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interesting-interludes · 10 months

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the comforts of creatures (5)

creature comforts:

↳ material/bodily comforts, such as food, warmth, or special accommodations, that contribute to physical ease and well-being

→ pairing: ot7 x fem.reader

→ genre: supernatural!au, soulmate!au, hurt + comfort + recovery, angst with a happy ending, fluff, eventual smut

→ word count: 4.8k

→ summary: you learn what you are, and your reaction is far from what they expected. as they try to help you feel safe, the boys learn about your triggers, and they try their hardest to help in any way they can.

→ trigger/content warnings: PTSD (self-loathing, mistrust, flashbacks/nightmares) effects of brainwashing, lil’ bit of lore, overt and internalized racism/species-ism (?), vomiting, anxiety, mentions of starvation/food poisoning, mentions of physical abuse, dissociation, mentions of torture, aversion to touch, mc pushes jimin but he’s okay, jimin is an angel, facial/body scars, body dysmorphia/repulsion

→ a/n: thank y’all for your patience :) here’s some more hurt before the comfort lol

past part ← series masterlist → next part

part 5: scars and soothers

“This is you.”

The man is pointing at a detailed image drawn in faded ink. The rest of the page is filled with scripted text and anatomical diagrams.

You can’t look at first, scared of what you’ll find.

When you finally do, you don’t know what to think. There’s the thought that he’s kidding, he’s lying. He can’t be serious.

The drawing is of a creature with tawny-feathered wings extending magnificently in the air. It has the body of a powerful big cat, muscular yet elegant. Its four legs end in sharp-taloned feet. Its neck is framed by a golden mane, looking like a big frilly collar. The mane’s trail travels down the creature’s chest and back, ending in a flowing tail. It has the face of a lion, with white whiskers and deep yellow eyes, yet the regal posture of an eagle.

A diagram off to the left shows the inside of its mouth, lined with row upon row of sharp teeth and protruding fangs.

Looking back up, you search the faces of the men around you. None of them appear to be joking.

You can’t speak.

You’re one of them, one of the creatures they all despised. The creatures that roam the wild lands for easy prey, spreading carnage wherever they go.

No wonder they hated you so much. You’re not even human.

A few silent, involuntary tears fall from your eyes, which are locked back on the page. You wipe them away hastily.

The boys don’t know how to react, all looking at each other with concern.

“What...” you squeak out, voice choked. “What is it?”

“A gryffin,” Yoongi replies. “You’re a shifter.”

Something gurgles in your stomach. You clench your teeth, nails digging deep into the meat of your thighs.

You believe him. You don’t want to, but you believe him. You’ve always felt less than human, like something wasn’t right about you. Like something was just beneath the surface, clawing its way up.

Now you know why.

Jungkook, who’s sitting closest to you, slowly, cautiously puts his hand on your shoulder in an effort to comfort you.

But you flinch at his touch, jerking away.

You don’t catch the look of hurt that flits across his face. He knows you can’t help it, but it still stings to think that his touch physically repels you.

“What did they tell you about atypicals?” Namjoon presses, trying to shift your attention so you won’t look so disheartened by the reality of what you are.

From the way you look at him, he knows that you’ve never heard that word before. Or at least you don’t remember it.

“Atypicals are anything that falls out of the humanic species,” he explains patiently.

Your face scrunches in confusion.

“Humanic as in human,” he elaborates.

You don’t understand why he’s talking like that. You’ve never heard these terms before. In the place you came from, the “facility,” anything that wasn’t human was an abomination, a mistake in the eyes of nature.

Simple as that.

But here, things seem to be a bit more complicated.

Nausea is starting to bubble in your gut. You breathe carefully through your nose as you consider Namjoon’s question.

“They said...” you begin hesitantly.

They’re all on the edge of their seats, desperately wondering what those bastards brainwashed you to believe about their kind, your own kind.

“They said that they were monsters.”

Another pang of hurt thrums through their hearts.

“That...that they deserved to be hunted down like dogs.”

They can hear the pain in your own voice, either from witnessing their cruel behavior, or from realizing that you’ve been the target of it this whole time.

Your stomach churns.

“They said I wasn’t even worthy to lick the ground they walked on.”

They can all hear you choking on your tears, despite your attempts to hide it.

Jimin and Jungkook feel like their chests are going to burst from holding it in, both the sorrow they feel for you and the urge to rush forward and drown you in affection.

Jin and Namjoon have storms raging inside their heads. Namjoon is calculating, trying to decode what exactly their motive was and how to use it to track down the ones in charge of it all. Jin’s mind is reeling with ways to undo the damage they’ve done, mentally and physically.

Yoongi is swimming waist-deep in despair. He can’t help but think of what’s to come. You’ll have to relearn everything. How to shift, how to fight, how to cast. That is, if you even want to.

You feel the newly strung tension in the air, looking like you just realized you said all of those things out loud.

One look around the room, and your newly found voice retreats deep into your throat.

The man called Namjoon, his eyes have darkened, jaw clenched and ticking like he’s grinding his teeth.

The one who tended to your wounds is sitting stiffly in his chair, staring ahead with a new sharpness in his face.

The small dark-haired man has his hands clenched, prominent veins crawling up his arms.

You duck your head down, body stiff with nerves.

“You have to know,” Yoongi begins, voice calm as ever despite the rage just below the surface. “That’s not how most people think. Especially not here.”

Here in the North Regions, atypicals make up the majority of the population. Law enforcement, government, and public works are largely run by them, and prejudice is rarely an issue.

But how could you know that now?

They can all see the change. It’s almost instantaneous, the way your face shifts and loses all semblance of emotion. Just like that, the mask is back up.

Then there’s something else. A slight twitch from your nose, a well-hidden shudder. They can see your throat bobbing.

For a few seconds, it looks like you’re about to say something. Your tongue is moving inside your mouth, and you’re blinking rapidly.

Namjoon is about to utter some gentle encouragement, but a jolt racks through your body, making you hunch over.

All of a sudden you’re vomiting up everything you just ate.

Hoseok, Jungkook and Jimin can’t help but jump to their feet, panicked noises filling the air.

Taehyung’s eyes widen. All his limbs go rigid, paralyzing him in his seat. He feels sick himself.

Jin, Namjoon, and Yoongi all look at each other.

Yoongi thrusts into action, heading to the kitchen with Jungkook in tow since he isn’t good around pungent-smelling things.

Namjoon starts giving instructions. Jimin, paper towels. Hobi, get the mop. Said men jolt into action, scrambling to do whatever they can to help.

Jin’s eyes have been fixed on you for some time now, catching your every move, including all the suppressed flinches and tremors.

He’s at your side in an instant, on his knees to try to catch your eyes. But it’s no use, you’re squeezing your eyes shut like you’re expecting to be hit.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he mutters in his gentlest voice. “It’s no big deal. No one is upset with you.”

As much as he wants to, he refrains from touching you right away.

Eyes still tightly shut, you flinch away from the sound of his voice, twitching with anxiety.

Jin can see you start to spiral, so he does the only thing he knows will work.

“Hey,” he begins, voice firmer than it was before. “Look at me.”

Your eyes snap open, shining with moisture.

“That’s my girl,” Jin says before he can help it. “You’re going to calm down for me, yeah?”

Your eyes desperately search his face, looking for any sign of anger or deception. You find none, not even a hint of disgust, and your breathing starts to slow.

All that’s there is the man who tended to your wounds, watching you with those patient eyes. His handsome face is calm, attentively anticipating whatever you need right now.

Sweat gathers on your skin. That same sensation crawls up your throat, saliva pooling in your mouth.

Jin notices the signs immediately.

“Come with me,” he orders softly, putting a light hand on your back and leading you to the nearest bathroom.

You don’t know what to do with yourself.

You remember vomiting a few times at the facility. Once from eating a rotten vegetable, the mold making it impossible to identify. And once when a handful of keepers had held you down, repeatedly punching you in the stomach, until you gave in and called yourself a mutt.

Both times you were severely punished for making a mess. You learned to hold it in your mouth and swallow it down after that.

Jin guides you to kneel over the toilet. He keeps talking to you, but you only process half of what he’s saying.

“Go ahead, let it out,”

You can feel it creeping up, burning and sour. But something deeper, something almost instinctual, tells you to keep it down.

“Stop holding it in, sweetheart,” he says, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “It’s not good for you. It’s okay to let go.”

Before you can think to suppress it, another wave of nausea surges through your body. The crescendo of it makes you wretch, emptying the last of your stomach’s contents.

“Good, good, just get it all out,” he encourages instead of beating you until you can’t breathe.

The bile is bitter in your mouth, but not more bitter than the dread clinging to your entire being.

He’s not going to punish me, you finally realize. It’s almost an impossible thought.

For a moment, you stay hunched over, frozen. Not sure what to do next.

“Here, come wash your mouth out,” Jin says, helping you stand up on shaky legs.

The sound of running water rings in your ears. You feel the coolness against your tongue, but barely register that you’re the one cupping it to your lips. Numb. You feel like you’re controlling your body from the outside rather than the inside.

“Now, let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

You look up at him for the first time in a while. His face is as kind as it was before, with the same full-lipped smile and warm brown eyes.

The man starts to lead you out of the room, that same gentle hand resting on your back.

It isn’t until then that you realize you’re still in the grimy clothes they found you in. And now the entire front of your shirt is stained with even more filth.

You glance into the living room as you pass through the hallway.

The other men are diligently cleaning the area you just soiled. The small dark-haired man and the muscular man are missing, though you can hear rustling from the kitchen.

The one with the jet black hair and bright face catches your eye, flashing a reassuring smile. It makes you rip your eyes away.

Jin guides you into the living room, and everyone immediately looks your way.

Shrinking, you’re shrinking into yourself as much as your body will allow.

“Someone run a bath,” Jin announces. “I think it’s time our little guest got some sleep in clean clothes.”

The fair-haired one steps forward and exchanges a subtle look with Jin, who’s standing slightly behind you.

“Would you follow me?” the shorter man says, holding out his hand.

It’s the one with the silver-gray hair and warm eyes. You think his name is Jimin. His face is soft and friendly. It asks a silent question: will you trust me?

You don’t take his hand, but you do take a step up the stairs in the direction he’s leading you.

You don’t catch it, but Jimin and Jin exchange a heartfelt glance, nearly ecstatic at the fact that you’re beginning to trust them.

Jimin leads you up the stairs as the rest of them settle things downstairs.

When you reach the top, he guides you down a spacious hallway that’s filled with potted plants and window light.

Every single door, down to the very end of the hall, is open. Whether it’s open wide or just a crack, not one of them is closed or locked. You’re not used to it.

The man, Jimin, stops at a door halfway down the hall and looks back to check if you’re still following him.

You stop a few feet away from him, still keeping your distance, but your expression is open and neutral, waiting on his next move.

He gives you a calm smile, and continues into the room with you behind him.

This room is just as bright and inviting as the rest of the house. White walls and clean tile floors, but this time with a large porcelain tub and a sink with marble countertops.

The man turns to look at you with a question in his eyes.

“Shower or bath?” he asks.

It’s a harmless question, a considerate question. But your mind is yanked back to that place.

Shower. A torrent of fire raining down on you, vision blinded by steam. It comes from every angle, unrelenting no matter how much you scream.

They would strip you down and lock you in a metal stall the size of a coffin. Then the dotted ceiling would unleash a downpour of near-boiling water.

You would bang on the walls, but the water made the metal surface just as hot, the floor burning the bottom of your feet. Minutes or hours they kept you in there, not letting you out until your body was covered in burn marks.

Bath. The most intense cold you’ve ever felt. It’s everywhere, submerging you up to the neck, seeping down to your very bones.

They would chain you down in a tub full of ice, nothing but your head poking out of the frigid water. The cold chains cut into your skin the more you struggled. Your lungs would heave from the shock of it, your whole body shivering violently.

Then they would hold your head underwater until you were bucking like a stuck pig. This went on until you were utterly exhausted, falling limp against the freezing porcelain with nothing but the tight chains holding you up.

You’re snapped back to reality when the man takes a step closer. He’s watching you closely, trying to read your face.

Finally remembering that he asked you a question, you shrug your shoulders and shake your head.

You don’t want either. You don’t want to be anywhere near that tub. You want him to leave you alone.

Jimin guesses that the gesture means you don’t care which one. He figures you’re most likely still weak from malnourishment, and he doesn’t want you fainting and hitting your head.

So he opts for a bath, turning on the faucet. He sits on the edge of the tub, hand under the spout to monitor the temperature.

The sound of running water makes every muscle in your body tense up. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

It’s going to hurt, it’s going to hurt. The fire, the ice, it’s going to burn and sting and cut into your flesh. You won’t be able to escape it.

Jimin doesn’t notice it at first, too focused on adjusting the knobs to get the water not too hot and not too cold, but your breathing has picked up again.

You can already feel it filling your ears, your mouth, rushing down your throat as your head is held down. Your skin prickles from the heat, it quivers from the cold.

The water in the tub continues to rise, and you can’t move. Your body is frozen, feet rooted to the floor as the sound of sloshing roars louder and louder in your ears.

Halfway full, now. It’s coming any second. He’s going to turn on you, throw you down and hold you under.

Burning, freezing. It’ll hurt and hurt and hurt.

Jimin turns his head, and his stomach drops.

Your eyes are squeezed shut, lips pursed like you’re trying to bite back a scream. Fists clenched at your sides, shoulders trembling, as your chest heaves up and down.

Immediately, he jumps to his feet and rushes over to you.

“What is it, babe? What’s wrong?”

Then he makes a big mistake. He puts his hands on you.

His touch is gentle, nonthreatening, nothing but two hands on your shoulders. But you don’t want it, you’re repulsed by it. Because touch always comes before the pain.

On instinct, your body jerks away, arms moving to push the unwelcome touch away, just get it away. Your hands collide against something, hard.

When you open your eyes, the man is on the floor. Sprawled on his back, looking up at you with wide, slightly watery eyes.

There’s shock plastered on both of your faces.

Jimin’s soft heart hurts a little, he can’t help it. In all the years he’s known you, loved you, you’ve never ever been repelled by him. But that hurt is soon drowned by guilt.

He scared you, he made you feel unsafe. You felt the need to protect yourself and it’s his fault.

You’re staring at your hands in horror, completely floored by what you’ve done. You’re in for it now. He tried to help you and you hurt him. Now they’re going to hurt you even more.

Several sets of pounding footsteps draw near. The others must have heard the thud from downstairs and rushed up to see what was wrong.

What they don’t expect to find is Jimin crumpled on the floor and you standing over him in a braced position, but that’s exactly what they see when they peer through the doorway.

They’re all a little astonished, Jin and Namjoon are thinking deeply, and something in Taehyung’s eyes shifts.

He isn’t proud of it, but a surge of protectiveness washes over him, for his Jimin. He knows it’s unreasonable, unfair even. But it’s still there. And he can’t snuff it out.

A new fear consumes you. You were insubordinate, you resisted. You know what comes next.

A sob gets trapped in your throat as you sink down to the floor, burying your head in-between your knees and using your arms to shield yourself.

Immediately, the same way Jimin did, they all rush forward to comfort you.

“No!” Jimin blurts out, making you flinch and shake violently. “Don’t touch, give her some space.”

They all obey, keeping their distance with concern flooding their features.

Jimin shifts onto his knees, scooting a little closer but still keeping enough away.

“I’m sorry,” he nearly whispers, like he’s talking to a wild, cornered animal. “It was my fault entirely. I shouldn’t have touched you. I’m truly sorry.”

Jimin’s voice has always been soothing, even in the darkest times, and your breathing slows a little.

Jimin realizes that the faucet is still running, and he reaches over to switch it off. Then it comes to him.

He turns back to your trembling form, still waiting for the pain to come.

“You’re scared of the water, aren’t you?” he asks gently.

He doesn’t expect you to reply, he just wants to let you know that he’s trying to understand you, to help you.

You nod slightly.

It shocks them all again. You’re becoming more responsive.

“I’m so, so sorry,” Jimin says with all the sincerity he can muster. “It’s not your fault. I promise I won’t do that again.”

Your shoulders gradually stop trembling, breath coming evenly now.

Jimin looks at his mates and gestures for them to give you some more space so you can calm down.

They all do as he says, except Tae. He lingers in the doorway, his piercing eyes flickering between you and Jimin, thinking.

The two men exchange a meaningful glance. Jimin gives him a reassuring smile and nods his head as if to say “There’s nothing to worry about. I got this.”

Tae gives a slight nod back and turns to leave, throwing one last look at you.

Jimin sees the hint of distrust hidden in that look. He files it away for later.

Turning his attention back to you, Jimin looks at the tub and thinks of a solution.

“You don’t have to get in the tub, okay? We can just...” Jimin opens the cupboard under the sink and takes out a handful of washcloths.

“Like this, see?” He dips one of the cloths in the water, using it to wipe down his face.

“Is that okay?” he asks.

You scan his face. Those big brown eyes are full to the brim with kindness, as if you didn’t just hurt him moments ago.

You nod.

Jimin smiles so big it almost hurts his cheeks, heart swelling as you hesitantly hold your hand open. He puts another cloth in your waiting palm.

“Okay, here’s the soap, shampoo, conditioner. You can wash your face with this. Use whatever you want, okay?”

You look at him, trying to convey with your eyes what your mouth can’t say. He stays there for a moment, sitting with you on the tile, answering your every question with just his expression.

It’s okay. You’re safe here. No one is going to hurt you. You can trust me. I understand you.

Breaking from his reverie, Jimin gets up and moves to leave.

“I’ll give you some privacy,” he says, swinging the door closed.

You shoot forward and grab the knob just before it shuts.

Jimin jumps a little, whipping back around. There’s confusion on his face, then understanding.

“Okay, we’ll leave it open just like this. I’ll be just outside if you need anything, okay?”

You feel the tension release from your chest, and nod back.

Another warm smile, and then he disappears into the next room.

He’s not going to lock you in. Another impossible realization.

Turning around, you stare at the full tub. Your heartbeat skitters a little, but you take a step towards it anyways.

When you dip your fingertips in the clear water, you expect it to be scalding, or cold enough to numb, but it’s neither. The water is warm and calm, it doesn’t burn, it doesn’t sting.

Another breath releases from your lungs.

You use the cloth and soap to wipe down your whole body, shedding your dirty clothes and tossing them aside. Soon the tub is cloudy from the dirt on the washcloth. You even dip your hair into the water and use a little shampoo to get some of the grime out.

You sit there and wash yourself until the water turns cold. Using the counter to steady yourself, you slowly come to a stand, even though your legs are aching.

The sight in front of you is enough to shock you into silence again.

You can’t remember the last time you saw your reflection. You wish you weren’t seeing it now.

The person in the mirror is ugly and pathetic. Her short hair is a mangled mess. Haphazardly cut with a pair of dull scissors, it sticks out in all different angles. Her eyes are blank and lifeless, red-rimmed and surrounded by dark circles. There’s a large, hideous scar across her left cheek, deep and forked like a flash of lightning.

Her body is weak and repulsive. Slouching forward, she’s barely able to hold herself up. She’s covered in scars and marks, all over her legs, her arms, her torso.

You know there are worse scars behind you.

Horrifically entranced, you slowly reach up to touch the scar across her face, your face. Your fingertips meet the textured tissue, and then there’s the pain.

It’s not a physical pain, it doesn’t originate from the scar itself. It’s a pain deep in your chest, spreading and infecting the rest of your body. It maims you, twists your insides, disfigures your soul.

