#oc: fates torn again

[simcardiac-arrested]

you’re just like an angel

#hi. goes to bed #myart #oc: needless separation #oc: fates torn again

[spiriteddreams]

thinking about childhood friends to enemies/strangers to friends to lovers arranged marriage with jing yuan. as a child, you could have never imagined that you would marry your "childhood best friend!" and you find yourself caught in an arranged marriage that is nothing but words on a paper signed by both your parents. the older you grow, the more you realize how easy it is to fall in love with him.

but all too quickly, you realize how hard it is to be in love with him. jing yuan decides to join the cloud knights suddenly and is whisked off to war. when he returns and rises the rank of general, he is quiet in calling off the marriage. everyone assumes that the two of you have grown up and decided that perhaps the marriage is simply not right. to everyone else, you both are still friendly with one another. behind closed doors, you meet his stare with icy eyes, demanding for a reason behind this sudden decision. he says he doesn't feel it to be of any convenience to either of you, that he doesn't want to force either of you to be in love with one another but oh how wrong he is.

he refuses to admit that the reason that he called it off was because he felt that you didn't deserve someone who would constantly be whisked off to battle. you don't deserve someone so dedicated to work that he is willing to sacrifice all his time for the success of the xianzhou. your cold shoulder has begun to show in public but before any outlandish rumours can start, jing yuan strikes first. he is snarky and petty with his words until you finally agree to calling it off. to everyone else, and to you, it is a falling out. to him, it is every deliberate action taken to keep you safe from danger, from him.

but of course, he wouldn't expect you to strike back fast, leaving him with nothing but a letter and a promise ring that held nothing but false words and lies. you leave the xianzhou to join a crew called the astral express and are whisked far away from him. but as fate should have it, you return years later, older, wiser, and seemingly colder towards him as if you had just come from a planet caught in an eternal freeze and brought that ice with you.

and when jing yuan sees you again, his first thought is to make amends. they say that distance makes the heart grow fonder so perhaps you'll be just as inclined as he is. and perhaps, you'll let him slip that ring back on your finger like he did when you were young. but when you stand across from him with your new companions, one hand resting at your side and the other looking just about ready to draw your weapon, jing yuan realizes that maybe this won't be as easy as he thinks.

there is new conflict in the xianzhou and you both become torn between rebuilding years of distance and focusing on solving the problem at hand. old wounds are torn open, new friendships are thrown into the mix, and familiar faces from the past return to rub salt in.

you'll make it as difficult for him as possible as you grapple with your own emotions. you are just as stubborn as he is, and after years away, you've learned to better keep your emotions in check. but you're nonetheless a fool around him, and your friends know all too well about the boy you fell in love with. the same boy stands in front of you today as general of the xianzhou luofu, jing yuan, your dreamy, silky haired, animal loving, ex-fiance. oh how are you supposed to hide your heart when it's stitched upon your sleeve?

haha... what went from an oc idea turned into a post studying 1am drabble good night!

#honkai star rail #hsr #jing yuan x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #jing yuan #spiriteddreams writing #spiriteddreams

[0cta9on]

Unlikely Duet - 4

length: +7k words

Genre: Fluff

NewJeans Minji x Male Reader (OC)

(Author's Note: Kinda went crazy with this one, don't know if it's a good crazy or a bad crazy yet. Also, TW: Blood and violence.)

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

Yuno’s POV

The English teacher, Mr. Fillips, was droning on about Shakespeare or some other dead writer, but my mind was too preoccupied to pay attention. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop thinking about earlier this morning.

______________________________________________________________

I randomly awoke in the dead of night, finding myself with my arm wrapped around Minji’s waist. Panic surged through me as I attempted to disentangle myself, but she suddenly tightened her grip, anchoring us together. Sweat beaded on my forehead as the warmth from her body was becoming unbearable.

“Minji?” I whispered. “You awake?” I waited for what felt like an eternity, but silence was the only response I received. Any efforts to remove my arm from her grasp proved futile as her grasp only strengthened with each attempt. I had fought members of the school’s wrestling team before, but all of them paled in comparison to sleeping Minji’s anaconda-like grip on my arm. I silently cursed my predicament, praying to whatever god out there that Minji never found out about this.

She began to quietly murmur in her sleep. Most of it was incomprehensible, but I managed to make out some of it: “Yuno… stay with me… please…”

My face turned warm as she uttered words I probably wasn’t supposed to hear. I tried one last time to free myself, but my body gave out from exhaustion and I surrendered myself to my unfortunate fate. My heart was beating too hard for me to fall asleep, so I had no choice but to lay there in silence, Minji’s sleeping body pressed against mine. I couldn’t help but stare at the peaceful expression on her face, illuminated by the moonlight peeking through the window. Her soft lips curved slightly into a grin and the faint scent of roses emanated from her silky black hair. Even when she was wearing a simple oversized tee shirt, she still somehow managed to look so…

“Mr. Lin!”

I jumped in my seat as I was forcefully torn from my daydreams. Mr. Fillips loomed beside me, a disapproving glare in his eyes. The entire class watched, looks of confusion and fear etched into their faces as they anticipated my reaction. In the corner of my eye, I notice Tyler McGraw and his band of goons snickering to themselves.

“That’s the third time I’ve asked you to read the passage, Mr. Lin. Are you paying attention now?” he asks in a stern tone. 

“Y-yeah, I am. Sorry.” I awkwardly clear my throat, trying my best to focus on the class while images of Minji flash through my mind.

______________________________________________________________

“A-are you alright, Yuno?”

I turn to see Winter appear next to me as I make my way towards the cafeteria for lunch. Truthfully, all three of my classes were incredibly difficult to focus on. No matter what, I couldn’t get Minji out of my head and I didn’t know why.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I lied. 

“Are you sure? You seem distracted. Is this about what happened yesterday?”

I panicked for a moment before realizing that she was talking about the attack and not the “sleepover” incident. My train of thought is interrupted as Yujin spots us from the end of the hall and waves.

“Hey, you guys!” He exclaims, causing a scene. Yujin runs up to us with a goofy smile on his face, attracting looks of disdain as he bumps into upperclassmen in the process. “What are y’all talking about?”

I quickly go through the lunch line and grab my food, the two of them in tow like baby ducks following their mother. My body shivers at the unpleasant thought, only for it to be swiftly replaced by Minji yet again. I faceplant into my usual lunch table and groan, my own mind becoming my worst enemy.

“S-some drunk creep attacked the student council president last night and Yuno jumped in to save her. I think he’s a little shaken up over it,” Winter explains. I was too busy suffering in mental anguish to correct her.

“Wow, Super Yuno swoops in to save the day again!” Yujin beamed.

I snapped my head up and glared at him. “Don’t. Call me that. Please,” I muttered before lowering my head back onto the table. 

