out her trash at that very moment.
Finally giving up on sleeping, you got up and went into the kitchen, Pumpkin not moving from the bed. It was already 8 o’clock, which meant if you started baking now you could be done in an hour.
You quickly set to work, gathering all the necessary ingredients from the pantry and refrigerator while the oven preheated. Rather than make cookies, you decided to go with brownies, since it was slightly easier to prepare.
Kharza wandered into the kitchen as you sat on your phone with the pan baking in the oven, putting a pot of water to boil as she took out the instant coffee.
“Brownies? Who’re you bringing out the big guns for?” Kharza yawned as she leaned on the island counter with her chin resting on her palm.
“I’m not bringing out anything, I’m just making Maledos some brownies,” you replied, getting up to take out the pan and hoping that Kharza would leave it at that.
“Oh, Maledos, I should have known,” you didn’t even need to turn around to know that Kharza was wiggling her eyebrows with a knowing smirk.
You set the pan on a metal rack and tossed the oven mitts on the counter next to the stove. You absolutely could not tell Kharza about what had happened hours earlier; it would only get her more convinced that you and Maledos were a thing, and it made your head hurt thinking about what you felt about something almost happening, or if anything would have happened at all.
So, instead you just stuck your tongue out at your best friend and turned to watch the brownies cool off so you wouldn’t look at Kharza and spill your guts about Maledos.
As soon as Kharza left on her morning jog, taking Pumpkin with her, you carefully cut the brownies into small squares and stacked two thirds of them on a plate, sending a quick text to Maledos about coming over before putting the leftovers in the refrigerator and walking down the hall towards Maledos’ apartment.
It took you a minute to gather up the courage to knock, wondering if Maledos would even be up, but as soon as you lifted your hand, the door swung open.
“I got your text,” Maledos explained at seeing your surprised expression.
He had changed into a plain white t-shirt and sweats, his hair still wet. You tried to just hand the plate to him, but Maledos held the door open for you to come in.
As you walked to the kitchen, you were struck by how different Maledos’ apartment looked from yours and Kharza’s even with the same layout. The design definitely suited him; it all looked very modern, a lot of steel grays with black accents splashed here and there, and the entire room was incredibly pristine, looking like it had just been ripped out from a home living cover rather than an actual home where somebody lived. But, you remembered Maledos mentioning he spent most of his free time at the bar, so you supposed it made sense the apartment wasn’t messy.
You set the plate down on the kitchen counter, running face first into Maledos’ chest when you turned around just as he was reaching for a piece.
“Sorry,” you mumbled as you ducked around Maledos, not looking at him as you felt your cheeks already darkening. But, you also missed how Maledos turned to look at you make your way to his bookshelf, carefully reading the spines but not daring to pull anything out lest you mess up the order of everything.
Unbeknownst to you, Maledos had also felt antsy after the awkward hallway almost-something. He laid in bed, wide awake and texting his older sister, who had been less than pleased to be woken up so early on a Saturday, but had been surprised to hear her brother of all people was having girl troubles.
Maledos had been surprised as well. For his whole life, running the bar had been his dream, and everything else had been put on the back burner. He’d had flings over the years, sure, but none so close as his neighbor or a friend’s best friend. One night stands were his forte, not an increasingly important (to him) friend of a friend who baked cookies for old ladies in her free time, or just came over with a dozen brownies just because he mentioned he wanted to try her baking.
And Valbaugh had been dropping some not-so-subtle hints about thinking he should hurry up and ask her out, but he’d been stubborn about risking not only his friendship with you if you didn’t feel the same way.
But now, he couldn’t help but wonder what if he hadn’t been too afraid to act on his feelings, if he’d asked you out right there in the hallway or just told you how he felt and ask you if you could feel the same way about him.
Sometimes, he wondered if he should just ask Kharza for advice, but he’d always talk himself out of it, reasoning that it would be too weird to ask your best friend of all people for help.
“Uh, Mal?” You asked again, jumping up and waving your hand in front of Maledos’ eyes and drawing him back to reality, “You were spacing out pretty hard, are you okay?”
“Of course!” He laughed sheepishly, “What happened?”
“I said Kharza and I were gonna go to the bar tonight since we didn’t get the chance to go out last night,” you repeated, curious about what he had been thinking about but deciding not to press the issue, “I was wondering if you wanted to hang out with us? I figured maybe you would want to take the night off, you seem tired.”
Maledos smiled widely at the concern you showed for him before he could stop it, agreeing to have a couple drinks with you and Kharza.
“Great, see you tonight,” you smiled as you opened his apartment door and gave a small wave before shutting the door behind you.
“See you tonight,” Maledos returned your wave and stood standing in the middle of his entryway for a good five minutes after you’d left before taking out his phone to dial Valbaugh to announce he was taking the night off.
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hitchell-mope · 5 years
Text
Uma: why the hell are you covered in scratches?
(Flashback to Harry bring dropkicked into a raccoon enclosure)
Harry: ummmm
Uma: well?
Harry: raccoons aren’t like they are in the movies
Uma: MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAL!!!!
She runs off
Harry: yeah...dragon skank...it was her
Elsewhere
Evie: did you put him there
Mal: it’s still alive isn’t it?
Doug: and it was me that put him there
Evie: oh. So now uma...
Doug: is out for MY blood. Not mals.
Evie: oh...kay... Scandinavia?
Doug: sounds good
They run off
Mal: HEY! You’re just gonna leave me to be ripped apart by a homicidal octopus?
Devie: YEP
Mal: FCKING A! Urrrrrrgh! (Calls Ben) hey honey. Your best friend and my sister threw me under the bus and now umas on the warpath
Ben: I’ll call Elsa and tell her you’ll be there soon
Mal: thank you.
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