You muffle the silent scream with a hand over your mouth. Knees buckling, you barely have any strength left to keep yourself upright.

You’re barely you. You don’t remember who you were before, but you know it wasn’t this.

A gentle knock on the door.

You immediately stifle any signs of discomfort, snapping the mask back on with frightening accuracy.

Jimin’s arms poke through the gap in the door. He sets a bundle of clothes on the counter.

“Here you go," his pleasant voice says. “Please let me know if they’re comfortable enough.”

You wait a good twenty seconds before you reach for them. A warm green sweater and soft cotton pants.

You hurriedly slip them on to hide your disgusting body.

Leaning closer to the door, you try to hear beyond the wood. Hushed voices, muted footsteps.

“Ready, love?” a smooth voice sounds from just behind the door.

You flinch away, trying your best to make your hair look less unkempt.

It’s Jin who cautiously swings the door open, greeting you with an affectionate smile.

“Much better, hmm?” he says.

You manage a curt nod, following him with your head down to another room.

It’s the room from earlier, the one with the massive bed. The rest of them are here waiting, muttering quiet words until you arrive. Then they go silent and set their eyes on you, asking a question you can’t understand.

Why are they all looking at you? You don’t like it, not at all. People who look like them shouldn’t look at someone like you. You’re wrong, inside and out.

They all notice the change. Now your eyes are trained on the ground, head bent and shoulders folding in on yourself like you wish you would disappear.

Jin ushers you towards the humongous bed, encouraging you to settle in under the covers. He tucks the comforter around your body, fluffing the pillows behind your head.

“There, nice and cozy,” he says, sounding satisfied for the time being. “Rest up, okay love? You’ve been through a lot.”

Why are they talking to you like that? You’re disgusting. They should be throwing you out on the streets to fend for yourself like a common rat.

The small dark-haired man kneels down next to you. He hands you a mug of steaming amber liquid, using the bed sheets to shield your hands from the hot surface.

“This should settle your stomach,” he says.

While Jimin was getting you cleaned up, Yoongi and Jungkook were hard at work cooking up a tincture for your nausea. Essence of lavender to help you sleep, peppermint to refresh your throat, a little ginger to ease your stomach, and some of Yoongi’s highest-quality potions to replenish your nutrients. And, of course, Jin stirred in a copious amount of honey to sweeten it up.

You hold the cup in your hands like it’s a ticking time bomb.

Yoongi looks at his mates in confusion and concern, not sure what to do. Jimin catches his gaze, and gestures wildly with his hands. He exaggeratedly mimics holding the cup and taking a sip, and then Yoongi understands.

He gently takes the mug from your hands and holds it up to his nose.

“Let me check if it’s too hot for you,” he says, blowing off some of the steam and taking a long sip. He makes sure to swallow with audible emphasis.

“Okay, it should be good,” he says, handing it back to you.

This time you hold it close to your chest like it’s a precious gem, slowly sipping away at the frothy liquid.

They all look at each other with a relieved, triumphant expression.

Namjoon steps forward and leans down to level his face with yours.

“There’s water for you over there,” he gestures to a table in the corner, complete with a pitcher and cup. “And the bathroom is the next door over.”

You nod to show your appreciation, still avoiding eye contact.

Jin enters your field of vision again.

“Do you think you can hold down some meds?” he asks. It’s sincere, no seeming deception behind it.

But you still shake your head vehemently. You don’t want anymore pills. In fact, you don’t want to see another pill ever in your life.

“Okay, love,” he says, smiling again. “Just rest up for me. For us.”

You have no idea what he means by that, but you sink into the pillows anyway.

One by one they filter out of the room, casting a last look at you before they leave.

You wish they wouldn’t. Their eyes seem to leave even more marks on your skin.

The door starts to swing shut. Then someone mutters something, and it stops just before it closes completely.

Footsteps recede, silence settles upon the room.

You manage a few more sips from the steaming mug, eventually setting it aside. The bed is soft and comfortable, but you can’t bring yourself to lie down.

You sit there, watching shadows dart across the wall, for hours.

a/n: thanks so much for reading!! if you enjoyed it please leave a comment on what you thought of the story/any questions it would mean the world to me!! and if you’re feeling extra generous, please reblog with tags it helps to spread the story around, thank you!! 💖

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theminecraftbee · 4 months

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[writing found in a floating temple belonging to an unknown player on a distant server. while there were no signs of life in the temple, there were signs of life in the caves below it, including some rusted armor sets, complicated machinery overgrown by birch saplings, and a small robot with a tag on it that read “lil buddy” and a battery clutched in one of its claws. despite all attempts, researchers could not find the portal that is normally found by those players taken in by the vault gods, though given the presence of an altar, it is certainly nearby, and the area has been quarantined until that portal’s location can be ascertained.]

I asked Idona to save me the other day.

It feels fickle; it feels like the sort of thing I only said because that’s what one ought to say to gods, when they want something from them. “Save me, Idona.”

They did no such thing, but I didn’t expect them to. I knew them when they still demanded blood sacrifice; now that they merely demand challengers at their altar instead of anything so obvious as the blood of their enemies, it can be easy to forget how malicious they had once seemed. It’s easy to forget that asking things of them had once ended poorly.

Perhaps that’s the Paradox that they are showing me; I had asked Idona to save me because within that Paradox, they would build a mine. That a blood god now offers mines and blacksmiths to me instead, in a place I can design to access myself—well, it’s easy to forget how I once knew them.

It’s easy to forget how often their challenges killed me once, too, back before I knew the trick to finish them quickly. The Gods had seemed just as cruel and capricious as always when I’d simply failed to find enough of the chests they’d laid out and they punished me by causing my health to steadily fade away.

That rarely happens anymore.

You see, yesterday, I killed a wither with a single hit from my javelin and a single hit from my sword. As I flew home, a nether star clutched in my feelers, I felt very little. It was hardly a challenge compared to the vaults; I don’t know why I’d expected more.

The gods have challenged me; I have risen to that challenge. I sweep through vaults, their minders at the side of my head, until I find their altar to bow at, find their altar to make promises of being the challenger they’re looking for at. I know the tricks to find my way around a vault, after all. I spend more time there than the overworld.

I wonder if I’m becoming arrogant, actually.

Even without my armor or sword, I’m too strong for the endermen I used to accidentally release from my farms. I hit them once and they die; if the punch doesn’t work, a javelin or a cast spell will. With the endermen, it’s fine.

With my parrots or dogs—

I have Lil Buddy now. He can’t die because I’m not meant for the overworld anymore, I don’t think.

I wonder if that, too, is the Paradox. The gods are gifting me unlimited power. I step into a vault I have designed myself, under their guidance, and I pull untold riches from it every time. The gods are gifting me strength, which I can call from an altar at any time. No threat can step near me without either being poisoned or scratched by the strength of my blade.

But I have not had a pet that is not made of metal in—I don’t know how to count days any longer. Time passes strangely inside of vaults. It is Wendarr’s trickery. I simply know I haven’t since I was level 70, and that feels like ages ago.

That’s about when I realized perhaps I am untouchable to that which I want, too.

Maybe I should ask Idona to save me for a reason that was not me, desperately trying to seek out their altar for jewels I hardly need these days; maybe I should ask Idona to save me from sacrificing more than I can give.

I know them, though. I’ve known them since they’ve demanded blood.

They won’t.

And one day, I will give them everything, and I will thank them for it. The one god that even they worship above all others, after all, is greed, and that is an altar I cannot simply stop going to.

#vh talk #vh logs #vault hunters #a bee fic #I was playing vault hunters tonight and DID ACTYALLY SAY ‘save me idona’#and it was a joke but it made me think #so here! some fanfic of my level 95 sona realizing that they are untouchable these days for better or worse.#me realizing that I am currently REALLY USED TO being a late-game rpg player that deals ~150 damage an attack with regularity #me realizing how untouchable that makes me to. anything that can’t punch through 115 armor points and like 300 DPS #late-game vault hunters is wild man.

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borathae · 5 months

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“They were brothers brought together by tragedy and best friends separated by destiny. Seokjin, now freed of his Raven mark and unaware of his little brother’s whereabouts, visits the Queen’s castle with promises of healing the other freed Ravens. Jungkook, now living his life as the Queen’s Consort and uninformed of Seokjin’s fate, doesn’t know that today will be the day he will finally reunite with his bigger brother.”

Pairing: Best Friends!Jungkook x Seokjin | Seokjin x f.Reader OC 1 | Jungkook x f.Reader OC 2

Genre: Fantasy!AU, Slice of Life, Childhood Best Friends!AU, Found Family!AU, Royalty!AU, Queen Consort!Jungkook, Healer!Seokjin

Warnings: there is plot hehehe, they're best friends who got separated only to reunite again!!, they're like brothers, they share & talk about past trauma, hinted child abuse (they experienced it), but more than anyhing this is so healing and soft and lovely, Jungkook shows Seokjin the castle and Seokjin is all like "my lil bro is royalty now <3", they love each other so much like you guys they're brothers!!, they also bicker in typical jinkook fashion <3, i love this story so much you guys

Wordcount: 11.1k

a/n: because this is based on (and set after) their main stories, the boys each have a female lover which i won't name here because in their main stories it's supposed to be the reader but as a different OC each, you get me? i know you do. if you don't, just read their stories and come back to this. okay then, enjoy besties! istfg i love this universe so much :(

𓄿 Index 𓄿

Seokjin is nervous. It was his idea and yet he is still terribly nervous. He hasn’t been back in the castle since he climbed the walls and fled. It has been thirteen full moons since then and also thirteen full moons since he found his true destiny. She is with him today, because she will do most of the talking and work while he will assist her. She found him washed up by the riverbank next to her house and took him in. He was lucky because she was a healer – the trusted healer of the Queen even – and despite his past, she nurtured him until he felt whole again. His past, Seokjin aches in guilt when he thinks about it, is also the reason why he felt so nervous about today despite it being his idea.

He was a Raven once. A Raven of the Black Forest. The Ravens are a group of young boys and men poisoned by the twisted worldviews of their cruel leader Rafkan. He is one of the Nïuri, a peaceful people which use their immortality to nurture the earth, but not Rafkan as he uses his immortality to ruin young boys’ futures and kill innocent people. A black tattoo of a raven brands the members of Rafkan’s group and lets everyone know that the wearer was unlucky enough to fall into Rafkan’s hands.

Seokjin thankfully escaped his claws and managed to free himself of the marks which once ruined his chest.

The reason for today’s visit to the Queen’s castle was based on this exact mark. Most Ravens didn’t want to get tattooed. Most were not older than five when Rafkan drilled the tattoo deep under their skin, ignoring their screams of pain and cries for mercy. Seokjin still remembers how he screamed and cried as the thick needle repeatedly punctured his skin. He was seven.

With the help of Seokjin’s true destiny and forever partner, he was able to rid himself of the mark and he wants to grant the same opportunity to his fellow freed Ravens. It is well known in the Queendom that the Queen’s castle serves as refuge for many Ravens, who were lucky enough to escape Rafkan’s poisoned grip. Although Rafkan still tells his boys that the Queen and her late mother kill Ravens for sports, it isn’t the truth. Ravens get a second chance at the castle. They are free to stay in her castle and they are free to leave to wherever they crave to go. Seokjin could have stayed as well and he could have left if he wanted to, but back then he was still too stubborn to see that. So he fled in the dark of the night, swearing to himself never to return to the castle.

And now he is back. He is back at the place he swore never return to, but he isn’t guilty, he is just so very nervous. What if his idea fails? What if the marks of his freed brothers won’t fade? Seokjin watched it with own two eyes as his love removed it from his chest and yet he is scared that somehow the healing spell won’t work today.

There are also other worries plaguing him. He worries that he won’t be welcome at the castle anymore. That he will be captured and thrown into prison. His love assured him that this won’t happen, as she knows the Queen to be of very forgiving nature, but Seokjin was still nervous. He has been clutching his love’s hand ever since the castle gates came into view.

“Don’t be scared, my dearest”, she tells him, giving him a reassuring smile.

“I know, but I truly am. I do not want to be thrown into prison”, he says.

“There is no reason for that. Yes, you left in secrecy, but if the queen sees that you used your freedom to find happiness and a purpose, she will be happy”, she says and pulls him closer, “you will be alright, my dearest. And perhaps if we are lucky, Jungkook will be there as well.”

Seokjin smiles at the mention of his lost brother. He is happy, but he also aches. This is the last worry which plagues him and which makes it difficult for his heart to beat normally.

What if Jungkook wasn’t in the castle? What if he is still caught in Rafkan’s fangs? What if he didn’t find freedom? What if he died?

Seokjin spent his night sleepless and repeating the worrying questions over and over again. He is so scared. So, so scared that today’s journey will bring news of grief for him.

The Queen knew of the healer’s visit to the castle. She sent a letter a week ago, telling her that she had a cure for the Raven mark and that she can offer her services to the freed Ravens living in the castle. The Queen instantly agreed and sent word to all neighbouring villages that whoever wanted to rid himself of his marks may do so in one week. The halls and courtyard are buzzing in life. Ravens, who haven’t seen each other in years have come to the castle, celebrating their near future of true freedom. The emotions were high and food was plenty.

Jungkook has been excited all day. He was the first to know of the healer’s arrival. The letter met his love at night when they were already in bed, getting ready for sleep. She opened it next to him and then began crying in happiness.

“What’s the matter, my destiny?” Jungkook asked her back then, feeling worried until she told him of the good news and Jungkook joined her in her tears of happiness. Being freed of the mark was all he dreamt of ever since he escaped Rafkan and in a week he will finally make his dream a reality.

Today was finally the day. The healer will arrive any second now and Jungkook will finally be free. Truly and visibly free. He has been spending his day talking to all his fellow Ravens. Many still lived in the castle and became his friends, but many came from the villages and towns and felt more like distant relatives to Jungkook. Today however they all felt connected and high in spirits.

Jungkook has already drunk two mugs of mead and ate way too much of the flavourful pork belly. He feels overjoyed, but also very needing of the bathroom.

He excuses himself from the courtyard to hurry inside.

“My starlight, there you are”, the Queen - and his fiancée - greets him inside, taking his hands, “I looked everywhere for you.”

“Forgive me, I was in the courtyard talking to all of my brothers.”

Jungkook gives her a kiss on the cheek because he loves her a lot. She leans into the kiss with her fingers squeezing his hands.

“Don’t apologise. I merely wanted to tell you that the healer and her apprentice will be here soon. Our warriors saw them coming up the roads.”

“Really? Oh heavens, I need to hurry up then”, Jungkook says, slipping his hands out of his finacée’s loving hold.

“Why? What are you doing?”

“I need to relieve myself. I drank too much and my bladder is going to burst.”

“Oh heavens, well”, she chuckles, “hurry up then, you precious boy you”, she says and gives his butt a gentle pat as if too speed up his steps.

“I will, worry not”, Jungkook says and hurries away in hasty steps.

He will reach the toiletries in time with the healer and Seokjin arriving at the castle. He will be relieving himself as the Queen welcomes them with smiles and music. And he will wash his hands thoroughly as the healer and Seokjin set up their healing station and the Ravens begin lining up for their freedom. He doesn’t know of Seokjin yet.

Truly, it is such an awful twist of fate that Jungkook’s bladder decided to give up mere seconds before Seokjin entered the courtyard. The dark haired healer scans his eyes over the dozens and dozens faces, hoping to see the face of his brother in them. He knows most of the Ravens gathered here and the joy of seeing them is grande, but none of them was Jungkook. Jungkook was special to Seokjin. Jungkook was like a little brother to Seokjin.

Only five years younger than Seokjin and with fear in his big eyes, Jungkook became a Raven when Seokjin was ten years of age. Jungkook hid the moment Rafkan and the older Ravens left him at the camp to hunt for food. Jungkook refused to come out of hiding for hours. Even when dinner was promised, he didn’t leave his hiding spot, which ended in Rafkan punishing him for “ignoring his body’s needs”.

Seokjin and the other boys always had to watch when one of them was punished and Jungkook’s punishment was no exception. Seokjin always felt terrible when he watched his fellow young brothers cry because of what Rafkan did, but there was something about Jungkook crying that night which hit Seokjin especially hard. The poor, frightened boy hid again the second the punishment was finished and only his small, pained sobs were heard in the camp. The other boys were too frightened to check up on him, but Seokjin was overtaken with a sense of protectiveness and so he crawled under the thorny bushes Jungkook was hiding in and offered the younger boy a hug. Jungkook didn’t want to take it at first, but all it took was one smile from Seokjin and he fell into his arms and cried his broken heart out.

Ever since that night, Seokjin and Jungkook shared a special bond and a deep, honest love. They hugged each other when they were sad or scared or in pain, they shared every meal with each other, shared blankets when the nights were cold, shared laughter when the days weren’t as dark and shared every stage a young boy goes through as he grows into a man. They would have shared adulthood as well, but Seokjin decided to leave to kill the Queen and till this day he regrets leaving without Jungkook.

Their last conversation ended in anger and hurtful words. Rafkan managed to influence Jungkook and poison his mind. Seokjin never truly allowed the poison to take hold of him and wanted to use the opportunity to flee together from Rafkan. So he told Jungkook of his plans and had to realise that his younger brother met it with anger and resentment. They fought, Jungkook called him hurtful things and Seokjin left without Jungkook. Until this day, Seokjin regrets that he left that night, that he didn’t try harder to convince his little brother and that he left even when the last words they shared were of angry nature.

If Seokjin has to realise that Jungkook wasn’t at the castle or that he had already died, he won’t ever forgive himself and he might never truly be himself again.

Seokjin shifts in his seat restlessly. He and his love have already healed ten Ravens of their marks and yet he still hasn’t spotted Jungkook. He asked each of them if they knew of Jungkook, but most were too old to know of him. They must have been Ravens before their time. Perhaps the Queen’s mother rescued them when she was still alive.

The Queen hasn’t come back either. She excused herself once she exchanged a few friendly words with Seokjin and his love and hasn’t returned since. Seokjin grows worried that she had went to get her warriors. After all, she looked at him as if she saw a ghost and then spoke of needing to go.

Seokjin keeps scanning the crowd for warriors out to get him and for Jungkook. Truly, he might need to excuse himself to the toiletries soon for his stomach keeps twisting in nervousness.

He sees the Queen then. She is hurrying over the courtyard with a man by her side. His face is shielded from his vision, but he can see that she is holding his hand. Seokjin gulps. He can’t explain it, but he feels uncomfortably nervous all of a sudden. Anxious even.

“Hello.”

One of the freed Ravens drags his attention away. He sits down in front of him and presents his bared chest to him.

“You have no idea for how many years I dreamt of ridding myself of this cursed mark”, he says.

“Oh, I know how you feel”, Seokjin says and begins spreading the purple cream on the man’s chest, “what’s your name?”

“Bartholomew.”

Seokjin gasps, looking at him with widened eyes.

“Bartholomew?”

He laughs, “you didn’t recognize me, did you? I blame the good food in the castle. I eat wonderfully these days”, he says and slaps his belly as a happy laugh shakes his shoulders.

“I didn’t recognize you. You look so healthy”, Seokjin says and bites back tears, “I can’t believe my eyes. You survived.”

“As did you, sweet boy”, Bartholomew says and caresses Seokjin’s cheek, “you look healthy, my boy.”

“I am. I am so healthy and I’m in love”, Seokjin says, sending his love a chaste look.