“Okay, we can workshop the name a little, but…” Yujin rummages through his backpack and pulls out a notebook. He flips through the pages before revealing a pencil drawing of me wearing a Superman-esque outfit. “What do you think about the suit? Pretty sick, right?”

“Oh w-wow, that’s really well drawn, Yujin,” Winter compliments. I nodded in agreement, both impressed and slightly repulsed by the lifelike drawing of me in a cape and tighty whities. “D-did you really draw that?

“Yup, spent all night on it. Here,” Yujin says, ripping the drawing out of his notebook and handing it to me. “Consider it a token of my appreciation for saving my life.”

I reluctantly accept the drawing, placing it into my backpack. “Thanks. It’s… nice.” 

“So, what exactly happened yesterday? Tell me everything and don’t spare a single detail.” Yujin gazes at the two of us expectantly, an excited glint in his eyes.

“W-well,” Winter begins. “I was working the night shift at the convenience store and-”

“You work at the convenience store? So cool,” Yujin interrupts. Winter giggles at his innocent reaction before continuing the story.

“Y-Yuno came in and bought some things, but he forgot his change, so I followed him outside and saw him protecting the student council president from a drunk man.”

“Who’s the student council president?” Yujin asked.

“Minji Kim,” I mumble in response, staring blankly at my tray of food. “And I didn’t do anything; it was Winter who pepper sprayed him.”

She shakes her head in disagreement. “Y-you stepped in front of Minji. I just happened to be there.”

Yujin was too busy excitedly jotting something down to listen to her protest, mumbling to himself about “pepper superpowers”. Before I knew it, the end-of-lunch bell rang without me taking a single bite of food, my appetite lost from my mind being plagued with visions of Minji. I toss out the contents of my tray and leave for my next class.

“See you guys later!” Yujin says before running through the crowd of students trying to exit the cafeteria.

Winter waves at him as he leaves. “B-bye, Yujin,” she called out to him, but her quiet voice was drowned out by the surrounding chatter. “Bye, Yuno.”

I give her a nod as I take my leave. A sudden shiver runs down my spine as I sense a familiar set of cat eyes glaring at me from the edges of my vision but the presence disappears as soon as I turn to look at it.

______________________________________________________________

Minji’s POV

The calm silence of the library usually offered me solace, but I couldn’t help but feel helpless as I stared at my phone, the source of my distress. My parents hadn’t texted me since this morning, yet the suspense of waiting for their next message crushed me like a bug underneath a heavy boot.

“Minj, are you alright, girl?” Hanni asks me, her expression filled with concern. She accompanied me to the library while I worked on prom preparations, but it was impossible to work under these conditions.

“I’m fine,” I lied unconvincingly. Despite knowing for the past week that my parents would be flying in today, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread. They were hardly ever home due to constantly having to go on business trips, but when they were home, my mental health went down the drain. Even the thought of having to be face-to-face with them made me dizzy.

Hanni gently rubs my shoulder in an attempt to comfort me. “I can go home with you if you want. Your parents looooooove me,” she jokes.

My lips curl into a faint grin. “I don’t know if ‘love’ is the word I would use,” I shoot back, prompting her to playfully punch me in the arm. “Anyways, I think I’ll be okay. I’ll have to face them alone eventually.”

“It’s your funeral. The offer is always on the table if you need it, Minj.” Hanni flashes me a reassuring smile, momentarily easing my nerves. 

“Thanks, Hanni.” I return her smile with one of my own before looking back at the pile of work I need to do for prom. Picking a prom theme, finding a venue within the school’s budget, setting up events for the week leading up to prom - each responsibility felt like a massive weight on my shoulders. It was already super stressful with the entire senior class depending on me to host a successful prom, I didn’t need my home life to add to that stress.

Hanni shakes me from my thoughts. “Girl, you’re making that face again.”

“What face?” I ask, my head tilted in confusion.

“That face you make when you're stressed and stuff. Like, you scrunch up your eyebrows and your face gets all serious,” she explains while making the expression. I opened my mouth to protest, only to realize that, indeed, my eyebrows were scrunched. 

My attention is diverted to the library entrance as Yuno walks through the doors. Hanni laughs at me as I instinctively hide my face with a stack of papers. The memories of accidentally spending the entire night in his arms flood my mind, and a warm blush creeps onto my face.

“Oooooh, are you all nervous with your little boyfriend around?” she teases, her words making me squirm.

“He’s not my- Shut up, Hanni!” I retort, my face growing warmer with each passing second. Yuno briefly exchanges words with the librarian before turning around, our eyes locking inadvertently. His cheeks tint with a faint pink and his eyes grow slightly wider, almost as if he’s surprised to see me. Hanni, sensing an opportunity for mischief, beckons him over.

“W-what are you doing, Hanni!?” I panic, smacking her arm. She chuckles, undeterred, Yuno makes his way towards our table. I bury my face in my hands, wanting to disappear from this moment.

“Heyyyyyy, Yunooooo,” she calls out, earning a shush from the librarian which she promptly ignores. “What are you doing around here?” Her signature impish grin is etched onto her face, a sign that she’s up to no good.

“Just need to print something out.” Despite his gruff tone, his eyes shift nervously back and forth. I had never seen him look so anxious before.

“That’s coollllll. Minji’s here too, you got anything to say to her?” Hanni gestures toward me, and I offer a shy smile, trying my best to act composed despite the unmistakable blush on my face.

Yuno stutters for a moment before managing, “U-um… Hi.” He nods awkwardly before hastily retreating behind a bookshelf, tripping slightly on the shelf’s edge. A chuckle escapes my lips as he disappears from view.

“That’s the guy that everyone’s so afraid of? The one that beat up Bryce?” Hanni asks, her eyebrow raised in disbelief. “He looks like he wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

I shook my head, a flashback of my first encounter with Yuno in the detention room vividly playing in my mind. His face had been marked with fresh cuts from his fight with Bryce just moments before. At first, I thought he was just another brute who liked causing trouble, but the past few days with him have proved me wrong.

“I mean, he did beat up Bryce, but he had his reasons. I don’t necessarily agree with him getting into a fight, but he’s not a bad guy. Maybe people should try to get to know him better instead of just assuming he’s just another delinquent. He’s kind, and thoughtful, and he has a good heart, a-and…” I felt the heat rise to my cheeks, realizing I had been unintentionally rambling about Yuno. Hanni stared at me in awe, the corners of her lips curling upward.

“OMG, Minj… You have a crush on him!!” she squeals. Panicking, I clamped my hand over her mouth. 

“N-no I do not! Can you please shut up, Hanni!?” I struggled to silence her as her whole body shook with laughter.

“You totally do, Minji!! Just look at yo-”

“SHHHH!!!! Ladies, this is a library!” Both of us freeze as the librarian glares at us with contempt.