Bartholomew smiles, “this is good. Yes, love makes the life sweet. I’m in love as well. His name is Derrec. He’s a weaver in town and we met as I shopped for fabrics.”

“This is so wonderful. Oh, I am so happy for you”, Seokjin says and pulls his hand back, “you can go to my love and she will activate the magic. Your mark will be gone once you wipe the cream.”

“Oh, I can’t believe that I can still witness this day”, Bartholomew says and stands up from his chair.

“Bartholomew?” Seokjin calls his attention one last time.

“Yes, Seokjin?”

“Did you…” gulps in nervousness, “did Jungkook come here?”

“Jungkook?” Bartholomew says and widens his eyes, “my sweet boy, you do not know yet?”

“Know what?” Seokjin jumps off his chair, “what happened to him? P-please what happened?”

Bartholomew shifts his eyes to his side. Seokjin follows his line of sight and feels hit in shock.

The Queen is before him and the man holding her hand is Jungkook.

“Brother”, he presses out as his eyes fill with tears.

“Brother”, Seokjin gets out and sobs, “are you real?”

Jungkook nods his head vigorously and sobs.

“Jungkook….”

“Seokjin….”

Seokjin rounds the table, Jungkook breaks away from his fiancée. They fall into each other’s arms, crying miserably as they tighten the hug as best as their bodies allow it. Seokjin forgets all about the cream on his fingers, smearing it into Jungkook’s hair as he holds his little brother closer. Jungkook doesn’t care about the state of his hair as he sobs into the crook of Seokjin’s neck and cradles the back of his older brother’s head.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything I said that night. I’m so sorry”, Jungkook wails.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m not angry. Oh, I’m sorry for leaving you. I’m so sorry, I never should have left”, Seokjin cries.

“It’s okay. I’m not angry at you. Not anymore. Seokjin”, Jungkook sobs and pulls him closer, “oh Seokjin, you’re real. I love you so much.”

“I love you too. Oh Jungkook, my brother”, Seokjin sobs and turns his head to kiss Jungkook’s ear. It is the first thing his lips grazed and Jungkook leans into the kiss as a sob and laugh leaves him at the same time. Seokjin laughs with him just as much as he sobs.

All his worries turned out to be exactly that. Worries. Jungkook is alive. He is well. He is free. And he is finally by his side again. Seokjin has his little brother back.

He has to take a step back and cradle Jungkook’s face. The latter leans into the touch. His face is contorted in sobs, but the happiness practically bounces off of him. Seokjin mirrors his state, rubbing his thumbs over Jungkook’s teary cheeks over and over again.

“You’re real”, he gets out, “and you look so healthy. Oh Jungkook, you look so healthy.”

“You look healthy too”, Jungkook answers him, cupping his cheeks, “brother, your cheeks are actually soft. Not fallen in from hunger.”

“As are yours”, Seokjin squishes Jungkook’s cheeks, “are you eating well? Are you warm? Can you sleep in peace?”

Jungkook nods his head vigorously, “yes, yes. Yes to everything. And you? Are you living well?”

“Yes, oh yes I am.”

Jungkook whimpers and smiles, spilling tears.

“I’m so happy”, he confesses in a squeaky voice.

“Me too. Come here”, Seokjin says and pulls him back into a tight hug.

Jungkook squeaks in laughter, hugging him back. The two men stumble as they hug, painting a little circle with their feet as if they were dancing. Their bodies were filled with too much happiness. Only moving around could help them relieve it.

It is Jungkook who breaks the hug, holding Seokjin’s cheeks.

“Did you become a healer? Is that your destiny?”

“Yes. Yes it is. Oh Jungkook, I am so happy and I’m in love.”

Jungkook’s eyes lighten up, “you are?”

“Yes. Jungkook, please meet my love”, Seokjin says and turns his little brother to his love. He tells him her name and Jungkook repeats it with a smile.

“I know you. My fiancée talks greatly about you and I truly love your bathing oils when the sickness season arrives”, Jungkook says, bowing his head at her.

“Oh thank-”

“Your fiancée?!” Seokjin falls into her words accidentally for Jungkook’s confession shocked him greatly, “you found love as well? Who is she?”

“That would be me”, the Queen says and for just a moment, Seokjin feels unable to speak. He gawks at the Queen, knowing that it was rude to do so, but he couldn’t help himself.

“What?” he gets out and parts his lips.

The Queen smiles fondly, while Jungkook lets out a giddy giggle.

“Yes, you heard correctly. We are soon to be married”, he says and hugs her waist as he squishes his cheek against hers, “she asked me to be her husband a month ago and I said yes. We ought to marry in autumn, but don’t spread the news yet. We want to announce it soon.”

“I do not know what to say. Jungkook”, Seokjin steps closer, “my dearest Jungkook, you are engaged and, and. And you’re marrying the Queen?!”

“Yes. Yes, I am”, Jungkook giggles.

“Oh Jungkook”, Seokjin tears up, “I am so happy for you.”

“Don’t cry”, Jungkook says even if his own eyes are glassy. He lets go of the Queen to take Seokjin’s hands instead, “it was you who made it possible. If you hadn’t left that night, I never would have left as well and I never would have found my destiny.”

“What do you say? I barely did anything.”

Jungkook shakes his head, “I volunteered to leave because I wanted to find you”, he confesses and tears up, “I was frightened without you, I regretted our last night together and I was scared that I would never see you again, so I volunteered to be the next to leave so I could look for you. I am sorry that I never found you.”

“Jungkook….”

“Seokjin”, Jungkook breathes.

“Oh my little one”, Seokjin says and cradles Jungkook’s cheeks. Jungkook leans into his touch with sparkly, half-lidded eyes, “you do not apologize to me. Please, allow me to get rid of your mark. It is the least I can do to repent for leaving you that night.”

“I dreamt of this day. I dreamt of ridding myself of the mark”, Jungkook confesses.

“And it will become reality soon. Sit. Sit right here and I will free you.”

Jungkook allows Seokjin to sit him down on a chair and because it was Jungkook, Seokjin sits him down on his chair behind the table. He prepares the cream while Jungkook unbuttons his expensive tunic.

The Queen is by his side, caressing his shoulder. Jungkook places his hand over hers’, looking at Seokjin with his chest bare.

“Are you nervous?”

“No. I can’t wait for it.”

“It will become very warm. Hot almost.”

Jungkook squeezes the Queen’s hand, “I can take it”, he says with a smile.

Seokjin moves his fingers closer to Jungkook’s chest. He is trembling. Jungkook meets his eyes

“Are you nervous?” he asks Seokjin.

“I am.”

“Why?”

“I am frightened that it won’t work all of a sudden.”

“I am certain that it will”, the Queen throws in with warmth in her eyes.

“Yes, me too”, Jungkook agrees and smiles, “I trust in your abilities and that of your love”, he says and looks at the healer with a smile.

One she retorts. Work at the table has stopped ever since Jungkook arrived here. Everyone understood. Not only because Jungkook was soon to be Queen Consort and therefore important, but also because the emotional reunion between two separated brothers moved many Ravens to tears. They shared their emotions well. Some knew exactly how such a reunion feels like, while others still wished for the experience.

The Ravens closest to the table are watching as Seokjin spreads the purple cream on Jungkook’s chest.

“It is done”, he says and turns to his partner, “my world, may you do the rest, please?”

“Of course”, she says and stands up. She bends down in front of Jungkook, meeting his eyes.

Jungkook spots warmth and comfort in her eyes. He understands why Seokjin loves her, because goodness surrounds her. Seokjin has always had a good heart, of course he would fall for someone with a kind heart.

“May I?” she asks.

Jungkook turns his head to look at his fiancée. She smiles, squeezing his shoulder gently. Jungkook retorts her smile and looks back at the healer.

“Yes.”

With his consent, she hovers her hands over his chest and whispers ancient words of healing. The cream begins heating up on his chest.

“Oh?” he lets out, furrowing his brows in surprise.

“Is it bearable? It will still get hotter”, she makes sure.

“Yes, it’s just really warm”, Jungkook says and shifts. The Queen gives his shoulder little caresses of encouragement, “oh. Oh, it’s getting very warm. Oh, it feels really hot.”

“You are almost done”, Seokjin says and holds his hand, “you are very brave.”

Jungkook forgets all about the discomfort and looks at Seokjin. The familiarity of those words. It tightens his throat in emotion. Seokjin said them to him countless times before when they were children and Jungkook needed comfort. When he woke after a nightmare about his dead parents and cried in Seokjin’s arms, he always whispered them to him. When he hid and sobbed after a punishment, Seokjin always found him and said them to him as he mended his wounds. When the Black Forest shook his body in fear and the two boys stayed with each other for support, Seokjin repeated them like a mantra until the monsters didn’t feel so scary anymore. They fell often between the two boys and yet they never lost their meaning. Jungkook missed hearing them and in this moment he feels as if he could do anything.

“It is done.”

“Really? Already?”

Seokjin nods his head.

Jungkook looks at the piece of cloth Seokjin offers him.

“Wipe the cream away.”

Jungkook slips his hand from the Queen’s loving hold and accepts the cloth. He looks at his own chest as best as possible and wipes at the cream. It is an easy task to remove it.

“No”, Jungkook gasps, tearing up, “the mark is gone”, he whispers and looks at Seokjin, “it is gone”, he gets out and looks at the Queen, “my mark is gone!”

“Truly?” she gasps and rounds him so she could look at his chest, “Jungkook”, she chokes out and cups his cheeks. She spills tears, “your mark is gone.”

“It is gone”, he repeats and cups her face. He stands up and pulls her into a kiss.

Seokjin turns away for now, wanting to be respectful. He closes in on his own love and rests his chin on her shoulder, hugging her waist gently. She rubs her hand up and down his lower back, resting her head against his’.

“We are doing something good here”, he whispers.

“We are”, she agrees and turns her head to give his lips a chaste kiss, “are you happy?”

“Yes”, Seokjin smiles a soft smile. The kind which lifts his cheeks, “I found Jungkook.”

“I know. I am so happy for you that I feel like crying.”

“Seokjin”, Jungkook interrupts their moment, “my mark is gone!”

Seokjin breaks away from his love and looks at Jungkook. The younger man is smiling brightly, bouncing on the spot.

“I know. How do you feel?”

“Free. I feel finally truly free.”

“You are.”

Jungkook laughs and falls around Seokjin’s neck, “we are free.”

“We are. We are free”, Seokjin agrees and hugs his little brother.

“You will all be free soon”, the Queen says to the waiting Ravens, “now come my friends and get your marks removed. We held up your freedom for too long.”

“We didn’t mind, my Queen!” one of the Ravens screams from the back. The others agree with nods of their heads and smiles on their faces.

The Queen claims the chair Seokjin sat in before and picks up the bowl of purple cream.

“Come now, come”, she calls the next Raven to the table.

“My Queen?” he seems confused, but she merely smiles at him.

“I am certain that Seokjin and Jungkook have lots of catching up to do”, she says, grinning at Seokjin and her fiance.

Jungkook nods his head, while Seokjin looks at her shyly.

“I will take over for Seokjin so he can talk to my starlight”, she explains and points at the chair opposite of her, “now sit down and receive your true freedom.”

“Yes, my Queen. Oh, I feel honoured”, he says with a giggle, “I am helped by the Queen. I will tell my Mahryon about it.”

“Yes? How is the sweet woman?”

“Same old, same old. She started…”

Their conversation dies out in their ears as Jungkook turns Seokjin to the healer.

“Can I steal him away?” he asks her.

“Of course. You two have lots of catching up to do.”

“Are you certain? I do not want to burden you”, Seokjin makes sure.

“I am certain. Go, my beloved. I have my friend helping me”, she says.

“Thank you so much”, he says and kisses her lips, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“I promise to return him by nightfall”, Jungkook jokes, making her laugh.

She rubs his arm sisterly, “I am certain you will.”

He gives her one last grin then turns to Seokjin.

“Do you want to see my rooms?”

“Of course I do.”

“Come, follow me.”

The Queen and the healer watch as the two men hurry over the courtyard. They managed around half of the way when they watch Seokjin take Jungkook into a gentle headlock, which the younger man fights off with gentle punches into Seokjin’s side. The two men continue to stumble to the castle as they playfight each other. It is as if no time had passed between them.

“I am happy that they found each other again”, the Queen says.

“Yes, me too. Brighter days will be on the horizon for them.”

“Indeed, there will be.”

Jungkook turns, holding the golden door knob between his fingers. Seokjin is looking at him after having scanned the hallways. The castle hasn’t changed since the last time he was here. At least not what the eye can see, the heart can sense times of love in those hallways. Jungkook and his love must have filled them up day by day.

“Welcome to my chambers”, Jungkook says and opens the door. He steps inside the room. Seokjin follows, letting out gasps of utter bafflement.

Jungkook closes the door and bounces as he rounds Seokjin.

“And? What do you think?”

Seokjin doesn’t know where to look first. Jungkook’s room looks like a golden dream of riches and wealth. The stone walls were covered in oil paintings and hand-woven tapestry. One even showed Jungkook’s portrait in warm colours. Golden thread framed the portrait in shapes of ornamental flowers and leaves. The otherwise cold stone floors were covered in thick hand knotted carpets all held in shades of red, green and gold and warm furs truly managed to keep the cold from meeting the feet. Thick curtains framed the windows and the same fabric - it looked expensive - also served as curtains for Jungkook’s bed.

The bed was of impressive size. Made from the sturdiest of wood and with a canopy. Countless pillows covered the head end of the bed and a warm blanket was placed neatly over the mattress for later use.

“I don’t know what to say. This is….”

“Do you like them? These are my chambers. I spend some time here, but I must confess that I spend more time in my fiancée’s room”, Jungkook explains and giggles, “I love to hold her as we fall asleep.”

“I understand you so well. I love to hold mine as well”, Seokjin says and continues to scan the room, “I can’t believe my own eyes…”

There is a fireplace in one corner of the room. A red chaise lounge asks to be used right in front of it and a small side table made of sturdy wood offers jugs of wines and meads. In another corner, a working table offered heaps of books and stacks of drawings. Jungkook seems to use it for art and studying. Sturdy bookcases were filled with books, art supplies and expensive trinkets and in handmade wall mount, Jungkook’s swords were presented.

“Do you like it? You are so quiet”, Jungkook asks, fumbling nervously.

“Because I am lost for words. All of this…it looks so…so expensive.”

“It is. I think. She doesn’t tell me how much she spends on me”, Jungkook shies away, “I think it’s a lot.”

Seokjin meets his eyes. Jungkook’s cheeks are flushed. Seokjin smiles.

“Good. You deserve all the riches in the world.”

“Oh, uhm”, Jungkook flusters. He clears his throat, “I want to show you more. Look what I have.”

Seokjin follows him past some sturdy curtains of red fabric into a spacious bathing room.

“This is bigger than both our bedroom and bathing room together”, Seokjin gasps, widening his eyes.

“It is so big, isn’t it?” Jungkook agrees with a laugh, “and look. In all these shelves I store my jewellery. She always gets me stuff, even though I never ask for them. I don’t store my clothing here because I have my own room for them and Bartholomew tells me that it is important to keep fabrics away from moist bathing air because of mould, but I like to keep my jewellery here because then I can come here and look at them.”

“This is just….wow…”

“Then over here is where I take care of my skin”, Jungkook says and sits down in front of his mirror table. He mimics applying cream on his face, pouting for it, “like this. And then I go like this and pat it in”, he says, slapping his own cheeks gently, “and then one of my servants brushes my hair or I have my love brush my hair. I really like it when she does that.”

Jungkook stands up and hurries to his bathing room chaise lounge. He lies down on it, stretching out his legs.

“This is where I lie when I do a facial pack and someone massages my feet”, he sits up, “did you know that all of your body’s zones are connected to your feet and that by regularly massaging them, you become healthier?”

“I did. I learned about it during my apprenticeship”, Seokjin says.

“Isn’t it remarkable?”

“It is”, Seokjin says and looks at the bathtub, “you even have a tub. You truly have everything, haven’t you?”

“Ah yes, this is my tub”, Jungkook says, scrambling to his feet. He runs to it and slaps his hand on its edge. It makes a metal sound of impact, “I take baths with my love in here. We love to use your bathing oils.”

“You do?”

Jungkook nods his head excitedly, “my favourites are vanilla and wolf lily. I think they smell really nice.”

“Thank you”, Seokjin says and lowers his head as he studies the bathtub. He strokes his hand over the edge.

Jungkook gnaws on his lower lip nervously, taking a small step closer.

“Do you not like it?” he asks quietly.

“No, no it’s not that”, Seokjin says, shaking his head.

“But?”

“I always wanted to have a bathtub.”

“Do you not possess one?” Jungkook gasps.

“No. Well, at least not yet. We are trying to save up as much as possible, but a good bathtub is expensive these days. We want one in which we both fit.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Jungkook says and takes Seokjin’s hands so he can sway them excitedly, “I can buy you whatever bathtub you wish for.”

“What? No”, Seokjin shakes his head, “no, you don’t have to do this.”

“I want to.”

“No, Jungkook no. This, this”, Seokjin exhales sharply, “these are your riches. I do not want to rob you of them.”

“Rob me?” Jungkook snickers, “you could never rob me. You’re my brother”, he smiles sweetly.

Seokjin feels his heart warm at the sight.

“And I want you to possess the grandest, most luxurious bathtub in the whole Queendom. No”, he grins, “the whole continent.”

Seokjin smiles, letting out a breathy chuckle of fondness. Jungkook snickers, scrunching his nose.

“Sooo? What say you?” he asks, nudging Seokjin’s chest as he wiggles his brows.

“You won’t accept a No either way, will you?”

Jungkook shakes his head, smiling with his eyes so brightly, they sparkle.

“Fine”, Seokjin gives in, “fine, I’ll allow you. By Frenya, how should I bring the news to my love?”

“Tell her that your little brother wants to treat you”, Jungkook says and leads Seokjin out of the bathing room with an arm around his shoulder, “and that I find great happiness in the thought that I can make it possible that you and her share warm baths.”

“Oh Jungkook”, Seokjin says and sighs, “you truly grew up so much. Look at you and, and look at this room.” They are in Jungkook’s bed chambers again. It still feels like a dream of riches to Seokjin. “You deserve all of this. Yes, every single treasure in this room.”

Jungkook leans his head on Seokjin’s shoulder, “thank you. Oh my brother, you’re so…” he turns and hugs Seokjin, “…I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, little one”, Seokjin says and rubs Jungkook’s back, “now I have to ask. Can you show me your clothing room?”

“You want to see?” Jungkook looks at him excitedly, “I didn’t know if I should ask, because I don’t want to seem as if I am boasting.”

“You aren’t. Please. Show me where you store your clothes.”

“Okay, so follow me”, Jungkook says and skips to the door.

Seokjin follows him with a fond smile on his lips.

“You will really like the room. It has a mirror and a seat to relax on. Also, so many clothes”, Jungkook tells him excitedly.

“You never struck me as a clothing person.”

“I’m not. I’m really not, but my love likes to dress me up”, Jungkook says and giggles, “she always gets me the latest fashion and compliments me when I wear it, so I really like it that she does. And Bartholomew always makes me clothes in black. I really love black.”

“I know. You always did. It fits your skin tone so well.”

“Yes, I agree”, Jungkook says and opens the door next to his chambers, “now don’t judge me, but it is a little messy in here, because I needed to pick out an outfit for today. I didn’t have time to put my clothes away yet.”