“S-sorry…” I mutter before gathering up all my papers. Ignoring the sounds of Hanni giggling behind me, I quickly exited the library, eager to escape the embarrassment. My mind, already burdened with student council responsibilities and the impending meeting with parents, is suddenly occupied with a third weight - Yuno. Images of him fill my thoughts as I think about what Hanni said.

“I-I don’t have a crush on him. I can’t. My parents would never approve… I-I mean, he’s nice and all, and he did help me a lot yesterday. B-but we’re just friends… I guess? Friends can cuddle after a traumatic experience, right?? Omg, Minji, you are doomed…”

The stress that had gripped me earlier increased tenfold as I made my way towards my next class, uncertainty plaguing my mind with each step.

______________________________________________________________

Yuno’s POV

As the school’s printer whirs to life, I mentally facepalm myself for acting like an idiot in front of Minji. It didn’t help that I tripped on the shelf like a moron. 

“Hey, Yuno!” A voice from behind calls out to me while I wait for my papers. I turn and see Minji’s friend - Hanni, I think it was? - approaching me with a phone in her hand. “Minji forgot her phone on the table before she left, do you think you could give it to her later?” She punctuates her question with a mischievous smile. 

“Why can’t you do it? You’re her friend,” I ask, questioning her intentions. 

“Because, I have, uhh… stuff to do.” My skepticism only grew as she flashed me another offputting smile that made it obvious she was up to something. Before I could decline, she shoved the phone into my hands and skipped away without another word. Regretfully, I placed the phone into my pocket and grabbed my papers from the printer, leaving the library with more questions than I entered.

Walking through the halls back to class, I hear a commotion coming from the boys’ bathroom. I try to ignore it and keep walking, but something in my gut stops me from moving on. I push open the door, and the voices from within become much clearer.

“You little shit.” *THUD* “Not so tough without your little friend, huh?” *THUD*

I round the corner and my heart instantly drops. Yujin’s normally cheerful face was painted with cuts and bruises, blood dripping from his mouth and nose like a leaky faucet. His limp body was being held up by one of the football players while Tyler took free shots at him. 

“Get the fuck out of here before I-” Tyler turns around, noticing my presence. His eyes go wide with fear, but he keeps up his tough guy act, scoffing at me. “What the fuck do you want, Yuno?”

My heart pounds in my chest with anger. It’s taking every fiber of my being to stop me from smashing his skull against the porcelain sink. “Let him go. Please.”

Tyler laughs defiantly in my face. His friend, on the other hand, loosens his grip on Yujin, dropping him to the floor. 

“What the fuck are you doing!?” Tyler yells, glaring at his friend. “Pick him back up, you idiot!”

He looks back and forth between me and Tyler, his hands fluttering nervously. “S-sorry, Ty, b-but I’d rather live,” he stutters before running out of the bathroom. 

I pushed past Tyler and kneeled beside Yujin, examining his condition. His chest rose with shaky breaths while his droopy eyelids glanced up at me. A faint grin appears on his face.

“H-hey… S-super Y-Yuno… C-coming to the rescue…” He mutters, wheezing with every word. Enraged, I stand up and turn towards Tyler, dropping my backpack on the ground. His tough guy act completely melts away, revealing a terrified boy underneath.

“M-my dad w-will sue y-you if y-'' His words hang in the air, cut short as my hand clamps onto the back of his head. With a swift, forceful motion, I slam his face onto the tiles of the bathroom walls, the sickening sound of bones breaking echoes between the walls. 

A guttural wail escapes Tyler’s lips, muffled by his hands clutching his broken nose. Thick, crimson liquid seeps through his fingers, coating his hands and face. The metallic scent of blood permeates through the air, a scent that I’m all too familiar with. I shove my foot into the side of his ribs, the impact punctuated by the wrath filling my veins. Tyler crumples to the ground, writhing in pain. The sound of my heart thundered in my ears, drowning out the world around me. Hovering over Tyler, I draw back my elbow, ready to deliver the final blow. With all my power, I drive my elbow into his already battered face. The impact sends a shockwave throughout his body, knocking him out cold.

I stand over his unconscious body, the acrid taste of adrenaline lingering on my tongue, and slowly unclench my fists. I swallowed hard, attempting to steady my breathing while the ringing in my ears faded away. The anger I once felt is now replaced with a slight guilt as my mind travels back to Minji, her unapproving expression from my fight with Bryce echoing in my mind. I shake my head and turn my attention back to Yujin.

Kneeling beside him, I carefully sit him up against the wall. “Can you stand?” I ask, my throat feeling dry from the sight of his battered-up form. Yujin tries to stand up on his own but groans in pain from the slightest movements. 

I turn around, offering him my back. “Get on. I’ll carry you to the nurse.” Carefully, he wraps his arms around my neck while I carry him in a piggyback. Grabbing my bag, I step over Tyler’s unconscious form right as a freshman boy enters the bathroom. A look of shock paints his face as he scans the blood on the wall and the body on the floor. His body shivers in fear as I loom over him, his legs frozen in place, preventing him from escaping.

I try my best to look less threatening and give him what I hope is a reassuring smile. “He slipped and fell. I’m sure he’ll be fine.” I pat his shoulder and exit the bathroom, Yujin resting on my back.

______________________________________________________________

My already sullied faith in the education system manages to go even lower as I find the nurse’s office completely empty, with no nurse in sight. I sign in frustration, opting to find help off campus instead of waiting for someone who might never come.

As I round the corner on my way to the exit, I inadvertently bump into a girl, jostling the glasses from her face. “Oh, I’m so sorry about that,” she apologizes, hastily retrieving her glasses from the ground. “Are you alr-” She freezes as she secures her glasses, undoubtedly shocked at the sight of Yujin’s unconscious body. “What did you do to him!?” she exclaims, hurriedly checking on Yujin.

Confused, I took a defensive step back, shielding Yujin from her. “I didn’t do this. It was Tyler McGraw.”

“As if I would believe someone like you. Why didn’t you take him to the nurse!?” She slaps my arm in exasperation. I scoff, slowly becoming more and more irritated.

“The nurse wasn’t there, so unless you’re a doctor or something, get out of my way, or else he might die,” I snapped, glaring at her. Her irate look melts into one of sympathy, a look I’m not used to receiving. 

I clear my throat, attempting to ease the tension. “S-sorry,” I stutter awkwardly. “I just need help. Please.” 

She studies my expression for a moment before sighing, relenting to the urgency of the situation. “There’s a first aid kit in the student council room. Follow me, it’s closer.” I followed her silently, wondering why her face looked so familiar. 

The student council room exuded an air of organized chaos, with papers sprawled out all over the table in the center of the room. The floor was littered with various colored paper scraps, a by-product from the posters advertising prom that line the hallways. A whiteboard on the far end of the room was covered with notes, important due dates, and random drawings. On the opposite side of the room, a well-worn green couch sat, its fading color a testament to years of use by both former and current student council members.