“Do not worry. I don’t judge.”

“Yes, well then. Come in”, Jungkook says and leads Seokjin inside.

“Jungkook, by Frenya”, Seokjin gasps, widening his eyes as the beauty of the room overwhelms him.

It is smaller than Jungkook’s bedroom and its walls are covered in ceiling high wardrobes all bursting in the finest of clothes. On one wall, more jewellery is presented and on the lower racks, Jungkook stores his shoes.

“It is unbelievable, isn’t it?” Jungkook says and laughs, “I always have to pinch myself when I realise what life I am living these days.”

“Understandable. You are living in dreams.”

“Yes, I really am. Oh, I love it here so much”, Jungkook says as he is busy clearing the seat of his clothes.

“It is such an improvement to the Black Forest, isn’t it?” Seokjin asks.

Jungkook laughs, “yeah”, he agrees with a nod of his head, “it truly is”, he says and looks at himself in the mirror, “and now we are actually free of the mark”, he meets Seokjin’s eyes in the reflection, “aren’t we?”

“We are”, Seokjin says and smiles.

Jungkook retorts it, closing the distance between him and the mirror afterwards. He stops in front of it and opens his tunic. Seokjin watches him. Jungkook traces his chest. His fingers still know which paths to take to replicate the tattoo. His skin is unmarked however. Sunkissed and velvety just like the rest of his body and finally unmarked.

“It is truly gone”, Jungkook whispers.

“It feels unbelievable, doesn’t it?”

Jungkook nods his head.

“I know. I spent the first few days after the removal staring at my chest in disbelief.”

“I will do the same. I cannot fathom that it is really gone”, Jungkook says and does a little twirl so he could sit down on the two-seater. He lets out a heavy sigh.

Seokjin sits down next to him, looking at him. He can sense that the emotion in the room changed, he can see it on Jungkook’s features as well.

“Do you remember how it felt?” Jungkook asks.

“The removal?”

“No. Getting the tattoo.”

“Ah. Yes, I remember.”

“I wanted him to stop.”

“I know. I did too.”

“But he said that I had to keep going because I needed to be strong and make him proud. I wanted to make him proud.”

Seokjin studies the regret on Jungkook’s features.

“You were five of age and lost your parents. Of course you wanted to make him proud”, he says because he knows that Jungkook blames himself right now, “he was the adult taking up the role of a parent for your young mind, so do not blame yourself.”

Jungkook looks at Seokjin as if he hadn’t expected to hear such words of comfort and understanding.

“Do not feel ashamed of it. Instead feel anger at Rafkan for giving you such a nightmarish parental figure to lean on.”

“It is hard not to feel shame. I never should have seen him as my father.”

“I know. It is easy to blame yourself, but don’t. You were a child. Every child needs parents. Do not blame your young heart for doing what every young heart would have done.”

Jungkook nods his head in understanding.

“I try not to think about everything he did for too long”, he confesses.

“Why?”

“It makes me feel helpless.”

“Helpless?”

“Yes. Helpless. Helpless because I feel so many emotions at once and it is as if I am drowning because not one of the emotions is good.”

“I understand how you feel. I felt the same as you and sometimes when the day is darker, those feelings return. I cannot tell you a cure to the helplessness because time healed me more than anything else, however I can offer you my shoulder to lean on.”

Jungkook leans in, resting his head on Seokjin’s shoulder just like he did a million times before. There were many nights in the Raven camps where Jungkook fell asleep with his head on Seokjin’s shoulder, while the older brother watched over him. The days after such nights were exhausting for Seokjin, but he never showed his tiredness to Jungkook even if Jungkook already knew. He felt guilty whenever it happened, but life back then exhausted him so much that oftentimes he didn’t realize that it was happening.

Jungkook doesn’t feel guilty right now. He feels tranquil. His eyes are closed and his heart beats at a normal pace. Seokjin rests his head against Jungkook’s.

“You can always talk to me about what plagues you, Jungkook”, he speaks quietly, “I managed to heal as much as I did these days because I had my love listening to me. Does the Queen listen to your griefs?”

“She does. She helped me heal a lot, but I think….” Jungkook takes a shaky breath, “I think that there is still a lot to do. I feel so happy, but sometimes the memories come back. I think about everything he did and said and I look at them in a new light now that my mind is cleared of his lies and I get so inexplicably angry. Then I get sad. Heartbroken. And helpless. Does this happen to you? Are you sometimes doing something which brings you joy when suddenly the memories come back again?”

“Of course. This is how one heals from traumatic events.”

“Really? So I am not broken?”

“Of course you aren’t broken. You are doing everything right.”

Jungkook shakes his head, “I feel as if I could do more.”

“You are doing everything right. You are healing at the perfect speed.”

Jungkook inhales and it sounds steady.

Jungkook exhales and it sounds relieved.

“I missed you so much”, he whispers and throws his hand over his own eyes.

Seokjin kisses the crown of Jungkook’s head.

“I missed you too.”

“You always know what to say.”

“I try to at least.”

Jungkook laughs. Seokjin laughs as well. Jungkook lifts his head and meets Seokjin’s eyes. Seokjin cups his cheek and wipes his tears.

“I love you so much”, Jungkook whispers.

“And I love you, my little one”, Seokjin whispers and smiles.

Jungkook retorts it, “I feel as if all I do is cry. I promise I am not like this on normal days.”

Seokjin laughs, “you do not have to explain yourself. We are all humans with emotions. Today is an emotional day.”

Jungkook studies Seokjin’s features. He always knew that his big brother was wise and knowledgeable beyond his age even if he oftentimes hid his wisdom behind silly jokes. Jungkook could always rely on Seokjin and his words of wisdom were perhaps the reason why the Queen spotted goodness in his eyes all those months ago. Jungkook is certain that if he didn’t have Seokjin by his side, comforting him and guiding him secretly when Rafkan wasn’t looking, he would have become as rotten as some other devoted Ravens. It was Seokjin’s guidance and love which kept the goodness in Jungkook’s heart. He is certain of it.

“I want to show you something”, Jungkook says.

“Yes? Show me.”

“We have to get to the woods for it. I know the way”, Jungkook says and stands up, “follow me.”

And so the two men hurry through the castle until they reached the courtyard again. The sun has travelled quite some distance on the sky as the two men chatted in Jungkook’s room. Their loves are talking to each other. Seokjin and Jungkook pay them a visit before they leave.

“I want to show Seokjin the Life Oak”, Jungkook says.

“Oh yes, please do”, the Queen says and smiles, “you will find great healing in this place, Seokjin.”

“I, uhm”, Seokjin doesn’t quite know what to say because it is still unbelievable to him that he is talking casually with the Queen. Yes, he did so before when he was her guest back then, but this is different. He is a free man and her people and his well-mannered heart tells him to speak respectfully.

“Have fun, you two”, his love tells him and gives his hand a little kiss, “try not to stumble over roots. The tree fairies are especially naughty around the Life Oak.”

The Queen giggles, leaning into her friend, “indeed they are. Oh, how wonderful.”

The healer snickers, sharing in her laughter by touching her knee.

Jungkook and Seokjin soon bid their goodbyes with smiles on their faces, kissing their destinies on their lips because they loved them.

“I still cannot fathom that you are to marry the Queen”, Seokjin says as he and Jungkook hurry to the gate leading to the woods.

“Me neither. I feel so lucky. She is too good to me”, Jungkook says and sighs dreamily, “I love her so much.”

Seokjin smiles, “it feels good to be in love, doesn’t it?”

“Yes. Oh yes, it does. My heart races all the time, I feel warm all over and when I listen to her talk, my tummy flutters.”

“I understand you. I feel the same with mine”, Seokjin says and sighs, “she is the most wonderful person. The first thing she taught me was how to read and write.”

“Yes? Oh, this is exciting. So you can read as well?”

“You too?”

Jungkook nods his head, “my love taught me. It was very difficult at first, but she told me that I learned insanely fast.”

“Of course you did. You are such a fast learner and you are good at everything.”

“That isn’t correct. I hate maths.”

Seokjin laughs. Jungkook joins him.

“I hate it as well. Frustrating business indeed.”

“Yes”, Jungkook agrees in snickers.

Seokjin retorts them. Their eyes meet seconds later. There is a certain emotion in the air. One which makes both men shy away. Jungkook is brave enough to break the silence.

“Did”, he begins, “did your love also teach you what…what bodies can do?”

“Maybe”, Seokjin confesses and blushes.

“Mine did too”, Jungkook confesses with his cheeks just as flushed.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

The two men giggle in coyness, drawing closer as they share in the naughty secret.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” Jungkook asks in a whisper.

“It does”, Seokjin whispers and covers his own eyes, “this is so embarrassing to talk about. Oh by Frenya.”

“Yes”, Jungkook agrees and covers his own ears as he scrunches his nose, “we’re such men these days.”

“Oh Jungkook, will you stop”, Seokjin whines and slaps his arm gently, “you are making me burn up.”

Jungkook giggles, burning up himself.

Jungkook knows the way to the Life Oak like he knows his way to the courtyard. He walks the paths regularly, finding healing in nature and the quiet of the forest. Seokjin feels the powers as well. Ever since he set foot into the dense forest, breathing feels easier to do.

It takes the young men around thirty minutes to reach their destiny. They spend the time greatly, talking and joking with each other every passing second. There wasn’t a second of silence between them as new stories of their lives came to their minds over and over again.

They grew silent however once they reached the clearing where the Life Oak fills the space with her presence. It happened naturally that the two men became silent. As if the Life Oak makes one do so.

“This is it”, Jungkook says quietly and closes the distance to the oak tree.

“This is it?” Seokjin whispers and steps closer to the oak, “it is…so tall. And beautiful. Why is it bleeding black…substance?”

“It’s not hurting. Not right now. Those are marks that She is happy. That She is crying tears of joy because Her earth is healthy.”

“Her earth?”

Jungkook nods his head, “touch Her.”

Seokjin places his hand on the oak tree’s trunk, flinching back in shock.

“What?” he gasps, touching it again, “what is that? Why can I….I-I feel a heartbeat.”

“Yes”, Jungkook says and places his hand next to Seokjin’s, “this tree is life itself. She gives this Queendom nourishment and makes it live. She can talk to every plant, animal and nature itself through Her roots.”

“This is”, Seokjin blinks his tears away, “I don’t know what is happening”, he says and wipes his eyes, “oh by Frenya, why am I crying?

“It is okay to cry. I cried the first time as well”, Jungkook assures him, rubbing his upper arm gently, “it is overwhelming to touch life itself. Don’t hide it and let it happen.”

Seokjin sobs softly, lowering his face into his own palm. Jungkook touches his shoulder in comfort, rubbing small circles with his thumb.

“I am not sad. I just haven’t felt like this before”, he explains.

“This is normal, let it happen. Give Her a hug if you want to”, he tells him and because Seokjin is overwhelmed in life, he does.

He hugs the ancient tree and he sobs as he does. His arms barely take up space on the thick trunk, but Seokjin still feels cradled. As if his mother was holding him and rocking him to sleep. The oak tree sings to him just like his mother would in the rustling of its leaves and croaking of its branches.

“This is life itself, Jungkook. It has a pulse as if it was alive”, Seokjin gets out, “and, and it feels as if…as if…I can’t describe it.”

“As if you are hugged by your mother”, Jungkook says.

“Yes. Oh Jungkook, I miss my mother”, Seokjin sobs.

“I miss my mother too”, Jungkook says and whimpers, “oh Seokjin, come here”, he chokes out and hugs his brother from behind, caging him in between the tree and his body.

He rubs his hand up and down Seokjin’s tummy, resting his chin on Seokjin’s shoulder.

“I’m here. You aren’t alone.”

And as they cry for their lost mothers, the Life Oak cradles them like Her sons, swaying Her branches and filling their hearts with new hope. Their mothers might have left the earth already, but She will always be there for them and in Her, their mothers will live on eternally. For every life form, no matter how small, will find its place in Her endless roots, Her never rotting foliage and Her countless branches. So in a way, as the two men hug Her for comfort, they are hugging their mothers.

“We still have each other”, Jungkook comforts him.

“We do. Oh Jungkook, thank you for showing me this place. I haven’t felt such a hug in years”, Seokjin says and turns to cradle Jungkook’s cheeks, “it felt as if my mother was holding me.

“I know. She is beautiful, isn’t She? I come here and talk to Her often, I hug Her and find comfort in Her. I believe that our mothers are continuing to live through Her.”

“I love this thought ”, Seokjin meets Jungkook’s warm gaze, “it is so beautiful and I can feel my mother. We can feel them, Jungkook.”

“We can”, Jungkook says and hugs him.

Seokjin hugs him back, combing his fingers through his hair.

“Thank you. Thank you for showing me this place”, he whispers.

“There is so much more to show you”, Jungkook whispers.

“There is?”

“Do you want to see?”

“Yes. Yes, of course I do. Oh Jungkook, please show me everything in your life.”

Jungkook steps back and gives Seokjin a loving smile before turning his back to him. He takes a deep breath and calls into the silence. Seokjin watches him with parted lips.

Jungkook finishes his calls with a content sigh and his eyes glancing at Seokjin bashfully.

“What did you do?” Seokjin asks him.

“I called for them.”

“For who?”

The forest grumbles and cracks. The small trees and thick shrubs begin dancing. Seokjin inches closer to Jungkook in fear.

“Someone is coming”, he whispers.

“I know. It’s them.”

“Them?”

Woltron steps out of the shadows. His pack follows. They build a circle around Jungkook and Seokjin, growling deeply.

“What is that? Jungkook, we need to flee”, Seokjin gasps and tries to tug Jungkook away.

Jungkook stumbles and laughs, tugging Seokjin back.

“Don’t be frightened. They’re my friends.”

“Your friends? Jungkook, this is Woltron and His pack, he will eat us.”

“No, he won’t. Look”, Jungkook says and slips out of Seokjin’s tight grasp to walk to Woltron.

“Jungkook. No”, Seokjin gasps, reaching for him but grabbing air. He has to watch with horror as Jungkook places his hand on Woltron’s nose, “I can’t watch this”, Seokjin chokes out and squeezes his eyes shut.

There is silence for a few seconds, then Jungkook speaks all of a sudden.

“Open your eyes.”

Seokjin follows even if he is scared.

“What?” he gasps.

Jungkook is sitting atop of Woltron, carrying a smile on his face.

“They’re my friends”, he says and taps Woltron’s shoulder, “Woltron, this is my big brother Seokjin.”

Woltron closes the distance between him and Seokjin. Seokjin tries to stumble back, but collides with the nose of another wolf.

“Forgive me!” he squeaks and jumps away, which makes him collide with Woltron’s nose, “ah! Forgive me! Please, don’t eat me!”

Jungkook laughs, “calm down, brother. They don’t want to eat you. Take a deep breath and look into Woltron’s eyes.”

“But-”

“Trust me.”

Seokjin studies Jungkook’s features.

“Trust me”, the younger man repeats and smiles.

It gives Seokjin enough strength that he takes a deep breath and then meets Woltron’s piercing gaze. The wolf growls deeply, keeping Seokjin hostage. Seokjin trembles and shakes, forgetting all about breathing until Woltron breaks eye contact. The wolf lets out a low grumble and lifts his head. He turns his side to Seokjin.

“See? You’re their friend now as well”, Jungkook says.

“What? What do you mean?”

“Woltron and his pack are old gods. They have been on this continent long before humans lived on the lands. Woltron can look into people’s hearts and see their truest truth in them. He accepted you in His pack, which means your heart is good.”

“Good?” Seokjin gasps, “and if it wasn’t good? What would he have done then?”

“It doesn’t matter. I wanted to show you this place and introduce you to Him because I knew you were good. I also passed their test when I first came here and I only passed it because I had you secretly guiding me. You kept the good in my heart, so I knew that you would pass.”

“But if I hadn’t?”

Jungkook shakes his head, “this never would have happened, but if you hadn’t then Woltron would have eaten you.”

“What?!” Seokjin squeaks, “and you didn’t tell me? Jungkook, how dare you?!”

Jungkook snickers, “I didn’t tell you because I knew that you would have been way too scared. Now climb onto Eudora’s back and let me show you one last thing.”

“You are such a trickster. You didn’t change one bit”, Seokjin murmurs and turns his back to him.

The wolf whose nose he accidentally collided with, lowers herself so Seokjin could climb onto her back.

“Hello Eudora, will you bite me?” Seokjin says quietly, taking cautious steps closer.

Eudora stays quiet, watching Seokjin with half-lidded eyes. Her eyes are emerald green just like Woltron’s.

“She won’t bite. Trust Her”, Jungkook assures him.

“Don’t talk to me. I don’t trust you anymore”, Seokjin jokes, making Jungkook laugh, “okay, I am doing it. I am getting on your back, yes?”

Eudora stays still and allows Seokjin to climb on top. Once he is safely on top, she stands up, forcing Seokjin to squeak and twist bundles of her fur.

“This is so scary”, he squeals, “I’m sorry, oh heavens, eek.”

“Calm down, you are tugging her fur”, Jungkook laughs and reaches over to caress his shoulder, “don’t be too scared. You know how to ride a horse, don’t you?”

“Yes, but this is insanity. We are on top of gigantic wolves.”

“They’re such better runners. Ready?”

“What? Runners? Jungkook, what are you planning to do?”

“I will show you my favourite place.”

“What do you mean runners? Jungkook, talk to me”, Seokjin asks nervously.

“The wolves will bring us. Don’t worry, it will feel as if you are flying”, Jungkook assures him and pets Woltron’s back, “can you takes us to the plateau, Woltron?”

The wolf straightens his head and howls. His pack answers him.

“What is happening?” Seokjin yells over their howls, looking at Jungkook.

“Hold on tight”, he says.

“What? Eeek!” Seokjin squeals and falls to the front in a desperate attempt to hug Eudora as she takes off with her pack, “this is the scariest thing I have ever done!” he screeches while beside him, Jungkook squeals and squeaks in laughter.

He looks at his little brother and how happy he looks riding the giant wolf. His dark hair catches the wind, his clothes dance in it and his face is crinkled in laughter.

“This is so much fun!” he calls out and looks at Seokjin, “sit up, trust me.”

“I hate this! Why are you doing this to me? Ju-Ju-Jungkook”, Seokjin screeches.

“Sit up, trust me”, Jungkook laughs.

Seokjin sits up even if his heart was racing in fear. The wind makes his eyes tear up instantly and messes up his hair. He feels it on his skin and smells the freedom in the air.

“This is insane! Jungkook you rascal, this is insane!”

“No, this is freedom”, Jungkook calls out and lets go of Woltron to stretch his arms far away from himself. He closes his eyes and laughs loudly.

Seokjin looks at the wolf under him. Her fur is reflecting the sunlight, glowing like ambers in a fire. He barely feels her movements, except her shifting muscles under her thick fur.

The wind is dancing around them. The world feels so vast. Seokjin doesn’t feel as if he will fall off. He lets go of her fur and stretches his arms from his own body. It feels as if he is lifting off the ground. Freedom, Jungkook called it. This is freedom.

“Hah!” Seokjin lets out and looks at Jungkook. He laughs, “I’m riding a wolf!”

“I know! Isn’t it so much fun?”

“Yes!”

Jungkook laughs and holds onto Woltron again as the wolf speeds up. Eudora follows, speeding up with Seokjin on her back. Seokjin squeaks in laughter, throwing his head back as the world passes him in blurs of colour.