The student council girl grabbed a first aid kit from a cabinet while I gently lay Yujin down on the couch. His chest slowly rises and falls with each shaky breath. 

“Th-thank… Thank you… Y-Yuno…” he wheezes in a strained voice. Yujin reaches out with a trembling hand, finding mine in a weak grasp. An unfamiliar tenderness wells up within me as I squeeze his hand reassuringly. The girl sits beside Yujin and begins delicately cleaning the dried blood from Yujin’s face. She meticulously applies antiseptic to his cuts, the clinical scent stinging my nose.

As she worked, her eyes briefly flickered toward me. “So,” she starts, her tone measured. “What happened to him?”

A heavy sigh escapes my lips as I relive the past hour in my head. “Tyler and one of the other guys on the football team were beating him up in the bathroom, so I stepped in and…” My words trail off as I catch the unmistakable glare she’s directing at me. I gulp, suddenly feeling sheepish in front of her. Shaking her head, she diverts her attention back to aiding Yujin.

“I don’t know what Minji sees in you,” she mutters under her breath. My ears burn at the mention of Minji, and then it hits me - this girl is one of her friends I saw two days ago (Danielle, I think). Despite not talking to her at the time, I remember the distinct icy stare she gave me that day.

“H-how is Minji?” I stutter awkwardly. I didn’t get a chance to talk to her this morning after the incident last night, except in the library where I… My body shivers at the embarrassing memory.

Danielle abruptly stands up, staring daggers at me from behind her frames. Despite being much shorter, I suddenly felt like an insignificant bug as she loomed over me. “I don’t know what you're planning here, but you better stay away from Minji. She has enough going on already and she doesn’t need a troublemaker like you to add to that,” she snapped, fire in her eyes. We stood there in tense silence for what felt like years before she went back to tending Yujin’s wounds. 

I open my mouth to argue, but stop, considering her words. What was I planning with Minji? We’re not exactly friends, but we’re not strangers either. I mean, I slept over at her house. Hell, we slept in the same bed together. What could she even gain from being close to me? My head begins to ache as I get more and more confused.

Danielle gets up from the couch, breaking me from my thoughts. “I did all I could with the first aid kit. I think it’s best to alert his parents,” she states.

Yujin, with the very little energy he has left, shakes his head. “N-no… Don’t… D-don’t tell… m-my parents…” he grunts. 

Danielle frowns. “Why not?”

“I-I live w-with… M-my grandma… D-don’t… Worry her… P-please…” A single tear rolls down from his swollen eye. Danielle holds his hand reassuringly, her expression full of sympathy.

“Okay. I won’t,” she assures before turning to me, her expression hardening instantly. “He can rest here for the rest of the day. I’ll let his teachers know to excuse him from their classes. You, on the other hand, need to go back to class. I’ll watch over him.”

I nod, surrendering Yujin to her care. Despite her intense distrust toward me, I acknowledge that she can do a better job of taking care of him than I ever could. Grabbing my bag, I leave the student council room, stealing one last glance at Yujin. He grins and gives me a small wave right as I close the door.

A splotch of red stains my sleeve, a symbol of the violence I committed. Feeling disgusted at my lack of self control, I roll it up to hide the part of me others are scared of.

______________________________________________________________

The bell rings, signaling the end of the school day. I quickly grab my things and make my way towards the student council room, the crowd parting as I walk by. Upon barging in, I find the room empty aside from a folded-up note on the couch with my name on it. Curious, I unfolded it and it read:

Hey Yuno, thanks for saving me again. I owe you one, big time! Danielle said her mom is a nurse and she offered to check me out for free so I don’t burden my grandma with any hospital bills. Her mom is giving me a ride home from school early, but I didn’t want to leave without saying anything, so I’m writing this note to you. Danielle and I talked a lot after you left and she’s really nice! I tried to convince her that you’re a cool guy, but she still seems skeptical. Don’t worry though, I’ll change her mind eventually :) Anyway, my hand is starting to hurt now, so I’ll end the note here. See ya tomorrow! - Yujin

I smirk to myself and fold the note, placing it in my pocket. As I place the note inside, I feel something strange and smooth, and I suddenly remember - Minji’s phone. With everything that went on with Yujin, I completely forgot to return her phone. Rushing out of the building, I scan the courtyard, looking for Minji, but she’s nowhere in sight. I flinch at a tap on my shoulder and turn to see two more of Minji’s friends - the tall one and the one that looks like a cat.

“Hello!” the taller one greets with a bright smile. “Your Minji’s friend, right? Haerin told me to get your attention. I’m Hyein by the way, it’s nice to meet you again!” She sticks out her hand, which I clumsily shake. The shorter girl, Haerin, steps in front of her and stares at me with an odd, unreadable expression that sends a shiver down my spine.

“You are looking for Minji,” she states matter-of-factly.

I stagger backward, taken aback by her accuracy. “How did y- never mind. Do you know where she is?”

“She went home early,” Hyein says. “Her parents are flying from their business trip today, so she rushed home to go see them.”

I nod and turn to leave before Haerin stops me. “What’s your relationship with Minji?” she interrogates.

“We’re uhh…” I hesitate, uncertain about my answer. Shaking my head, I decide to change the subject. “Minji left her phone in the library. I’m just trying to return it.”

Haerin’s eyes narrow, studying my expression for a moment. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end as her feline eyes stare into my soul. Minji’s friends always find a way to make me feel uncomfortable.

Hyein steps in, smacking Haerin on the shoulder. “We’ll let you go on then. Tell Minji we said hi!” She tugs Haerin away, nodding apologetically. It looks like she’s the only normal out of Minji’s friends.

As I walk along the familiar path towards her house, the once serene blue sky suddenly fills with gray clouds, reminding me of my first meeting with Ms. Student Council President. If I had just left the detention room instead of offering to walk her home, would fate still have pushed us together? Would she have gotten hurt last night if I hadn’t bumped into her by chance? In the grand scheme of things, what does meeting Minji Kim mean? Droplets of rain start to fall as I ponder these questions, the weight of uncertainty bearing down on me like the rain clouds above. The thread of my life has changed directions after meeting Minji, now woven with hers, for better or for worse. 

Before I knew it, I found myself in front of her house, an unfamiliar and expensive-looking car in her driveway that must belong to her parents. I gawk at it for a moment, wondering how loaded her family is, before knocking on the front door. 

The door swings open, revealing a tall and impeccably groomed man, donning a perfectly tailored suit that I’ve only seen in movies. His eyes, sharp and calculating, seem to dissect me with every glance. “Hello there, can I help you?” he greets, his deep voice as polished as his appearance.