The wolves take the two giggling men all the way up the Snowy Mountains. They climb the steep stones easily and while Seokjin screeched and clutched Eudora in fear, Jungkook laughed and assured him that nothing will happen to them. And he was right. Except for wobbly knees and his nerves stretched thin, Seokjin arrives atop the plateau unharmed. He slides off of Eudora, colliding with the ground as he catches his breath.

“Hey, are you alright?” Jungkook gasps, jumping off of Woltron’s back. He kneels down in front of Seokjin, touching his arms, “what’s the matter?”

“This was insanity. We just climbed a mountain”, Seokjin gets out and wheezes for air, “I think I might pass out. Did this actually happen?”

Jungkook chuckles and strokes his hand down the back of Seokjin’s head.

“You did well. I know the first time is really frightening. I thought I soiled my pants the first time my love took me here.”

“You did?” Seokjin gets out and lifts his head to look into Jungkook’s eyes.

“Yeah”, he snickers, nodding his head, “but I promise you that it is worth it.”

“I truly hope it is because I think that I might have shat myself right now.”

Jungkook laughs, “you are fine. Now come on, I need to show you”, he says and helps Seokjin to his feet.

“You will kill me one day, I am telling you. I’m too old for such adventures.”

“You are twenty and six of age, brother. You are not too old”, Jungkook laughs as he leads him to the edge of the plateau.

Seokjin stumbles back, squeezing Jungkook’s hands.

“Jungkook, you madman what are you doing?”

“Don’t be scared.”

“This is so high.”

“I know, but don’t be scared. Look. We still have five steps to take before it becomes dangerous.”

“You”, Seokjin exhales deeply, “you have always been fearless. No, I have to sit down.”

Jungkook laughs, joining him on the ground. He stretches out his legs while Seokjin sits with his legs crossed.

“You are okay, brother”, he assures him.

“I guess. Oh, you made my heart race”, Seokjin says and sighs deeply, “first you tell me that a wolf god could have eaten me, then you make me ride on top of one and climb a mountain and now this. Do you want to kill me? My heart is too weak for all of this.”

Jungkook snickers, giving Seokjin a small look before he lets his eyes drift at the view before them. The Queendom lies before their eyes. The Black Forest in the far distance, the Singing River reflecting the sunlight and the Nourishing Fields as green phantoms in the distance.

“But I must say this view makes up for it”, Seokjin says.

“Doesn’t it?” Jungkook agrees, “my love tells me that this is the whole of the Queendom and even more”, he says.

“It is?”

“Yes. Look, the green in the distance are the Nourishing Fields. The river over there is the Singing River. These are the forests of the Castle, the Life Oak and my home and back there in the distance is the Black Forest”, Jungkook explains, pointing at everything so Seokjin could see.

“Wow”, Seokjin whispers, “so this is everything.”

“Yes it is and when you look beyond the Black Forest in the really, really far distance you can see the Glass Mountains.”

“Glass Mountains?”

“Yes, Glass Mountains. They’re a foreign queendom. Their lakes are emerald coloured and all their valleys are filled with trees with ruby coloured foliage. Their Queen fell in love with her warrior and possesses healing magic”, Jungkook explains and looks at Seokjin, “like your love. She can heal with just a touch.”

“Oh. Oh, no. My love can’t heal with a touch. The queen of the Glass Mountains must be a Mender.”

“A Mender?”

“Yes, Mender. They posses magic in their blood, which they can use to heal all wounds and aches. My love needs potions and creams to heal.”

“I see. Menders. I didn’t know about them yet”, Jungkook says and sighs in contentment, “it is so wonderful to learn. We were kept so blind to the world, weren’t we?”

“We really were”, Seokjin agrees, “but we are free.”

Jungkook touches his own chest. Seokjin does the same to his’.

“We’re free”, Jungkook whispers and smiles, “and we can learn all the knowledge in the world.”

Seokjin does the same, “indeed we can.”

Jungkook lifts his hand, pointing at the Queendom.

“Where exactly is your home?”

“I don’t know. I have never seen the queendom this way”, he says, “but I think it has to be around there”, he says and points at a forest in the distance. The Singing River digs its path close to it and a small town neighbours it.

“In this town?” Jungkook asks.

“No, through this forest. There is a clearing next to the river and we have our cottage there. The forest is filled with tree fairies which like to play tricks by growing roots in front of your feet or dropping acorns on your head.”

“Really?” Jungkook snickers.

“Yes, really”, Seokjin chuckles.

“And have you ever encountered such a tree fairies before?”

“Indeed I have. One dropped snow on my head in winter and another grew a branch directly in front my face. I swallowed leaves that day.”

Jungkook laughs, leaning back as he does. Seokjin joins him. Their heartfelt laughter echoes through the whole queendom. At least it feels like that to them as they sit and overlook everything as the mountains play catch with their voices.

“Ah this is so funny”, Jungkook says and sighs.

“Indeed it is”, Seokjin agrees and exhales in contentment.

The two men dance their eyes over the endless view. And while Seokjin tries to take in everything as best as possible, Jungkook studies the area where his brother lives. It isn’t that far from the castle. He will be able to visit his brother often and in return, Seokjin can visit him as well. Jungkook feels his heart flutter in happiness at the thought.

“A cottage”, Jungkook whispers and sways from side to side as complete contentment fills his chest, “is it a nice home?”

“It is the best home I could have ever wished for. We grow flowers and herbs for our healing potions and in the warmer months, our garden is filled with vegetables and fruit we can eat”, Seokjin explains excitedly, “and we have chickens. They lay so many eggs that we can always have fresh eggs for breakfast. The river is always filled with fresh fish and sometimes we go to the market in town and buy meat, which will last us for days.”

“This sounds like a dream.”

“It is a dream. We even have a cat.”

“A cat? Really?” Jungkook gasps.

“Yes, really. His name is Kukuruz and we can talk to him.”

“What? Talk?”

“Yes, talk.”

“How?”

Seokjin lifts his arm, showing a delicate leather armband to Jungkook.

“There is a sorceress in town, who can make these animal talking bracelets and we each got one.”

“Wow”, Jungkook says, touching it gently, “and it works?”

“It does.”

“So you can understand Woltron and his pack?”

The two men look over their shoulders at the old god. He and his pack are slumbering peacefully behind them.

“No”, Seokjin turns back around, “no sadly, you can only choose one animal. We chose a cat.”

“I understand”, Jungkook looks back at the view, “it is still so amazing. I want to be able to talk to animals. I imagine that it must be so interesting.”

“I can tell you from experience that most conversation with Kukuruz are about him wanting more food.”

Jungkook laughs. Seokjin joins him.

“I see. Well, this does sound like what a cat would talk about most.”

“Yes, indeed.”

Silence replaces their laughter like sunlight replaces rain. It comes because it always follows and it feels natural. The two men looked forward to the silence like people look forward to sunlight after long rain. And as they share in the wonderful silence, they take in the views. Their world once reached to the borders of the Black Forest and not one step beyond and now they are sitting atop the Snowy Mountains, overlooking their freedom.

“Should we visit the Nourishing Fields together?” Seokjin asks.

“We could, couldn’t we?”

“We could.”

Seokjin drapes his arm over Jungkook’s shoulder. The younger man leans into him.

“Then we will.”

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streamat4am · 9 months

Note

Writing prompt if you will, when ever you got time.

For t&t au Enid being possessive of Wednesdays time during the day. Hating the time spent away from her, hating the people surrounding Wednesday the usual. And maybe she takes care of that possessiveness during the night 🫣 by making sure that Wednesday knows that she’s hers and hers alone?

Also congrats on making the new blog 🎉 I can’t wait to see everyone’s ask/reactions!

I gotchu!

Tags: fluff but don't be fooled bc Enid is still a possessive freak, usual smut NSFW things, over stimulation. Slight ooc Wednesday etc

Think of this as when they're finally something in the au

No beta bc we die like Enid's morals in this au

Wednesday is beautiful, that's a fact.

Others would describe her as a lovely poison that they think they can handle. Most of the time, she is a prize they can never have.

Wednesday is intoxicating, so Enid understands why so many are attracted. It's hardly surprising with the amount of attention she grabbed with evacuating the students and slaying a pilgrim. Her lil hero, she teases and Wednesday will roll her eyes yet still relax in Enid's hold.

She's pliant like that.

Besides, Wednesday is gorgeous and anyone with two working eyes can see that.

Her dearly roomie is such a pretty lady when walking with Enid to class. Always so prim and proper with her uniform and back so straight. She's beauty, she's grace and she always makes the cutest of faces when Enid sneaks in a peck or two when it's the two of them.

The lovely dear never fails to freeze for a moment, like a rabbit caught by its ears and oh it tempts. Then Wednesday's eyes soften in a way that it makes Enid sheath her claws and she gets pulled into a peck of her own.

It never fails to be sweet, knowing that she has everything she ever needed in arms distance.

But sometimes, people don't know when to keep their hands to themself.

It wasn't exactly shouted to the world that they were a thing but Enid thought it was quite obvious. The jacket Wednesday wears is still soaked with her scent, the mark that showcases that she's Enid is still a raw red so what is she doing wrong?

Ah.

It clicks and the answer is so obvious it has her face palming.

They aren't werewolves so clearly they wouldn't know better. They can't see the way they're bonded either, not with the way the nevermore collar shielded it from sight.

It's standard procedure to stay clear of a recent mated pair. The relationship is too raw, studies say. Don't want to risk a feral werewolf doing something it might regret simply because a threat came walking in, others joke.

Except, no one knew that they were a mated pair. Werewolves mate with werewolves after all but there were rumors and people in nevermore knew better than to get in Enid's way.

But there were a few exceptions, one of them being Wednesday's childhood friend and transfer student for past two weeks; Joel.

Enid frankly stopped caring about him the moment her teeth sunk into that pretty skin. She forgot he even existed until he walked up to the table this morning actually.

He was practically a normie boy, what harm could he do? She thinks. Thinking back on it now, maybe she got a bit carried away with the way she treated him. Maybe he was in the same boat as Eugene?

Tyler was practically a normie boy too, it whispers. Didn't stop him from getting close to Wednesday, did it?

The image has Enid pausing.

She's better now, she cannot just go ahead and throttle a guy because he had too much resemblance to her mate's ex.

She isn't so insecure.

But then Enid turns to say hi, because she's a new person now and everything is better because she is the one with Wednesday not hi-

Joel is leaning too close.

Close enough that she has no choice but to be assaulted by the bitter taste of medicine and alchohol. So a noise builds up from her chest in retaliation.

A growl.

The two of them pause in their conversation and Enid? Shes aware that this is the loudest and most vocal she has ever been about Joel. Because Wednesday is her own person, she can have her own friends and Enid doesn't have the right to dictate that.

But that's not true is it? Wednesday is hers.

She gave herself that night.

Her mate bared her throat with the loviest of gasps escaping those lips and Enid knew very well what such actions meant.

Enid isnt a pup.

She doesn't throw her hands all willy nilly nor does she shout, instead she coughs and plays it off because she's supposed to be caring. Their relationship is too new, too raw and Wednesday enjoys her independence.

Enid doesn't want to think of what will happen if Wednesday thinks of her as a cage instead of a den.

Wednesday is gorgeous, Enid knows this. Wednesday is hers and Enid knows that too. Ofcourse other people will notice something they can't have, ofcourse they'll still try to reach over and take but this is why she is here.

She's there to make sure that they know who belongs to who.

Enid is there to remind Wednesday that even with all the people she dares let in to her life, her wolf will be right there no matter what.

Besides, they can bask in the image Wednesday puts out in the day because at night? When it's simply the two of them?

Enid smiles, curling her fingers inside the heat inbetween Wednesday's legs.

Only she can have this.

Her pretty thing gasps onto the pillow, her eyes drooping into something thats half awake and something else.

"Enid," Wednesday tries to speak but it's hard to talk when a palm grinds against her clit and those fingers sink deeper and deeper. Her darling has always been so sensitive and the wolf can't help a pleased sigh from leaving her lips when Wednesday grips at her wrist, those blunt nails digging onto her skin.

"Enid." it sounds like a warning or maybe she's begging, the line blurs when she sounds so intoxicating either way.

But Enid slows because her dear simply hints it so. Wednesday is warm in her hold, positively overheating and when she lays her head onto her sweet's shoulder from behind, Enid sees the way her dear tries to compose herself. It's adorable, the fact that she squeezes her eyes and thighs shut at the same time. Absolutely lovely to know that only Enid has seen those flushed cheeks and messed hair.

She did this, no one else.

Enid kisses at mating mark, it stopped bleeding long ago but she is tempted to open it once again, drunk on the memory on how Wednesday siezed in her hold. It seems like her beau remembers too because her grip turned lovely when the wolf noses at the wound, the choked noise that spills out of Wednesday's lips tempting Enid to simply sink her teeth in once again.

"finish what you started," she says, her voice cool as a cucumber but enid feels her hand tracing down to push the wolf's own deeper. "Or is this all you can give?"

Enid huffs, aware that she's being egged on as she nipped at the skin on Wednesday's neck. Her dear hums, pushing herself deeper into Enid's hold. Cute, but a part of her stings at the implication of not giving enough.

It's a reminder that despite being such a lovely exception, she's a mortal like the rest.

So like any good hunt, Enid slowly shifts what's hers into a better position. As always, her needy lovely whines when Enid pulls her hands away but after soft reassurances and promises, Wednesday watches with lidded eyes as she's nudged to lay on her back.

Enid places her hands on the band of Wednesday's pants and with one smooth motion, rips it in two.

Wednesday stares, not quite expecting that and before she knows it, she's pulled into a kiss that has her gasping when her wolf's fingers trace lower.

She's going to regret taunting her like that.

"Enid, Enid wait-" Wednesday sobs and gosh, she must be doing this on purpose because the way she says it has the wolf salivating. Her dear lies like a lovely doll without it's strings, shivering with hair sticking to her face. What was once such determined eyes were glazed over and oh? Is that a tear, she sees?

Enid smiles. She bent down, uncaring of the way that even the slight brush of her skin against Wednesday has the girl tensing as she ran her tongue over the salty tear.

Yes, this is the Wednesday no one else can see.

This is hers, unequivocally.

She is the first to leave her in this state and she will be the last.

"it's okay," Enid whispers and Wednesday couldn't help but arch into the wolf's soaked fingers, pressing her clit closer and the desperate action has Enid laughing. She really said wait and yet here she is, absolutely impatient.

"just let it out, 'Nes. " a strangled noise escapes Wednesday lips when Enid kisses at the newly bitten wound on her shoulder, running her tongue over left over blood.

"Enid-" Wednesday groans and she jerks her head away, baring more of her throat as the wolf kisses up to her jaw.

"Wednesday," Enid teases, sated yet still craving more as she pushes herself up to admire the sight below her.

It's the first time they've ever gotten this far, the first time Enid has ever seen Wednesday cry actually. If she keeps this up, Enid will get addicted to seeing those eyes wet with tears and nobody wants that.

Unless..?

"this is what you wanted right?" Enid wonders, unbothered by the way Wednesday tried to buck away because when she presses her hand harder against that slick heat, her dearest would grind onto it like some bitch in need in turn. "I need words dear," she coos, watching how Wednesday tries to breath and form words while jerking herself off at the same time.

Enid didnt even need to move a finger and the blond decides that Wednesday looks lovely like this. Desperate, clingy, Needy.

"mm," is the half ass attempt that sighs out of Wednesday's mouth and her hands tighten from it's spot on Enid's forearm.

Enid clicks her tongue, disappointed and begins to pull away.

The reaction is immediate and a whine pulls from her dear's lips when Enid slips her finger out.

"yes!" Wednesday gasps, doing her best to nod her head as she pulls herself into the wolf, her legs trembling. "I want more, Enid please-"

The wolf humms, tracing that lovely marked skin with her free hand. What was once pale clear skin was a canvas filled with blotches of red and more. It would ache for days, Enid made sure of it. Which meant that Wednesday wouldn't allow anyone other than her to be too close.

Good, she counted on that too.

Wednesday jerked at the touch, gasping at the way too light touches and squirming for more.

"like a fish out of water," Enid murmurs and immediately, her nails grew and dug into a thin pressure against that lovely skin. Wednesday threw her head back with a choked moan, coming on Enid's hand once again. She really should've kept count, but the way the bed beneath was absolutely soaked was enough of a counter in her mind.

Enid watches with a curiosity as her dear seemingly came into reality. Those hands that wished and clung for more was now pushing her away. Can you blame enid for pouting and palming that pussy? It was soaked, pulsing so fast that Enid knew that she could handle one more.

Wednesday squeaked, her eyes rolling to the back when Enid pressed her palm against that swollen clit.

"come now Wednesday, what's wrong?" Enid coos, dripping with fake sincerity as those eyes looked up at her. "do you want me to stop? Here I thought you wanted more, dearest. You were begging just a few moments before after all."

"No, I do, just-"

Enid kissed at the tears forming at the corners of Wednesday's eyes. Her roomie's fingers dug deeper into her arm yet they relaxed as Enid began peppering kisses all over her face.

"it's okay, weds. You've been doing so well for me," she murmurs because as much as Enid loves to play with her food, what matters is whether Wednesday had her fun too. "we can stop right now."

They stay like that for a moment, enough for wednesday to try and breathe.

"i," she starts before her hips began to roll against the hand still cupping her core. Her hands move from her arm to up Enid's chest and onto her shoulders. "one more?" Wednesday whispers against Enid's lips, her fingers tightening like she was trying to grab onto the railing that can keep her from crashing into the ocean.

The wolf huffs at that, making sure to bring Wednesday into a kiss that has Enid smiling as she pulled back her hand and brought it down with a muffled smack. The moan that's gasped into her mouth has Enid delighted.

Wednesday trembles and her hands stay digging onto Enid's shoulder when she slips her fingers in. Wednesday seemed better now, more lucid as her eyes drifted from looking at the obscene things Enid was doing to her to the sweat that lines her girlfriend's throat.

She was aiming to give a kiss on her neck, maybe a similar mark to what Enid gave her until she felt a rough palm grind against her clit as the embarrassing sign of what they've been doing grew louder.

Wednesday bit down, pulling Enid into her arms until they were chest to chest and her nails dug deep into her beloathed back.

Her clit was tingling with too much pleasure, and it was hot to the touch. How she wasn't crying more than she already was was a mystery to her.

Wednesday notes the way Enid tenses at her bite, letting out a pleased sigh before looking down at the way she takes her fingers.

Wednesday whined because well, it's embarrassing before reaching her end with a jerk of her hips. It's enough to snap Enid out of her trance. "Enid… Mmm, can't n'emore.. "

Enid pulls out, watching with fascination at the way her hand is absolutely soaked before using her other to rub circles along Wednesday's hip. The wolf licks her hand clean before smiling at the way Wednesday looked away, her skin still a lovely flushed red.

"you taste amazing, dear," Enid teases.

Wednesday made a sound. "pleaser," her rough voice says before relaxing into Enid's hold when the wolf grasps at her face and pulls her into a kiss.

"you did just as good, Wednesday," Enid assures and Wednesday sinks into her arms as the blond flipped them over. She can clean the sheets in the morning.

Now? She'll bask in Wednesday lying on her.

First time doing this so idk wtf am I doing so uhhhhh

Enjoy?

Might delete actually bc Jhdakwka I went way too overboard but do tell me your thoughts

#Tongues & teeth au #Writing #Smut #Taser dude #Wenclair #Enid Sinclair #Wednesday addams

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miss-multi45 · 3 months

Note

HII! Do you think you could do the ghouls and ghoulettes with a reader who was getting yelled at by either another sibling of sin or maybe another member or ministry or the church for messing something up. After a long day of getting yelled and scolded out they just immediately go to the ghouls or ghoulettes, (i’m just in the mood for so comfort. i’m awkward with requests but i think ur a amazing author!)

ofc i can!! hope you're doing well now, darling ♡♡

swiss

don't you worry, baby he's got you.

swiss lifts you up bridal style and plops you down in his nest.

the sibling of sin went mysteriously missing after that.

ghouls need to eat, don't they?

sodo

"oh hey babygirl/babyboy/baby i- who the fuck made you cry?"

he heats his hands up reader to burn this motherfucker.

listens to everything you have to say, then hunts down the sibling of sin.

rain

"baby shark. who did this to you?"

one of the only times he's in a hunting/murderous mood

he drowned the sibling of sin.

i'm not even gonna try to leave it to the imagination.

phantom

he knew somebody messed with your emotions, he could smell it. and he didn't like it.

"little ghost..who did this? tell me."

he calls you 'little ghost' because his name is phantom.

he gave the sibling of sin a physical warning.

aether

he could smell it too.

brought you into a hug and sniffed you to sense which sibling of sin hurt you.

he scented you again, to take that disgusting siblings smell off your gorgeous body.

scared the sibling half to death.

mountain

he came to you, effortlessly scooped you into his arms and sniffed you.

you unfortunately did smell of the sibling, so he promised to scent you after he (poisoned) took care of the sibling.

he marked you, too.

omega

"prince/princess, what happened?" he purred as you ran into his arms.

less than pleased when you told him what happened.

that same sibling has more than a few strikes in his book.

don't worry your pretty little head about what he did to them.

alpha

"lamb? what happened?"

you appeared at his door in the middle of the night, almost sobbing.

he let out a guttural growl when you told him.

him and the sibling are sworn enemies, and he knew one day they would go after you.

he dealt with them, and once he was done he left them in the dense woodland around to ministry to be eaten by the animals.

ifrit

"aw, puppy. please tell me what happened, i hate it when you're like this."

after 4 minutes of constant nagging and him rubbing your thighs to calm you down, you cracked.

he was fuming when those words escaped your lips.

left for a few hours, came back covered in blood and reeking of fresh corpse, and kissed you like normal.

aurora

"hi baby- oh. why are you crying?"

lil cutie goes rabid.

she's always had a bad feeling about them, and it's now worsened because they had the audacity to go after you.

tears them apart with her pretty pink claws.

cirrus

"my darling, please, answer me. what's wrong?"

2 seconds after she said that, she smelt the revolting scent of the sibling.

left you with snacks for 20 minutes, and came back completely clean.

you knew she killed them though.

cumulus

"babe. baby. tell me what happened."

won't stop bugging you until you spill it.

sits you on her lap to make you more comfortable.

remained calm when you told her, but inside she was livid.

next time you saw the sibling, they avoided all contact with you.

mist

"hey beautiful, say it right now. just say the word, and i'll murder them."

she'll gladly kill them if you want her to.

you said no, so she snapped their arm instead.

#my writing #ghost band x reader #nameless ghouls x reader #nameless ghoulettes x reader

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silver-coins · 1 year

Text

Please spare me lol-

I had this idea at 2am, and i still think it's neat mkay-

If Paradox Pokemon and the AI can exist than so can PARADOX PEOPLE HEHEHEHEHEHEH

- Arven -

- Bulky bitch, obviously, a bit inspired by the golems from Castle in the Sky

- He could be compared to a Regigigas but he's only strong enough to lift a few boulders that's all ;>

- He can be a gentle giant, still can make some food despite lookin' mildly scary

- He got dem Miraidon claws bro, good for diggin' but he can't flip a finger

- He can resist all status effects if he receives any, can't get poisoned, can't get electrocuted, can't go to sleep by force, ect ect, and he resists a lot of damage (not 100% proof tho)

- he got teefs, he can chomp

- Bag is optional but he can control it, has 3 mechanical hands (one at the front of the bag) to pull out what's in his inventory or do other stuff

- Nemona -

- She's a quick girl, quite thin to be more agile and not held back by the pressure of gravity or anythin'

- Improved hearing even though she already had it xD

- Can climb but can't swim... oops

- Is still very hyperactive but is more vunerable to damage

- I have no idea what kind of strategies she'd use on me if she ever heard me say battle, i'm quite scared

- Still can't throw Pokeballs for shit buttttttt she does have a lil' tool to help her steady herself (how's it called bruh)

- Penny -

- Is less revealin' 'bout her robot body, still wears og clothes from the og Pen 'cuz yeah

- Who needs tiny screen when you can have H A N D P O W E R S

- Can walk anywhere she wants since she can create blue disks of energy to walk like jesus

- Legs are a mix of screen and metal, the patterns can move and change around the + and - symbols

- The bag can be a storage still despite it's sentience, how does she put her items in there, simple she feeds it lol

- Upcomin' form for a silly Cassiopeia form in Paradox form bc that bag has special properties heheheh

- did i tell you that bag's lil' hands can detach and float around? Mostly because the eevee wants to poke your face

- Penny can make any types of emotions with her face, not just show a face

- Why or how do they exist -

A certain goober called Scarlet has a wide imagination, and one time she explored Area Zero to find some cool big Paradox mons but ended up finding the three scrunklies down in the cave place investigatin' the outside of the lab, yeah she brought them to the academy LMAO

#Silver Draws #pokemon violet #Pokemon AU #Silvers AU #rival penny #trainer penny #team star penny #pokemon arven #rival arven #nemona trainer #rival nemona #pokemon nemona

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spotsupstuff · 8 months

Note

I would like to know more about the pretty lady please (Gem)

Gem in an Eye, sometimes referred to as the Witch Lady, is the sixth Iterator built in the Eo group. i was originally gonna call her Gem in Eye as a pun on Gemini (initially inspired by the song GeminEye by The Megas), she was also supposed to be nearby Notos on the map and have that classic witch cap n be a lil mad

she said No to that so now she is mainly inspired by the greek witch goddess Hecate. here's she n her voice claim (song: Čerešne [Cherries] by Hena Hegerová)

her iterations often include crystals and botanical stuff. Fish is the one who can tell you about all the spiritual effects of a wheel flower, but his knowledge started in studying Gem's notes which he later expanded upon himself and She is the one to go to if you need to know how to grow a wheel flower naturally, basically. she also likes making poisons out of her flora and, unfortunately, poisoning wild animals that are an annoyance to her. to see what will happen while also getting rid of them

she became the local puppet maker when Gen 2s started coming out. so she Did make Fish's puppet, but not any Gen 1's

she has dull claws specifically to help her with this craft- the organs and such of the puppets are grown first and slowly she integrates the mechanical parts to them during it, all in her labs. when this main naked body is finished, the whole thing is sent to her chamber where she frees it all and puts on the plating, while checking over for any imperfections in the insides like a cog not entirely sitting right and such. after this she paints on the mark/markings and drafts skin on top of all that, waits till it grows over the whole thing, puts it into a new safe fortified test tube n sends the thing on its way to the new Iterator structure

she's a close "friend" of Expiation n Spore and is the main reason why Notos ended up having to manipulate Spore to get into their friend group and right Gem's bastardness to actually help with Mission Self-preservation

even though the Mission would've helped Spore with her fungi sickness, Gem didn't give half a shit n was content to just sit back n let everyone else do the work while she iterates as normal n reaps the Mission's benefits this disgusting manipulative kind of shit she does to Moon too, but only in that giant global Gen 1 chat so it isn't as pressing as what poor Spore is going through cuz of this younger bitch

it's sort of impressive that she manages to manipulate Iterators older than her, cuz Itties have a strong sense of need to follow, listen and respect their elders, usually. hierarchy machines ✊😔 doin smth like this isn't supposed to be really possible

Boreas hates her guts because he Sees her manipulation bullshit n she likes pissing him off since she can't manipulate him

so basically she's this pretty witch devil god who does horrid things but Apparently is kind of "silly" about it. she refuses to act seriously or threateningly or more... Elegantly i suppose, when i'm doing stuff with her, so i guess...

#spot says stuff #rw #oc tag #oc: filler iterators #replacing poison ivy with gem in any lego batman game would be so so fitting #by all accounts Gem is an actual mom of all Gen 2 n 3 puppets but lets not think about that #GJLKSAMVLKDGJK ITERATOR COOCH 💪 GJLKDSMCLKDSMGLK dammit i thought about it #mother gothel kind of shit except she giggles about it n is flamboyant. cuz unlike that disney bitch she is doing this only for her own-#-enjoyment rather than a perceived need created by obsession

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cina-buni · 1 year

Text

Verbatim

Ghost x fem!reader

♡A/N♡ This isn't well edited and I kinda hate this but I refuse to look at it any longer

♡WORDS♡ 1,196K

♡TAGS♡ angst, a lil ooc ghost, ghost calling you sick, ghost thinking that his feelings are an infection, alcohol, drunk characters, fem reader

You’re new, not new to the game- you’re far too good at what you do for that to be the case. You’re new to the task force, to the 141, to Ghost. He isn’t used to you- your mannerisms and personality are still unknown- yet there’s something off. A puzzle piece that doesn’t quite fit, its edges dulled from being forced into place far too many times. The picture is worn, unrecognizable from the years. It’s not that he doesn’t trust his captain’s- Price’s- judgment. It’s just that he doesn’t trust you- or, perhaps, the real reason is that he doesn’t trust what you’re hiding. Soap seems to enjoy your presence if the flirting and playful jabs are anything to go by. Same for Gaz, who Ghost finds to gravitate towards you, pulled into your orbit by your kind demeanor and pretty eyes. Your pretty, dull eyes. A crack in the beautiful mask you wear so well. Ghost sees the fissure in the porcelain. Familiar with the broken smile you wear so well. It reveals the sick skin underneath, discolored from a disease he knows well. Grief- and the rage that comes with it.

You smile at something Gaz says, eyes crinkling as they should. A hand raises to cover your mouth as you laugh at Soap chugging his beer, the sound is perfect and wrong all at once. Ghost is in the shadows of the pub you’ve all decided to celebrate in. His eyes watch you, the beer in his hand- the one he’s had since he got here- lukewarm now. Cold eyes roam over your face, your unsteady feet, the way you lean your hand onto the bar to keep your balance. There’s a warmth to your face, cheeks flushed from the steady flow of beer that's given to you. Not that you’ve attempted to slow down. You gulp the poison down as if you have the antidote hidden in your pocket. The infection behind your mask is leaking out slowly, the smile on your face becoming duller and duller as the night goes on. Ghost watches your eyes dart to the timer on the TV above the bar, a countdown to the new year. Ten ‘til this year was over.

Another empty glass is sat down on the bar, the rim sticky with the gloss you’d smeared across your lips- a pretty pink that matched the dress you wore. The remnants of it are around your mouth, the dress now bunched and wrinkled. Soap begins to holler for the bartender to ‘give the lass another’- Gaz pulling him back before he falls over. The mask is slipping, and the only thing holding up is your hand as you desperately fight to keep the sickness at bay. The glass that’s sat in front of you is snatched up by your shaking hands, half of the amber liquid downed in one gulp. Cheers come from the men next to you, Soap’s hand clapping you on the back. You pay it no mind, the grin on your face lopsided, teeth bared.

Your eyes are pulled back to the clock, tongue licking the foam from your lips. Five minutes are left now, the new year closer than before. The hand around your glass tightens, attempting to stay the tremor there. Ghost watches you grasp for control, pushing back whatever is clawing up your throat. Something has gone wrong- so very wrong. Gaz and Soap are far too gone to notice how not-right you are. How far you’ve dropped, the alcohol making a very slippery slope. Ghost feels shockingly connected to you, to the desperation you have fighting against demons no one else can see. He understands that fight, attempting to fix what was created broken. The sickness inside of him yearns for yours- to twist together until his misery and yours are one diseased beast. He wants to be infected, finding himself far more curious about the taste of your illness on his tongue than he’d like. How sick are you? How sick is he?

Soap starts the chant first, his accent thickened and slurred from the alcohol swimming in his system. Gaz follows suit, wrapping an arm around you and Soap. A grin that looks more like a grimace appears on your face as you chant along with them, your tone off. People in the bar crowd around you, getting closer to the TV. Nine appears on the screen and you look like you’re being smothered. Eight and you’re attempting to pull yourself from Gaz. Seven, you’re fighting your way through the crowd, Gaz seemingly unfazed. You’re pushing the door open as it hits five. You’re gone before four hits. Ghost lets you leave, watching your back disappear through the door. Three, two, one, and ‘Happy New Year’ erupts from the crowd. The crowd shifts like one living being, Soap and Gaz at the very center as they shout. Ghost leans towards the table next to him, clinking his half-empty beer against the full one that's there.

It’s three in the morning by the time they’ve reached the base, Gaz and Soap slumped up against each other in the back of the jeep they’ve borrowed. Ghost leaves them there to pick themselves up, walking into base before either can call to him. The night has gone on for too long, irritation has seeped under his skin as he treads to his room. The sound of running water halts him, his head turning towards the showers. There isn’t light underneath the door. He enters, expecting to tell off whoever is in there. Instead, he sees your clothes on the bench in the locker room before the showers. Your dull eyes go through his mind. They spread in his mind like an infection- forcing him into the showers- to you. A soft, wet gasp bounces against the tiles around him.

He finds your body bent over your knees on the ground, your hands clawing at the tiled wall. Your body’s convulsing, shoulders quivering as you attempt- and fail- to quiet yourself. The dark of the room hides most of you’re body, the moon the only light in the room. He watches you for a second, watching the grief win over you. The mask has shattered, splinters lay at your feet leaving you at the mercy of your grief. He walks to you then, paying no mind to the water splashing against him. A wet choking sound leaves you as he stands next to your curled up. Your hand pushes at his shin, a weak attempt at pushing him away. Wishing he’d leave you in this rotten, wet heap of a broken girl. He sits down, completely soaked as he sets a gentle hand on your back. Through your hiccups, he hears you attempt to speak. Your lungs unable to get enough air, the sobs too powerful now. He grabs you, maneuvering you into his lap with your head under his chin. He wraps his arms tightly around you, your hands clinging onto his hoodie as a child would. He allows your grief to wash over him, swirling down into the drain with the water that runs over you both.

#ghost x reader #simon 'ghost' riley #simon riley #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #simon riley x reader

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fandomsnfluff · 1 year

Note

If you wanna chat, which brother do you think has the most ticklish horns/wings/tails? I think the hc that their demon attributes are ticklish is super cute :)

HI HELLO YES I WOULD LOVE TO sorry i had a final to do today so i was gone yesterday oops 😭 BUT I'M HERE NOW HAHA (and guess what since i'm writey i made a lil mini hcs post since i really couldn't decide !!!! ;o; )

luci - i'd say his horns are more sensitive to touch generally rather than ticklish, maybe around the base if you gently dig your nails in a bit, but overall he's not used to having them touched and could potentially find horn massages soothing. his wings, on the other hand, can actually be quite ticklish if you gently dig into the center of them like with your hands in the claws shape lol. also noticeably shivers if you gently trace along a single feather.

mammon - i'd say his horns are probably the most ticklish of the brothers lol (if not just the most ticklish brother generally sdfjkhsdf). idk just looking at their curled shape gives me really strong ticklish vibes, like if you drag the pad of your finger along them he'll be reduced to hiccupy giggles before curling in on himself skjdhfsd. his wings are probably highly ticklish too, digging in between the bones will DESTROY him. be careful tho cuz they're thin and bony and might hurt if you get like RIGHT on the bones 😭

levi - his horns are much more ticklish-sensitive to light touches, touches with more pressure give him more of a massage-like sensation. it's similar with his tail, too; feather-light touches especially along the middle and end of his tail will absolutely cause him to thrash and scream with laughter.

satan - similar to lucifer, he strongly prefers to have his horns massaged and has that general sensation along them anyway. his tail isn't hyper-sensitive to touch imo, bc personal hc that it's covered in poisonous spikes that don't have very many nerve endings.

asmo - EXTREMELY ticklish wings and horns. like tbh they're probably more sensitive than any other part of his body. just the lightest touch along either of them, especially when he's not looking, is enough to send him into a fit of wailing laughter. but i'm here to encourage you to do it anyway 👀

beel - i'd imagine touching along his horns gives him kind of a feather-light, almost tingling sensation, not quite ticklish but still a satisfying feeling nonetheless. it usually ends up feeling like a massage to him, his cheeks turn a light pink and he'll purr while brushing up along your hand. but be careful with his wings, they're highly delicate and sensitive to touch in the way where he prefers to just not have them touched at all.

belphie - massaging his horns is a great way to get him in a good mood, they might tickle a bit around the center, right where they curl away from his head, but more often than not he'll just fall asleep under your fingers. his tail, on the other hand, can actually be quite ticklish! of course, he uses the end as a secret weapon for himself, but if you flutter your fingers along the hairs at the end it'll SEND him. that technique will probably get the best reaction out of him, for gently combing your fingers through the fur on the rest of his tail will most likely be met with purring, maybe a few ticklish giggles.

#obey me!#obey me #obey me headcanons #headcanons #noah rambles #anonymous #ask

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davnittbraes · 1 year

Text

The Second Step - Chapter Fourteen

Part of The World Is Light, Embodied.

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 4600

Warnings etc: anxiety, angst, anxiety attack, mentions of past violence, S M U T incl a lil bit of rough manhandling, author reader clearly has a voice kink, like five seconds of thinking about restraints, squirting, Mando is the Fingering King and nothing will convince me otherwise, also has a begging kink because he needs to know he’s wanted, Fun With Mando’a, LOL should probably mention unprotected P in the V stuff but there’s a sci fi prophylactic implant involved

Notes: Time for a break from all this heavy emotional shit, these two need to let off some steam 😉

You hover in the doorway of Mando’s bunk, watching the kid take his first deep breath of true sleep. The curl of his tiny claws loosens around the body of the stuffed frog as his limbs relax, and you carefully tuck one of the frog’s legs into the hammock when it shifts with the movement.

Stepping back, you lean a shoulder against the wall, keeping your voice low. “Fifty years old, huh? Still so much a child. His species must age very slowly.”

Mando is quiet, a still, silver and dark form in the dim night cycle light of the hold. You know he’s thinking about something, can tell by the tilt of the helmet and the set of his shoulders, but you don’t push. He’s told you so much already tonight, it’s ok if he doesn’t want to talk about it anymore.

You don’t need to know all of his secrets to know that he trusts you.

And that he cares about you.

A soft sigh floats through the modulator, black visor turning to look at you. “Maybe. Or it could have to do with his powers.”

“Powers?” The word comes too loud in your surprise and you bite your lip.

Kriff. Get a hold of yourself.

Yeah ok sure. But powers?

He leans back against the wall opposite you. “He can lift things with his mind, heal injuries. Maybe other things, I’m not sure.”

Frowning, you sift through memories as they surface. “Huh. Like a Jedi?”

“You know about Jedi?”

His tone is almost incredulous, and you look at him, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t? Sure, the Empire tried to stamp out any and all record of them but the Imps couldn’t get to every cantina in every backwater planet. Stories about the Jedi are favourites, there - some might even be true. Though the one about a Jedi defeating the Emperor always gave me a laugh.”