I gulp, my confidence dwindling in the face of his stature. Everything about him reminds me of a world of privilege and opulence that I could never hope to be a part of. “U-uh, hi, I-I’m Yumo- I mean Yuno,” I stammer, my throat suddenly becoming dry.

He raises an eyebrow in concern. “Okay… Can I help you, Yuno?”

I shake my head, mentally facepalming. “R-right, sorry, uh Minji forgot her phone in the library, I’m just here to return it.” I take the phone out of my pocket and show it to him, my hand trembling slightly, betraying my nerves.

He squints, scrutinizing my expression with an intensity that could rival Medusa’s. A woman - Minji’s mother - glides into view from behind him, adorned in fabrics that are equally as elegant and intimidating as Mr. Kim’s. 

“Who’s at the door, honey?” she asks him, her voice exuding authority and lavishness. I suddenly felt self-conscious in front of the pair, crossing my arms to cover my shabby-looking school uniform.

“He’s a classmate of Minji’s. He says he’s returning her phone which she forgot in the library,” Mr. Kim says, his eyes still nitpicking my every move. 

“A friend of Minji’s, how wonderful!” Ms. Kim exclaims. “Come in dear, let’s have a little chat.” She gave me a warm welcoming smile, yet lingering underneath the surface, there was a subtle glint of concealed intentions that sent a shiver up my spine.

“U-um, okay…” I reluctantly accepted, fearing the consequences if I declined. Ms. Kim ushered me inside her home, unaware that this was the third time I’d been here in a row. At this point, I’ve seen more of Minji’s house than I have my own.

“Minji dear, your friend is here,” Ms. Kim calls out. 

“Is it Hanni? I told her she didn’t have to-” Minji rounds the corner, and our eyes lock in a moment suspended in time. She’s dressed in an elegant white blouse that amplifies the innocence of her natural beauty, paired with a simple black skirt that accentuates the grace in her every movement. Minji exuded a completely different aura compared to when she’s wearing her school uniform or the oversized T-shirts she wears as pajamas. It was almost as if she was a different person entirely.

“Y-Yuno! What are you doing here?” She asks, a hint of anxiety in her voice.

I snap out of my trance and hand her the phone. “You forgot your phone in the library. Hanni asked me to hand it to you.”

“Oh my god, thank you so much! I’ve been looking everywhere for it!” Her face lights up in a grateful smile that makes my heart skip a beat. My cheeks flare up with warmth and the corners of my lips instinctively curl upwards, which I try to hide with my hands.

“Yeah no problem, I should probably get going now-” As I turn to leave, Ms. Kim places a hand on my shoulder, stopping me

“Yuno dear, why don’t you stay for some tea? Sanghoon and I would love to get to know another one of Minji’s friends.” Despite her cheery tone, there was something in her voice that let me know she wasn’t just asking - she was commanding. I reluctantly comply, taking a seat on the couch.

“Minji, come help me in the kitchen,” Ms. Kim commands, pulling Minji with her. Minji gives me a sympathetic look before she disappears, leaving me alone with her father. Mr. Kim sits on a reclining chair, leaning forward as he stares me down. I fought guys that were triple my size before, yet none of them intimidated me as much as he did.

“So,” he begins, his expression unreadable. I gulp as I await the inevitable onslaught of questions. “What are your grades like, Yumo?

“U-uh, it’s Yuno. Sir,” I stammer. He grins at me with amusement, like a predator playing with his food.

“My apologies, Yuno.” Mr. Kim leans back in his chair, a sign that he doesn’t view me as a threat. Even with his relaxed demeanor, I couldn’t let my guard down.

“R-right, u-uh my grades are alright.” I clasp my hands together in an attempt to hide my trembling. He raises an eyebrow at my answer, unconvinced. My gut is telling me that I said something wrong.

“What are your goals for the future?” He continues.

“I-I’m not really sure yet. Still thinking about it,” I lie. Up until recently, I’d always assume I would die young from getting mixed in with the wrong crowd, so I never even humored the thought of actually having a future.

“That’s normal for kids your age,” Mr. Kim says, nodding in understanding. “You might wanna hurry up though; it’s best to get a headstart on college.”

I breathe a sigh of relief, his genuine advice easing my nerves a bit. However, I could still feel alarms going off in my head, the tension in the room at dangerously high levels. Something was hiding underneath their kind facade that made the hair on the back of my head stand up on end.

“I’m sure you were expecting me to ask you this, but what is your relationship with my daughter?” He folds his arms, expectantly awaiting my answer. 

I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. The answer to the question has evaded me the entire day, my mind clouded with uncertainty like the rain clouds outside. It would have been easier for me to lie and make up an answer, but my gut was stopping me. I needed an answer, right here and right now.

I take a deep breath to clear my mind, hoping the answer will come to me at the last second. “Minji and I are-”

“The tea is ready!” Minji swoops in, briskly placing a tray of mugs on the coffee table. “Actually, I forgot to tell you this, but Yuno and I are working on a project for science class.” My eyes widen with confusion, but before I can react, Minji grabs me by the sleeve and pulls me up the stairs. “We’ll be in my room if you need us!” she announces. I catch a glimpse of her parents’ bewildered look right before we turn the corner. She pushes me into her room, shutting the door behind her. 

The walls of her bedroom were covered in posters of various singers and groups with odd names, like “Red Velvet” and “Twice”. Various stuffed animals were neatly arranged on top of her bed, a testament to her meticulous nature as student council president. A desk sat in front of the window, its surface covered with random stickers, polaroids with her friends, and sticky notes containing due dates and reminders. I would’ve been impressed with how cozy the room was, if it weren’t for the fact that I was inside MINJI’S BEDROOM, alone with MINJI.

A thousand- No, a million questions fill my head as I glance at Minji, who’s begun pacing nervously around the room. “U-uh, Minji?”

“I’M SORRY, I PANICKED!” She covers her mouth almost immediately after her outburst, offering an apologetic look. Taking a breath, she sits on her bed, fiddling with her fingers. “I’m sorry about my parents, they can be a bit much, even for me. Especially my dad. I’m sure he means well, but he has a tendency to push his ideologies onto others. I suppose he is a businessman after all.” Minji grabs a stuffed bear toy, holding it for comfort. I bite my lip in an attempt to stifle a grin at how… “cute” she looked.

“It’s cool, I didn’t even notice,” I lied, feeling the sudden urge to look impressive in front of her. Instead of looking impressed, however, she giggles in my face.

“No offense, Yuno, but I could hear you stuttering from the kitchen.” My entire face burns red from her words. I pretend to inspect one of her posters in an attempt to hide my embarrassed expression. 

“Sooo… Why did you tell them we had a science project together?” I ask, changing the subject. “I’m not even taking a science class this year.”

Minji sighs, squeezing her bear toy. “My parents are always hypercritical of my friends, they have been since I was born. If they find even a single flaw, they’ll tell me I can’t be friends with them anymore. Hanni is the exception, of course, they couldn’t get rid of her no matter how hard they tried,” she explains, chuckling at her own joke. “I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable, so I lied to get you out of there.”