The helmet tilts in amusement but quickly straightens to seriousness again, black visor turning to look at the kid. “I’ve seen them. His powers. He healed Karga, pulled poison right out of the wound and closed it over.”

Suddenly, a chill of understanding pours down your back, making your heart skip a beat with its intensity. “That’s why the Imps want him. He’s a Jedi.”

Mando folds his arms across his chest, his voice dropping to a soft murmur full of memories. “When I took him back from the Imps, they were doing tests on him. Something with his blood.”

A kind of sharp protectiveness tenses your muscles at the thought of anyone harming the kid, mixed with anger and disgust. “I’ve also heard stories of the Empire’s experiments. He’s lucky you were the one who found him. At least you can protect him.”

“The Jedi can protect him better than I can. And train him, help him use his powers.”

You scoff, corner of your mouth crooking up in a smile. “You know where to find the Jedi? That’s probably more valuable information than the bounty on the kid.”

“Karga gave me a lead. That’s where we’re going now.” The black visor stays steady on the kid, his frame held by some strained tenseness, like he’s…

Trying not to look at you.

Why -

No. No no no -

Dread clutches your throat with an ice-cold grip. Somehow your voice squeezes past it. “You’re going to give him to the Jedi.”

Your heartbeat thumps loud in your ears, once, before he answers.

“Yes.”

Your lungs are screaming for air, but you can’t focus enough to breathe, every part of your mind reverberating with the sound of that single word.

A flash of light, then more, memories flickering across your vision - all of them containing soft coos and bright squeals and tiny claws curling around your fingers and a helpless little form in a baggy robe and big, amber eyes watching you with affection reflected in their bottomless depths.

Not even hours ago, you had finally accepted that this is where you truly wanted to be, for as long as you could.

Right here, watching the kid sleep peacefully, Mando by your side.

Your stomach turns, hot and sick as you watch it all shatter into a million pieces.

It takes a moment to realize you’re moving, legs striding away from the bunk and across the hold, away from the sight of that one thing you had so recently decided you wanted and would soon have torn away from you -

I thought you weren’t going to run any more -

Shut up -

The refresher door slides open - when did you get here - and you step inside, hand fumbling with the locking mechanism as your vision blurs and you can’t see, where is the damn thing -

Worn leather grasps your fingers, stilling them.

“Tionas.”

A shuddering breath wracks your chest, and you cling to his hand, pulling him in, needing his strong, steady frame to hang on to as the room dips and turns.

Silver and black flash across your vision, soft modulated words pierce through the rush of blood in your ears.

“Hey. Just breathe. You’re ok. It’s going to be ok.”.

Your arms curl over his shoulders and you sink into his embrace, tucking your nose into his cowl, breathing in the scent of him. His hands glide steadily up and down your back, coaxing your heartbeat to fall into rhythm with their motion, keeping you close.

It’s a little surprising, how quickly the anxiety melts away, like this.

But guilt quickly swoops in the replace it, pouring from you with rushed words. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t - I don’t have any right to be this upset, he’s been with you so much longer, I shouldn’t -“

“Stop.” The word is gentle despite itself. “He cares for you, too. This won’t be easy, on any of us.”

You can almost feel the pain in his voice, an echo of the sharp tightness underneath your ribcage.

Loss already experienced. And loss not yet felt.

It’s all too much, these last few days have been too much pain and not enough -

The ache in your core flares to life, reminding you of the muscle twinges you’d felt all day, sore in the most pleasant of ways after last night.

Last night.

When the man in front of you had pulled you apart and made you forget everything except him, him and you and the pleasure your bodies created when brought together.

The surge of want that shoots through your body almost shoves you into action, hands twitching with the desire to grasp at him, slip under his layers, feel him -

Boundaries. Respect his creed.

Breathing deep to recenter your focus, you press closer to him, nosing into the curve of his neck as your hands drifts down his sides. “I need you. Please? Can I have you?”

He pulls away quickly and for a moment you panic, anxiety bursting back to life - too much too far shouldn’t have -

Then he’s reaching back, pressing the locking mechanism for the door and hitting the light switch in one movement, and there’s a flash of silver as his hands grab his helmet just before the door slides shut and the room is pitched into darkness and there -

His lips are on yours, breath hitching against your cheek when your hands grasp at his flightsuit, tugging with an insistence you can’t hold back, the arousal pooling between your thighs fuzzing the edges of rational thought.

He cups your face with both hands, gloves warm and soft on rapidly heating skin, lips moving over yours with some kind of desperation before pulling back just enough to murmur into your gasping mouth. “Say it again.”

Oh pfassk -

That bare, rasping voice - so much more thrilling than your memory serves, full of a delicious blend of demand and plea, curls into the heat of your arousal.

Your own voice is already breaking, cracking in your throat tight with want. “I need you. Please.”

He groans, a wordless reply that catches on your tongue as his mouth takes yours again.

It’s an onslaught, a needy push-pull that has you backing up against the refresher wall for balance while his solid form molds to yours, his large hands cup your jaw and his lips steal the breath from your lungs.

His hands suddenly disappear and you whimper at the loss, your own sliding around his lower back and gripping tight to the fabric of his flightsuit to keep him close, not let any other part of him slip away.

There’s a soft slap-slap - his gloves hitting the floor - then his hands are back on you, warm skin and smooth callouses and long fingers that hold your head steady while he kisses deeper, pulling a rush of heat between your thighs and a moan from your chest.

The end of the sound echoes through the refresher as his mouth leaves yours to run along your cheek, press to your ear. “Thought about those all day, back on Nevarro. Those pretty sounds you make.”

His hand tilts your head back, teeth scraping along your ear lobe, his breath warm as he hums in approval of your answering whine. “Had to keep quiet there - still do, kid’s not far. But I keep thinking about what sounds you’d make for me if you didn’t have to stay quiet.”

A hot pulse of pleasure makes your thighs squeeze tight - pfassk, it’s so hot, the low rumble of his voice, dripping with innuendo, and oh kriff his free hand is grasping your thigh, big and warm and strong and it hauls your leg up to curl around his hip and glides along the inner seam of your leggings to -

Your hands fly to the edge of his breastplate, gripping tight against the dizzying rush of pleasure as his fingers cup your already-throbbing cunt through your leggings.

His lips are back on yours, a soft moan vibrating against your mouth. “Fuck, feel you, already so wet and warm -“

Your hips rock into his palm, his fingers press over your entrance, words panting hot. “For you, please, need you -“

Words dissolve from your thoughts as his hand moves, sliding under the waistband of your leggings and underwear and diving between your thighs, long fingers slipping through your folds. Calloused fingertips catch on your clit and your breath stutters, chokes, hips rocking messily into the pressure he immediately applies, head falling back against the wall with a thunk, pleasure sparking over your body.

He presses open-mouthed kisses down your throat as his fingers take up a steady rhythm, words falling against your too-warm skin in a rush. “Can’t stop thinking about laying you out in a real bed, a big one, soft, so you can be comfortable in every position I put you in. And pulling those sounds from you, as loud as you want to make them.”

Images flash across your hazy thoughts, pictures painted by his words - a plush mattress under your body, soft sheets that crumple between your fingers when you clutch at them desperately while he fucks his cock deep into your cunt.

Heat spirals through your core like a whirlwind of fire, making you shudder at the intensity, and you bite your lip hard to stop the cry that builds in the back of your throat. His hand suddenly shifts and the cry pushes loose, bounces around the tiny room as two long, thick fingers breach your entrance, shoving deep.

His free hand presses over your mouth, his groan buzzes against your pulse. “Want you to come for me.”

You barely manage a frantic nod in agreement - kriff yes please - before his fingers are slipping out of your pussy and back in again, slick sound telling of how wet you are.

Oh pfassk that’s so good -

Again and again they thrust at just the perfect -

Your entire body trembles, bright burst of pleasure pulsing the walls of your cunt as his fingertips graze a spot you’ve never felt before, startled moan muffled by his broad palm.

His chuckle murmurs over your skin, shivers down your spine. “Right there, cyar’ika?”

A quick thrust and his fingertips curl and press and -

Once twice again -

Your orgasm rushes through your body, trembles your thighs, yanks the breath from your lungs.

It’s so hot and blinding and -

His teeth nip at your throat and his moan dances over your skin as your cunt clutches his fingers hard, slick gushing around them. “Yes, come for me, fuck feel this pussy so tight -“

Then there’s the release and you gasp for air, grabbing at his shoulders, leg falling from his hip, your muscles shivering with aftershocks.

Sliding his fingers from your cunt, he removes his hand from your mouth to kiss you deep, tongue flicking over yours. Your core throbs again, pleasure flaring once more at the press of his hard cock through his clothing.

Your hands flex, burning with a need, an overwhelming desire to touch, and you have to clench your hands into fists to stop them.

Boundaries. Respect his boundaries.

Pulling back enough to mouth along his jaw, you hum at the pleasant scratch of his scruff on your kiss-swollen lips. “Can I touch you?”

His hands grasp your waist, clutching as if he needs to steady himself. The sound of his ragged breath makes you pause. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. It’s ok -“

“Yes.”

The sharp, desperate hiss of his voice shoots right to your pussy.

Crikking hells, this man is going to ruin you for anyone else.

Pressing a kiss of gratitude to the underside of his jaw, you trail your hands down his chest, beskar cool under your fingertips. Then there’s the abdomen plate, the belt, the coarse weave of the flightsuit -

Your cunt clenches with need as your hand curves over the hard length of his cock through the fabric.

For a split second you debate on just begging him to fuck you so you can get that cock inside you where you want it, but then his hips rock forward, his fingers dig into the softness of your waist, his forehead falls to your shoulder and yes you want this, want him to come apart in your arms.

Your fingers fumble with the fly, find the opening and slip inside.

His moan shudders over your collarbone as you push past the thin cloth of his underclothes and find bare skin and him -

Oh kriff.

His cock is deliciously thick and warm and heavy in your hand, skin smooth and soft, stretched tight and hot and he’s so hard, pulsing against your palm.

Your own breath stutters, lips turning to his curls at your cheek. “You feel so good, let me make you feel good, ok?”

His groan is sharp in your ear as your hand curls around him and strokes up. Moisture beads at the tip and you twist your palm over it, smearing it down his length.

He trembles hard, a hand leaving your waist to smack against the wall by your head. “Fuck, just like that -“

His voice rasps over your skin, low and rough with pleasure, straight to your core and your clit actually throbs with need, thighs pressing together for the tiniest bit of friction. With a long stroke and a smooth turn of your wrist, you pull more moisture from the head and a whimper from his chest.

It’s so hot, feeling him pulse in your hand and hearing him moan in your ear and knowing it’s you making him feel this good.

You want more, want to feel and hear more of him.

Again and again, you slide your grip along the length of his cock, sounds falling from him setting your body alight.

Your free hand dives into his hair, nails scratching lightly, earning you a shiver and a sharp thrust into your grip. Arousal burns across your thoughts, words tumbling from your lips. “Come on, give it to me. You love the sounds I make? Kriff, I could listen to your pleasure, your voice, forever, come on wanna hear you fall apart.”

His hips roll into your grasp, fingers scrape over your waist, groan buzzes against your neck.

Turning your face toward him, you dip down to find his ear. “Your cock feels so good in my hand, in my pussy - wanna taste you so bad, feel this cock in my mouth, taste your come on my tongue -”

Suddenly his hand is gripping your jaw, thumb and fingers framing your chin to hold you still as he kisses you roughly, leaving you gasping when he pulls away.

He growls against your parted lips. “You have no idea how much I’ve imagined that, how many times I’ve fucked my fist in this very room thinking about you -“

Want overwhelms your senses and you’re surging forward before you know it, swallowing his words. He chokes out a whimper that you chase with your tongue, firmly gliding along his in sync with the rhythm of your hand -

Showing him what you would do if it were his cock instead.

He pulls back sharply, leaving you gasping, then he’s grabbing your wrist and pulling your hand out of his flightsuit to press it against the wall by your head. “Gonna make me come like that.”

You huff a laugh, fluttery with need. “That’s the point, isn’t it?”

Humming low in his throat, he grasps your free hand and presses it to the wall like your other one. “I want to fuck you first. Make you come so hard that tongue of yours falls silent again.”

A thrill of anticipation laced with arousal ripples down your spine at his words - and at the strength buzzing in his grip, underneath the surface of restraint but still there.

It’s a foreign sensation, being held like this, pinned to the wall by someone with the ability to overpower you. You’ve never liked being restrained, for pleasure or otherwise. But this…

This is him, and he spills blood to protect you and holds you gently when you’re spiraling and pushes aside his own pleasure for yours.

Somehow that makes it so much more.

Arching your hips against his, you lean in to nip at his jaw, murmur over his skin. “Then do it.”

Your wrists are suddenly free, but you don’t have the time to wonder at the tiny dip of disappointment that skitters through your stomach because he’s yanking your leggings and underwear down your legs in one rough motion. You start to toe off your boots but he’s already spinning you around, pressing you against the wall, holding you steady as your steps falters, unbalanced, leggings and underwear tight around your thighs.

His hands pull your hips back, thumbs digging into the soft flesh of your ass, and you only get a moment to set your palms against the wall, bracing yourself, before the head of his cock is slipping between your slick folds.

Your forehead falls against the wall, cool durasteel on too-warm skin. “Oh pfassk yes -“

He pushes in, deep groan echoing around the refresher as his cock sinks into the warm clutch of your cunt, voice choking off into a slew of Mandalorian words when you squeeze your walls around him, instinctively trying to pull him deeper, faster.

It’s a thick press of pleasure, his cock shoving into your core, with your thighs tight together he feels so kriffing big, pushing into all the perfect places so your eyes roll back and a shaky whine bounces off the wall in front of your mouth.

Then he’s pulling back, slowly, dragging his cock through your pulsing heat until just the head sits snug inside your entrance, and you feel so devastatingly empty, only having just been filled by him but instantly wanting him back.

He leans in close, lips brushing over your ear. “Say it again.”

Your thoughts churn sluggishly through the haze of arousal, piecing back through the previous moments to when this had all started. There, that’s what he wants. “I need you. Please.”

His hips slam forward and his cock fills you to the brim. A strangled cry punches from your chest, and his hand slides over your mouth once more, muffling the next cry as he draws back to shove forward again. “So pretty when you beg, cyar’ika.”

The rhythm he takes up is sharp and quick, almost brutal, offset by the gentle grip of his hand over your mouth and the line of kisses he places down the curve of your neck. The contrast reels through your senses, heartbeat pounding to the time of his thrusts, pulls your orgasm to the forefront, sends a rush of slick down the length of his cock.

He noses along the corner of your jaw, words punctuating by the force of his movements. “Fuck, this cunt, so tight and wet - listen, can you hear it? Can you hear your pussy crying for my cock?”

The wet sounds of where your bodies join drifts through the haze and your gasping breaths - you’re absolutely soaked, now you notice the hot lines of slick running down your inner thighs, glide of his cock pulling more from your cunt, the way your legs are pressed tight together meaning there’s no where else for it to go.

It’s unbearably hot, hearing how much your body wants him while feeling the drive of his cock through your core. Pleasure spirals up and up, your clit is aching for friction but you can’t move, hands pressed tight to the wall to hold yourself steady, and then the hand on your hip shifts, tilts you backward just a little, and the head of his cock slams into that spot he found earlier and white bursts at the corners of your vision, light in the pitch-dark of the room as he draws back and does it again, and again and again -

You’re coming so hard you can’t see or hear or -

Legs shaking toes curling in your boots fingernails scrabbling at the wall -

There’s wet heat and the drop and you’re shouting into his broad palm, knees finally giving out and you start to slump forward but the hand on your hip shifts quickly, arm wrapping around your waist to hold you up -

Crikking hells he’s still fucking you -

The sounds are obscene now, his cock shoving through sopping wet folds, each thrust ending with a smack of soaked fabric against your bare ass, his deep grunts mingling with your weak keening whine.

You’re floating, practically unaware of anything but the pleasure radiating from your pussy, bordering on too much yet somehow not enough.

His voice is in your ear, his thumb strokes over your cheekbone. “Fucking perfect, ner kotyc dala, take my cock so well, say it again for me -“

He bites into the curve of your neck and you cry out, shudder hard, knees shaking with the effort to stay upright. His hand on your mouth falls away but you can’t find words, can’t form them on your tongue, only rasping whimpers that sound like they’re coming from someone else far away.

His huff of laughter is thick with his own pleasure, brushing your cheek as his hand curves around your throat. “There you go, lost your words again. It’s ok, mesh’la, don’t think, just feel.”

Then the hand on your waist slips between your thighs and a fingertip grazes your clit and shocks of pleasure rip through your body, arching your back into his thrusts, high-pitched moan caught in your throat by the warm weight of his hand.

He picks up his pace, fingertips pressing tight circles over your clit over and over in time with the short, hard thrusts of his cock that slam right against that spot and you’re coming again -

Hot wet full tight yes -

His growl vibrates over your shivering skin, sharp with a note of something almost like pain, cock pulsing hard against your fluttering walls and heat floods your core, seeps out around the thick of him with each thrust, drips down your thighs.

Your pleasure finally releases you just as he sinks deep and stills, arm banded around your hips to keep you there, hand gentle but firm on your throat.

A few moments pass, your breath still fast and sharp, exhausted limbs screaming for oxygen, constant shiver running through them.

Then his lips gently glide over the soft spot behind your ear, fingers on your jaw turning your face toward his, and you slump back into his arms as his mouth captures yours in a kiss that shakes with the last remaining aftershocks of your orgasm.

His cock twitches once, twice, still deep inside you, pulling your focus back into the moment, and slowly your senses drift into place.

The air in the room is hot, the scent of sex clinging to your skin with the damp. His arm is strong and firm around your hips, his hand on your throat shifting to cup your jaw as he deepens the kiss. The chill of his armour seeps through your shirt, the rough weave of his flightsuit presses against your ass -

Why am I so wet?

Panic floods your system and you reel with the shift.

Wait no it’s -

Oh pfassk.

He pulls back, concern obvious in his voice. “You ok?”

Amusement and wonder mingle with the haze of spent pleasure. “I’ve never done that before.”

A pause, then he’s sliding his hand down between your thighs, running his fingertips through the evidence of your intense orgasm. “Did it feel good?”

“Uh. Yeah.” Incredulity seeps into of your voice but you can’t bring yourself to care, no matter how strange it sounds in the soft hush of the room and the pleasure haze still floating around the two of you.

His chest vibrates with silent laughter, lips curved in a smile as he kisses you. “Then I can’t wait to make you do it again.”

Male pride is heavy in his voice and you can’t stop the snort of laughter, knowing it’s definitely inappropriate for the moment but when he joins you, breath bouncing off the curve of your neck as he nuzzles into it and wraps both arms tight around you, it doesn’t seem so jarring.

You stay like that, catching your breath, simply existing in his embrace, the feel of his stubble on your skin where his lips press, the twitch of his cock still buried inside you.

The memory of your conversation earlier that night flickers on the outskirts of your thoughts, the pain in his voice as he told you how he’d found the kid. So different from his voice now, sated but light with contentment, maybe even something close to happiness.

Your heartbeat skitters, the warm bright thing in your chest glowing.

Tilting your head to rest your cheek against his curls, you slide your arms over his, squeezing them around your body. “I meant it. You’re a good person, and you’ll always do the right thing, no matter how difficult it is.”