There’s that word again - “Friend”. This whole time, I had been thinking about whether or not I thought of Minji as a friend. But… Did Minji see me as a friend? The thought was unfathomable, but I needed to know the answer.

“Minji,” I say, getting her attention. She looks up at me expectantly, her dark brown eyes making my heart flutter. “A-are we… friends?” I avert my gaze, awaiting the rejection. To my surprise, the rejection never comes.

“Of course I do, why wouldn’t I? It would be weird if we weren’t friends after everything we’ve been through,” she states.

My body suddenly felt lighter, as if a thousand-pound weight had lifted off of my shoulders. The question that has been stuck in my mind all day finally had an answer. My lips instinctively curl into a smile, the first one I’ve had in a long while.

Minji giggles at my reaction. “I’ve never seen you smile before, Yuno. You should smile more, it’s nice,” she compliments. The room falls silent as a warm, pink hue graces both of our faces. Minji covers her face with the bear toy while I turn towards the wall, hiding the goofy smile that continues to grow on my face. I had been called a plethora of things under the sun - son of a bitch, motherfucker, and piece of shit, to name a few. Never in the last four years of my existence has anyone complimented my smile. 

A strange and unfamiliar feeling bubbles in my chest. It wasn’t fear, anxiety, or anger; It was happiness. Minji Kim had given me a compliment, and it made me happy. I can’t help but wonder if I had knocked one of my own screws loose during my altercation with Tyler.

Minji looks up from her bear, her face still as pink as cotton candy. However, her face instantly darkens with concern as she tosses her bear on the bed and grabs my arm.

“Yuno, is that… blood?” she asks, inspecting my sleeve. Unknowingly, my sleeve had unfurled, revealing the crimson stain. The joy from Minji’s compliment sours into guilt as her worried eyes meet mine. “A-are you alright? Did you get hurt or something?”

My throat grows dry as I search for an answer, my mind devolving into chaos. The thought of her disappointed face if I told her the truth sent a pang through my chest, a pain more acute than any punch I’ve ever received. Frozen in place, I stood helpless as the weight of my actions slowly crushed me.

A knock at the door jolts me from my thoughts, and Minji’s mother peeks her head in, breaking the uneasy silence. “Hey you two, just wanted to know how the project is going. You left so abruptly that the tea got cold.”

Minji swiftly steps forward, shielding my blood-stained sleeve from her mother’s view. “Sorry about that, mom. The project is going well, we’re just brainstorming some ideas right now,” she says, her composure unbreaking.

“Alright then. Yuno dear, will you be joining us for dinner?”

I clear my throat, attempting to keep up a normal facade. “S-sorry Ms. Kim, but I should probably get going. My dad is waiting for me at home,” I lied. Truthfully, I have no idea where my dad is, but that didn’t matter at the moment. I roll up my sleeve and walk past her, beelining it towards the front door, only to be greeted with a curtain of pouring rain. To add insult to injury, a bolt of lightning rings out from the sky.

Ms. Kim places a hand on my shoulder from behind, and as I glance back, I catch a subtle tinge in her eyes that sends a shiver down my spine. She hid it well behind her warm smile, but I could tell there was something off about her.

“Oh no, looks like it’s raining,” she says, feigning concern. It was almost as if she somehow made it rain to keep me trapped here. “Why don’t you stay here until the rain dies down? It’ll give us a chance to get to know you better.”

I gulp as she shuts the door, prying me from my chance at freedom. The ominous feeling in the air intensifies as I reluctantly agree to stay, unsure of the web I’m becoming entangled in. Minji’s worried expression mirrors my own as I’m pulled towards the kitchen, the front door fading from view.

#newjeans #kim minji #newjeans minji #kpop fanfic #kpop gg #minji x male oc #newjeans minji x male oc #minji x male reader #newjeans minji x male reader #fluff #minji fluff #newjeans minji fluff

[inawearyworld]

free if you truly wish to be: chapter iii

plots are half revealed, and willy "mr accidentally steal yo girl" wonka gets his sorry ass saved by a woman wearing one of those "oh no my husband mysteriously floated away died" robes you see all over pinterest. (now there's a sentence i never thought i'd write.)

2023!wonka x oc, this chapter ~2.5k

i would like to thank mr mathew baynton in that one bts interview for those bits and pieces of fickelgruber analysis that will totally now be used here. and also for being generally wonderful. thanks mat ilysm

also i thought it would be sort of funny for at least someone in this world revolving around chocolate to be lactose intolerant and then of course i had to turn it into something sad and poetic bc of Who I Am As A Person

enjoy!! and thank you for all the support on this fic so far!!

part two fic masterlist part four

She had a lot to think about that night.

Felix hadn’t returned home yet, and she started to worry that the fateful flying chocolates weren’t quite as harmless as advertised. The young man who’d made them, too, was swirling about her mind in a haze of schoolgirl blushes and piercing guilt.

Florence Fickelgruber had chosen her lot when she agreed to take on that name. Who was she to imagine a freer life, one of candy-coated dreams and a clear conscience, of gazes and banter with someone her own age, of running her hand through curls that weren’t slick with expensive gel? Who was she to foolishly wish for anything different, when so many people were counting on her?

She missed her home, her family, and it hadn’t been lost on her that Felix had never told her about his own background. Their wedding was attended mainly by those surrounding the Fickelgruber business, as well as another flood of press. She’d had to blink so much that day, unused to being in front of cameras after a youth spent on the stage, but her new husband had preened next to her as if this focus on appearance was where he felt most at home. She remembered the crowd’s polite cheers fading in her mind as he had slowly lifted her chin while she accepted a forkful of the most extraordinarily decadent chocolate cake.

For that day, she had allowed the feeling of his hand on her face to eclipse that of the too-rich frosting stuck in her throat.

Then he came through the door, humming a jaunty tune, and she blinked, torn out of the memory that she felt an entirely different kind of guilt for indulging in.

“Felix? Darling, where have you been?”

“Oh, don’t you worry your pretty auburn head, my songbird. The boy’s finished, absolutely finished. No one will be flying about the Galeries Gourmet if the police have anything to say about it.”

“What-what do you mean?”

“He’s disturbed the peace, made a commotion, even encouraged the-the-the unfortunate to disgrace our sacred sanctuary of chocolate. And the Chief is none too happy about it.”

“Is he?” she said suspiciously, stepping in front of him-because, up until this point, he hadn’t looked her in the eye.

Felix was silent for a moment, cacao eyes darting. His wife’s gaze was strong and unyielding-don’t lie to me again, I can’t take it-but her head tilted innocently to the side, a sort of plausible deniability.

A sort of protection.