A faint tremor runs through his frame, followed by a sigh that ghosts over your collarbone. His voice is so soft, but it still reverberates through your thoughts. “Nothing is too difficult, with you by my side.”

Your throat closes with emotion. There are no words that convey what you’re feeling, and all you can do is nod once, letting him feel the movement against his hair.

I know. Same.

***** Mando’a translations

mesh’la - beautiful

cyar’ika - sweetheart

tionas - a question

ner kotyc dala - my strong woman

***** Previous Chapter Next Chapter

#The mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x you #The world is light embodied

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oldworldwidgets · 5 months

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i have been THINKING about miss ginny lately especially since the new 76 update dropped, so heres a lil doodle my friend did of her!!! + her if she was a worm on a string, of course, and some in-game screenshots.

i am also using this as an opportunity to dump some lore under the cut :3 its a lot of words so prepare urself

ginny lore be upon ye:

Her full name is Virginia May Adler, but you can just call her Ginny. She's a 25ish (who's counting?) Appalachia native. Though she grew up in the Toxic Valley after she and her dad left the Vault, she now resides at her cozy camp in The Mire. She uses big guns, is covered in scars from all her forays into garbage dumps, and loves stuffed animals and Nuka-Cola Quantum more than most things.

Ginny is very bubbly and smiley. Human embodiment of :D. She’s the type of person that smiles at other people the very moment she sees them, just out of instinct. Seriously, she’s smiled at more Blood Eagles than she can count, and not because she can’t count very high. She can (INT 15 mf). Don’t worry – despite his hatred for the Eagles, Beckett still thinks it’s sweet.

Yeah, yeah, she’s dating her bartender. He moved right into her heart when he moved into her camp. He’s for sure very awkward about what he wants (her) and skirts the subject every time she brings it up, but she knows good and well by the way he settled himself into her camp (and the sweet things he says to her cat Krypto when he thinks she isn’t around) that he’s in this for the long haul. Plus, once they finally mow down the top-ranking Blood Eagles and save his brother from his otherwise-certain demise, he finally allows himself to open up to and fall for her.

She and Aries from Blue Ridge Caravan Company are inseparable. They met in Big Bend Tunnel. She and Beckett were hunting Blood Eagles, he was protecting his shipment from them. His dark, existential humor caught her attention immediately and, on the spot, he enlisted her into Blue Ridge.

She’s a scavver by trade, and a damn good one too. She picks up and stashes everything she sees, then determines its value only after she makes it home. She’s always excited and eager to buy, sell, and trade with anyone who asks, especially now that she's with Blue Ridge.

Since Beckett works the bar even when she’s away, he always catches word of the best weapons caches, armor drops, and any other rumors of note that might interest her. Only after a firm but loving warning and a promise that she’ll return to him before the street lights come on will he give her what she’s looking for. Oh, and the information too. WINK.

She’s also craaffttyyyyyy. She can make anything you could possibly need and more, just as long as she has some duct tape, a few loose screws, and a cartoon cloud of smoke.

She is terrified of heights. She also used to be terrified of animals, especially the ones with paws and claws as opposed to the ones with pincers, stingers, or poison glands. This changed after her dad came home with Krypto, her cat. She hated the thing at first, but when she lost her dad... Krypto was all she had left of him. Now, they can't live without each other.

She frankly does not care about radiation damage, diseases, mutations, etc at all. It’s inevitable in the life of a scavver. She’s probably had tetanus more times than she can count, but it’s never been a match for a disease cure or some brahmin milk. Plus, she kinda thinks it’s cool.

She used to be a natural blonde, but all the exposure to all the [gestures widely] in the wasteland (primarily radiation, but no one’s ever seen her in a gas mask or a hazmat suit – even in the ash heap region. The best she can do is pull her neck bandana over her nose when Beckett gives her his best sad eyes) eventually broke down all the melanin in her hair, leaving it white. Aside from all the junk that somehow always finds its way back in there, of course.

Beckett is the ONLY one that’s allowed to call her Gin and she only allows it because he’s a bartender. He also loooooves screaming “WEST VIRGIIIIINNNNNNNNIIAAAAA” to the tune of country roads (obviously) when he needs her attention and they’re not in the same vicinity, hence him sometimes calling her West Virginia.

After her long scavving or traveling days, Ginny likes to sit in Beckett’s lap on their front porch while he takes her hair down out of the updo of the day and picks out all the sticks and leaves. If a leaf falls from the tree above them, even if he has every opportunity to catch it before it lands in her almost-clean hair and ruins his hard work, he won’t. He'll do anything to keep her there just a little longer.

OKAY THANKS FOR READING LOVE U BYE

#oc: ginny may #oldworld.ocs #fallout #fallout 76 #fo76

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gofancyninjaworld · 2 years

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I've read your post abt what makes one a monster in opm, and I'm a lil shaken bc in a lot of ways, Saitama is eerily similar. Indeed, a lot of strong people abandoned their humanity and monsterized in pusuit of greater power — Haragiri, Gouketsu, Bakuzan, and so on.

I think the reason why he isn't considered a monster despite all that is because he really clung unto his humanity while in the pursuit of strength. Still does. Really, every mundane thing Saitama does isn't really necessary for him to do — like he doesn't need to eat, sleep, seek entertainment, or even breathe. This guy can't even get poisoned. He's so powerful and busted he's not human at this point. But I think he does them bc it makes him feel human and keeps him sane.

It really makes me think — what makes a human, human in opm? Seeing Saitama as an example, is choosing to be human and subjecting oneself to human aspects is what makes one human?

Monsters are really interesting in OPM, aren't they? This ask we're not talking about the natural monsters, which, cruel as they can be to human beings, literally saved the Earth from human depredations... talk about a complex ecological relationship!

Anyway, onto ex-human monsters. In OPM, it's the case that just because your egg and sperm donors were members of Homo sapiens, you can't take your humanity for granted. To a certain extent, your humanity has to be earned. The scary thing is that humans turning into monsters turns out to be a recent thing. *What* has changed, I wonder.

Also, it's not as simple as being good. The horrible criminals in the Stink Slammer never turned into monsters (at least not until some of them grabbed monster cells from Nyan in the hopes of finally being able to make Puri Puri see how much he'd made them suffer) despite being really nasty pieces of work. And of course, the straight-living Amai Mask started turning into a monster despite his best efforts to resist it.

There are risk factors that Dr. Genus outlines, such as a strong desire to transform into something else, a deep dissatisfaction with themselves, inferiority complexes, obsessive habits, and similar issues. Those are true enough, but we know characters with several of those problems who haven't gone monster. I think that Bug God puts a claw tip on the most fundamental requirement to turn monster: separating oneself from humanity. When you stop being able to see your fellow person as a human being, that's when you start to transform. You don't need to grow horns or fangs to be a total monster.

The scariest part? It doesn't necessarily take a long time. Everyone has some darkness within them, darkness that if they lean fully into and let consume them will change them in no time. How close Phoenixman got to converting Child Emperor still gives me chills (oi, future animators, don't you dare elide over this!).

Conversely, we've seen that it is impossible to turn a person into a monster against their will. Even monster cells only work if the person knowingly and willingly consumes them with the intention of becoming a monster.

Now I know that a lot of fans like to act snobbish towards Viz translations (no, they're not perfect but people take it too far), but they have a very interesting nuance in chapter 167 on how Saitama sees Genos and Garou Tareo:

Save. That's what Saitama thinks Genos did for him. Saved him. If you go all the way back to chapter 5, you realise that the separation from humanity process had begun for Saitama.

Just as Garou would have turned into a complete monster, fit only for punching out of this world, were it not for Tareo speaking so powerfully to his humanity, Saitama found Genos, that weird young man who'd given up his human body and nurtured his humanity like it was a precious jewel, to be the anchor to humanity he needed.

I think you have a point about the importance of daily rituals grounding one. Still, with Saitama, one can never quite tell... Maybe he can do without every human need, but what will remain won't be human.

Not in the slightest.

It's good this story is great at making us laugh and groan; otherwise, we'd be quivering in horror.

#OPM #meta #asks #monsters #humanity #Saitama #it's both scary-easy and really difficult to turn into a monster here #I know this isn't the final word on what the relationship between man and monster is #the story continues to flesh it out #but if there's one thing that the story comes back to: it's not enough to be biologically human. You have to also choose humanity #both for yourself and those around you

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colderdrafts · 1 year

Text

Sometimes I like to write some short drabbles from a specific character's pov to get into their minds a little bit better. Here's one of Amren's under the cut - not necessary to read to understand what's going on in TGA. Not exactly spoilers, but I'll place a warning for diving a lil into his background and brain, so skip this one if you wanna keep him ~mysterious~.

Tw for implied abuse and very brief suggestive mention.

Amren sees her, gliding across the mansion with that nasty look of superiority on her face. She has her golden hair up, braided and perfect, the green scales of her tail shining like she just shedded, sparkling in the indoor lighting.

Artificial.

She’s glancing at the people around her like they're assets to her world. It's her world, and the rest of them are just living in it.

He loathes her.

Truly.

And it is mutual. She has never cared for him, finding his large frame imposing and clumsy, his warm brown colors dull, his habits, opinions and interests obnoxious.

He doesn't even have venom. Pathetic.

She sees him standing by himself as he so often does, and he spares her a disdainful glance. He can tell she considers, briefly, if she should approach him.

Leave me alone, his expression says, exasperated. I want nothing to do with you.

It's bad enough he's stuck with her for the rest of his life without her invading his space on a constant basis.

She narrows her eyes at his standoffish look, and approaches regardless, taking his gaze as a challenge. He has half a mind to simply turn and leave, but his stubbornness and pride doesn't allow it. No way will he give her the satisfaction of watching him vacate a space he's occupying because of her.

"Why didn’t you join the rest of us for lunch?" she asks, coming to a halt in front of him. “You’re being rude. Again.”

He hates her voice. The way she speaks like she's trying to sound concerned, but the thinly veiled poison in her words runs so putrid he can almost smell it.

"Because I did not want to," he replies simply.

She narrows her eyes at him and he knows she's considering her options - she could turn this into a fight again. She likes to do that, set him off, get a reaction, trying to coax out the danger that is lurking within him. Give herself an excuse to be violent.

Or she could decide not to waste her time on him and move on.

"What is it going to be this time, Mavis?" he asks. He's tired of her games. "Make up your mind. I don't have all day."

She bares her teeth at him. "It's going to be you taking a little more responsibility around here," she hisses. "Neither of us likes this situation, but you blunt refusal to even try and make things work-"

"Because we both know it won’t," he sneers. "If we both decide not to follow through they'll have to find something else-"

"There isn't anything else!"

"Is everything alright over here?" comes his mother's voice now.

She's turning a corner and slithering towards them, her body and tail full of warm yellow tones, an open invitation – but her eyes, sharp, narrowed and cold, the way she has always looked at him, ensures he knows the facade in and out.

He looks at her and sighs. Of course she'd get involved. "It's fine," he grunts.

"We're alright, Madam," Mavis says politely.

His mother nods at her. "We'll soon be done with preparations. You should start to get ready for the ceremony," she informs them. She shoots Amren a stern look. "Both of you."

He rolls his eyes.

"Don't you take that tone with me you little -" his mother growls, but breathes to calm herself. She huffs and point a finger at him, claws polished to perfection. "Everything's counting on this. Don't you dare try to ruin this for everyone."

"As I ruin everything else?" Amren asks calmly.

His mother pinches the bridge of her nose. "Just so. Did you think I would count on you for this if it wasn't absolutely necessary? For once just stop being a thorn in everyone's side and act like a responsible member of this family."

He narrows his eyes.

Mavis glares at him, alarmed by the look on his face. "You best be there," she hisses. "You know we have to follow through."

It's at this moment Amren realizes something. Something he should have realized several years ago. A slight flip of a switch at this small interaction, that seemingly was the drop that made the glass of water spill over.

He does not want to be here anymore. He does not want to be a part of any of this. He has never wanted any of this for his entire life.

He watches them for a moment, their contempt and blatant disregard for his needs and wants so obvious he doesn’t even have to ask. We’re doing what’s best for you, the lie that has kept him here. You know how you are. You’ll hurt someone without us.

He realizes that there isn’t anything for him to gain by staying either.

So why is he even still here?

Whatever he has done to ensure even a sliver of approval, whatever punches he takes, no matter how much strength he musters to remain standing, no matter how much he hides what he is – it will never be enough. He will never be enough.

Will he really throw his life away for people who never even loved him to begin with?

No. This is a waste of time.

If this is what love is, he doesn’t want it. If this is what it means to be there for someone, he doesn't want it. He’ll hurt someone without them? Fine. Then he’ll just be alone.

Anything is better than this.

"Actually," Amren says flatly, pushing past both of them. "I really don't."

They stare after him.

His mother is the first to speak. "And what is that supposed to mean?" she jeers.

"It means I'm done," he says casually over his shoulder as he slithers away. "You obviously don't want me here. You never did. So I'll be on my way."

His mother snatches his wrist. "Oh no you don't-!"

He feels it then. Coiling underneath the surface of his skin, rearing its ugly head up at the unwanted contact. It smells danger and it intends to retaliate with force. His mother's grip on his arm is scalding, sending a burning rush of anger through him.

He turns to face her, roughly lifting his wrist she's clutching into the air, the golden sheen of his eyes darkening. "Let go."

She gets in his face, seething. "You do not get to just walk away after everything you've put this family through-!"

Out of the corner of his eye he notes Mavis' slight retreat at their confrontation, but he doesn't care about that.

He inches forward in a jutting motion to meet his mother's threat half-way, enough to startle her backwards. He sees the same thing in her eyes now, the flaring rage she passed on to him, coming to life at the slightest provocation.

He knows firsthand what she's is capable of when she's angry.

He knows she can make it hurt, and at one point in his life, he would have fawned and reeled back, begging for her forgiveness when she hit him with that look.

Too bad he's grown up now.

He's stronger than her, and she knows it. He's stronger than all of them.

He cracks his jaw wide open, bares his teeth and loudly hisses in her face, a final warning as he forcefully yanks his arm out of her grip. Alarmed, instinctively, she recoils.

He hits her with a potent furious stare, and he can taste something new in the air as the ferocious beast under his skin snaps to attention, almost reveling in it.

Fear.

Without a word, he turns and leaves them behind.

He leaves it all behind.

Amren's eyes open and he stares out in the murky darkness of Elise's office.

And just as he was about to fall asleep. Why would his brain bring that up again? That was several years ago.

He's grown since then. Gotten to know himself a little better. Licked his wounds and covered them up behind a strong pillar of stoicism. He shouldn't let memories get to him like this, they're in the past, over, he's done with them. They don't matter anymore.

What matters is the present, and the new odd situation he finds himself in. The terrible dangers of the past few days notwithstanding, it's also odd to be forcefully dragged out of your routine against your will and find yourself grateful for it. Elise is a smart troll, she knew what she was doing when she got him here, and it is vehemently annoying to admit it.

Yet another thing he shouldn't let get to him, but he can't stop. He doesn't want to.

He's latching on to that infuriating hum like a lost hatchling.

Sometimes he catches them smile, a genuine expression of joy and sometimes it's directed at or caused by him. Those moments a precious, the fact that he could create something soft, that he could provoke a response that wasn't filled with contempt and thinly veiled indifference.

He has their attention, and it's not because they're forced to give it to him, it's not because they're scared he may strike if they don't stay vigilant. It's because they want to give it to him, a genuine curiosity, an attempt to connect.

He doesn't know how to deal with that.

He's held them close one time, and the fact they were the one to seek him out is baffling his mind. Why would they ever do that? After everything he's done, everything they’ve seen - he can't understand.

They don't say it, but it must mean that, at some level, they trust him.

For whatever reason, this strange creature has decided he's safe to be around. He wants to live up to it. But he also knows that, to a certain point, he can't. At some point, he is going to hurt them. And he will lose that small sliver of faith when he does.

Don't get too close now, an arms reach and you may just avoid that inevitable outcome. Don’t get greedy. The standstill is more comfortable than the uncertainty of when.

They worry about him. They prod and poke and don't back down when he pushes, returning everything he dishes out with force and he likes it.

He learns. He wants to do better, be better, not because they force him to but because they make him want to. What is he hoping to gain here?

Warmth, echoes in his mind. And not just in a physical sense.

It's ridiculous, it's something that's always been branded as a weakness, something you don't get or give out unless you wish to perish.

A single moment of genuine connection is a recipe for being taken advantage of.

Yet they provided him with it so freely and now he finds himself starved for more.

He used to pity them for it, a disdain for that vulnerability. Yet when he was struck by it he knew that he had made a mistake. Nothing could ever be as powerful as opening yourself up like that, tearing off your skin and trusting the person who sees you do it won't cover your tender exposed flesh in salt.

Trust, he thinks. How do they give it so candidly? What is that incessant need of theirs to be close? He stayed in control because of it.

He hears them again in the room next over, tossing and turning, and a slight fearful whimper escapes them in their slumber. He immediately wants to reach inside their mind and destroy whatever is clouding it. He hears distress and he wants it gone. He just doesn't know how.

He wonders if they would let him hold them again - but there's no need. They were just helping him, as they said. But he felt like there was something else there, something besides the fact that he was dangerously cold and lethargic and they saved him from an extremely painful night. He doesn't know what that is, he only knows he wants more of it. But he doesn't feel that he can ask. He doesn't know how far their trust stretches, and he is keenly aware of how little it would take to ruin it.

A slight whimpering again and he grits his teeth, hands opening and closing. He wants to be there, take control of whatever is haunting them, keep them safely tucked in his coils where he knows they wont get hurt - not again. Not unless it goes through him, and not unless he makes it hurt seven-fold in retaliation. It can darn well just try.

The little noises are getting to him, his mind wanders and combines with the thoughts of that night, undisturbed, where he just had them close like that. He wonders what it would be like to hear them make those noises if it wasn't because of nightmares.

Would they sound the same if they made them because of him?

Would they make them when he's coiling around them, feeling their warmth, their hands on his skin, enjoying the friction of their body nervously squirming in his grip as he slowly inches in and pulls them closer - oh. No.

Absolutely not.

He sits up straight, quickly uncoiling himself and getting up. How incredibly frustrating. What did they do to him?

He quietly leaves the room, ignoring the annoying needy heat in his body and heads downstairs to get to the kitchen sink. He doesn’t bother turning on the lights – he can see just fine without them – but the silent dark house brings another level of emptiness to the already growing pit in his stomach. He cringes and lowers himself down to take a sip.

What is he supposed to do? This is getting ridiculous, and he’s being dramatic. Get a hold of yourself.

He runs his fingers through his hair and huffs. He keeps his hands on his head, closing his eyes and breathing out, patiently waiting for the unwelcome emotions to settle. He remains there, quiet and alone in the dark again.

One, two, three, four.

Four, three, two, one.

Eventually they diminish, and a familiar numbness settles over him instead. He's back in control. Good.

He silently ventures back to his room and coils up in a corner. Luckily the infuriating thing residing next door has gone quiet, and he falls asleep once again to the sound of nothing but his breath.

#colderwriting #tga #About Amren #smh Tiny what on earth did you do to him #dicslaimer this is not an excuse for his poor behavior don't be fooled #you ruined a perfectly good snek is what you did #look at him he's got attachment issues #Also if y'all wanna see more of this kinds of stuff lemme know it's fun doing them #Don't be scared to give me ideas #naga x reader #monster romance #gender neutral reader #monster x you #x reader #monster lover #naga #monster x reader #monster boyfriend #exophilia

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