“Yes,” he breathed with a curt nod, and took her hands in his. “I promise you, it was a solemn thing.”

“Then what were you singing as you came in?”

The chocolatier blinked again, falling into an absolutely done sort of expression, and Florence’s head tilted to the other side.

“You’ve had another musical number without me.”

“I’m terribly sorry, pet.”

“You know you can’t hide from me, Felix,” she said, something that would have been playfully teasing but held an edge of desperation that he refused to pick up on.

“It of course wasn’t the same without you,” he drawled in that ever-dramatic way, bringing her into their living room. “We’ll make it up now. Dance with me, Florence.”

He snapped his fingers, and some unseen yet attentive servant placed a needle on a record. A crooning melody started to crackle and bounce across the high golden ceilings, and Felix spun his wife into him, twirling her about with a smirk that she could only imagine to be the result of a monopoly saved.

She swayed to and fro in his arms, trying desperately to sink into the music, unable to focus on anything but the wrenching pull of her battling guilts.

~

Florence spent much of the next day in a state of ping-ponging worry. She’d looked intently out of the mansion’s sprawling windows over the town square, wondering whether her forbidden new friend had taken her advice.

“Just…don’t give up.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

And who knows what they’ll do to him now?

The hours had passed in a blur, and then she was laid limp, unable to sleep, and mentally exhausted, next to her husband and his piccolo snore.

She had screwed her eyes shut and burrowed into him, trying to force herself to feel as secure as she did two years ago; then, the slight sound of a little girl’s singing voice lifted itself into her consciousness, followed by the blare of a police car.

Puzzled, Florence carefully got out of bed and went to the window once more. The girl she’d heard was the one with the sweet smile that she’d seen in the Galeria yesterday, and Willy Wonka was next to her, warning her to run. The Chief of Police and Officer Affable faced them, but this wasn’t to last-the former seemed to tell the latter to leave, and the latter obeyed.

It wasn’t as if a switch flipped at that moment.

More like…

An extinguished candle was finally relit.

Before she could overthink herself into inaction, Wren was grabbing her robe and slippers and bolting downstairs, the snore that echoed after her serving as reassurance that she wouldn’t be found out. In her haste, she had the passing realization that this would be the first time she’d leave the house with her hair down and uncoiffed in over two years.

Through this rush, she heard the plunge of something in the town square’s fountain along with the shouts of the Chief, and she ran faster, throwing open the door just in time to see him about to club a drenched Willy over the head.

“OFFICER!”

Both men turned to her in an instant. She let out the breath she’d been holding since first hearing the girl’s voice, rolled her shoulders back, dropped into the character she’d played for the past two years, and stepped forward.

“What on earth is going on?”

They stared, each with a different kind of shock, as she walked toward the fountain. The Chief returned his nightstick to its holster.

“Mrs. Fickelgruber,” he stammered, “I thought you would have thought-well, I guess he didn’t tell-you aren’t-”

“No, I’m not thrilled about you clobbering this poor young man in the middle of the night,” she said, placing a hand on Willy’s shoulder. He looked at her, still touched with the fear of the past minutes but now grateful, and she tried not to be struck by the freckles she saw behind his water-plastered curls.

“Who said anything about clobbering?” the Chief laughed somewhat nervously. “We were just having a chat. An impactful, memorable chat. Right, Mr. Wonka?”

Willy dragged his eyes to him and held them there, a bit speechless.

What was probably three seconds but felt like an eternity of strange silence passed.

“Memorable indeed.”

“Right, then,” the Chief said. “You’ll do good to continue to remember it. Goodnight, Mrs. Fickelgruber.”

With that, he entered his car and drove away, his tail lights fading in the distance as the remaining pair stood, a little shell-shocked, her hand still on his shoulder.

“Thank you,” he said after a while, his gaze still trailing the receding police car.

“You’re welcome,” she replied, giving his shoulder an awkward pat, which made her realize just how cold he was due to the impromptu fountain bath. “Oh, God, you’re freezing. Let me…”

As he turned towards her, she looked up, trying to see through her window in the dark. She could barely make out the shape of a sound-asleep Felix, still in bed.

“Come to the office, I’ve got the key. There’s a fireplace there; you can stay as long as you need to to warm up.”

“Are you sure?”

His eyes moved up the same way, then back to her, and she shook her head as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Of course.”

~

“Do you want anything to drink? Water, tea? Hot chocolate?”

She hadn’t turned on most of the lights so as not to draw attention, but she’d started a beautiful fire, which Willy sat by in a plush emerald-green chair. She’d rattled off the drinks on habit, but she turned to him upon saying the third, sharing his smile.

“The last one, please. But I’ll make it.”

“No, you need to rest-”

“I insist,” he said, moving to join her by the small bar in the office and searching through ingredients. “Unless that’s some sort of corporate sacrilege.”

“Making chocolate in enemy territory?”

He took a small jar of powder from his sleeve and shook it into two mugs, considering this, and his smile faltered a bit.

“Is it really that bad?” he asked. “That they’d…that they’d send the police after me? That business rivalry is thought of like a war?”

She pursed her lips and nodded solemnly.

“They…feel threatened,” she said slowly, “and, despite how professional they seem, they can’t be mature or rational about it. Apparently, you really do have the best chocolate in town.”

He neither confirmed nor denied, but gave half of a smile as he looked down at the drinks he was stirring.

“And I, for one, am quite looking forward to trying it.”

“Here, then,” he said, pulling something out of a coat pocket that had managed to escape the frozen flush. “Nothing too dangerous about this one. Just some good old Wonka magic.”

He opened his hand to her, revealing a small, wrapped treat, and she sighed.

“I’d love to, but I really shouldn’t. Not even the drinks.”

“Why not?” came the stunned reply, and she nearly laughed at just how sweetly scandalized the boy seemed to be at the idea of anyone denying themselves that pleasure.

“Milk has never really…agreed with me. Bad for the throat, and I’m a singer besides, as you know-I mean, I-well, it’s just…”

PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER.

“I shouldn’t.”

He took a moment, and she watched his eyes widen as he processed the shocking injustice of being genetically predisposed against chocolate.

“Does your husband know about this?”

“He does, but he doesn’t care. Says I’ll ‘grow out of it with time’, which I haven’t.”

“So he’s…”

“Essentially poisoning me, yes.”

They laughed a little, because, surrounded by echoes of Fickelgruber’s power, it was the only thing they could do.

Willy stared at the table for a moment, then pulled another vial, this one containing a liquid, from yet another pocket.

“Lucky for you, then, I’ve got milk made from the product of the finest almond trees on the islands of Seychelles,” he said as he deftly poured the liquid into her glass. “Guaranteed to go down sweetly, both on the taste buds and after.”

“...Thank you,” she murmured, touched by the gesture.

With a final flick of the wrist, he deemed the hot chocolate finished, and they each carried their mug to the fire.

“Wren,” he said thoughtfully as they sat down.

“Hm?”

She was instinctively flooded with warmth in the same way she was yesterday, though whether it was due to the stunningly perfect cocoa or hearing her name in his voice she wasn’t sure.

“Is it a nickname? Songbird, right?”

She saw in the fireglow that his face darkened a bit upon the memory of how Felix had always referred to her in the press, taking that potentially sweet title and spinning it in an almost dehumanizing manner. So someone did notice.

“Well…sort of. That was what my parents intended. They say a wren sang when I was born, so they gave me that name, and I loved it. But Felix assumed it was a nickname and suggested I should expand it; to sound more sophisticated in my performances, he said, but I knew half the reason was to fit with the alliteration. He’s always valued aesthetics above anything else.”

They were silent for a while, and the massive painting seemed to stare down at them, making the Fickelgrubers look almost menacing in the fireglow.

“That’s you?”

A moment passed.

“No. No, that’s not really me.”

Her voice was quiet, but decisive. Willy looked at her, really looked at her, and she felt more seen than she had in years.

“I want to help you,” she said.

“Hm?”

His head tilted to the side, a little stunned, and she nearly giggled as his now-drying curls flopped in front of his face.

How could anyone want to hurt him?

“I don’t know exactly what Felix and the rest have planned against you, but I know there’s something. He never really tells me anything, but I’ll…I’ll try to find out what I can, to distract him when needed. I don’t want you to be alone in this.”

“I’m not,” he said. “The others where I’m staying right now, we’re all in a rather precarious situation together, and I’ve got a few ideas, but…”

She watched the wheels turn in his mind, and after a few moments, he looked back up at her, for once lost for words.

“But thank you. Again. I’d…I appreciate it.”

“Thank you. For bringing some much-needed heart into this place.”

“I think you’ve done that rather well yourself.”

This was news to her often-guilt-wracked brain.

“...Really?”

“Well, of course. You clearly care, Wren…you’re kind, you’re poetic and talented, and far smarter than it seems they give you credit for. It’s in your eyes, too, I think. You can always tell the truth by a person’s eyes.”

Her heart had nearly stopped.

Somehow, though, she could tell that he was unaware of the full effect he had on her.

“Mr. Wonka-ah, Willy, I mean…”

“Forgive me if-I didn’t intend to-”

The clocks around the city chimed the hour, interrupting the two just as they had the day before, and the young man’s expression went from its dazed dawning to a startled realization.

“They’ll need me. Back where I’m staying, I mean.”

“Of-of course,” she said a bit awkwardly as they both stood up.

His hair had dried by now, falling in perfectly imperfect swoops around his face. He’d undone his necktie to keep its cold away from his neck, and his jacket was folded over his arm, and he was looking at her as if he hadn’t had a conversation quite like that with someone in a very, very long time.

And neither had I.

Or…ever, I suppose.

Until now.

“Thank you. Again.”

“You’re welcome. Again.”

She took a breath, let it out, and folded him into a hug, which he returned in an instant.

After two years of jutting angles and sharply possessive grasps, it was remarkable to simply, softly, hold and be held.

They bid a last goodnight before parting ways, and as she took her time walking back to the mansion, the moon seemed brighter than ever before.

#wonka 2023 #wonka movie #wonka x reader #willy wonka x reader #wonka #willy wonka #timothee chalamet #timothée chalamet x reader #timothee x reader #timothee chalamet fic #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothée chalamet #wonka fanfiction #wonka fanfic #mat baynton #mathew baynton #mathew baynton x reader #mat baynton x reader #fiytwtb

[collapsedglasshouses]

An Angel For Noah || Noah Sebastian x OC [Part 8]

DIVIDER ART WORK BY @cafekitsune

PAIRING: Noah Sebastian x Jules [she/her]

MASTERPOST

SUMMARY: It was everything but easy to get used to this situation for both Noah and Jules.

WARNINGS: ANGST, ANGST, ANGST, swearing, mentions of death, ...

A/N: If you read my post about crying over my writings while my friends are partying... I was referring to this :) do what you want with that information.

TAGLIST: @trvshdxddy @blackveilomens @crimson-calligraphyx @measuredingold @cncohshit @signs-of-ill-portent @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here @ada-clarence @wild-child-7747

If you wanna be added to the taglist of this story, please DM me or let me know in the comments!

Keep in mind, this takes place in an alternative universe. Even though I write about real people, the way I write them has nothing to do with how they are in real life.

Not even two hours later, Noah and Jules found themselves awkwardly walking next to each other in a more secluded area of the park they were at. The few people they met seemed oblivious to their presence, providing the two with some privacy for their more than strange encounter.

So, while they walked aimlessly and no one dared to say anything, Jules' mind was racing. She chewed her lip, fearing that she would be torn from the world at any moment. Even though she had never really been told not to show herself to Noah, she felt like she had broken all the rules at once. While she only wanted to calm Noah’s nerves, her actions had led to something far beyond her control and it deeply terrified her.

Awkward tension hung in the air. Noah had absolutely no idea what to say to her and Jules was equally at a loss for words.

“This… is so fucking strange.”, Noah finally admitted, breaking the silence between the two. Jules immediately nodded; her gaze fixed on her trembling hands.

They fell into another strange silence, before Noah broke it again with an awkward question. “So… How old are you?”

Jules couldn’t help but chuckle softly. “What a weird question to ask a dead person.” Noah awkwardly gifted her a half-smile. “I was twenty-two years old before I died.”

Noah nodded a bit while processing her words. He swallowed hard before asking something again, desperately trying to break the awkwardness. “Is it insensitive to ask how you died?”

Jules felt how her heart sunk a little. The thought of her death weighing heavy on her shoulders. She thought deeply about her next words before mumbling. “I got run over by a car.”

With that Noah abruptly stopped walking, turning to face Jules. “Oh shit.” He mumbled. The pieces clicked into place as he remembered the tears running down her face when she had saved him from a similar fate.

For a long moment Noah just stared at her, a heavy silence falling between them, as Noah realized the trauma she had endured. He took a cautious step towards her while she couldn’t quite read what was going on in his head. She saw how he chewed the inside of his cheek before carefully grabbing her hand. “I’m deeply sorry I made you go through this again.” His eyes locked onto hers.

As she gazed into his eyes, she felt a sudden and unexpected rush of emotion. The world around the to seemed to fade into the background, while Jules started to wonder if it was the sun hitting her skin or Noah making her feel that warmth. All she could see was the symmetry of his face, the way his coffee-colored eyes sparkled with guilt and something she couldn’t quite understand, and the gentle curve of his lips. Even though she was looking at Noah at a daily basis, it felt like she had never truly looked at him before and now… In that exact moment… she couldn’t help but marvel at his sheer beauty and even more: The beauty of his heart. She couldn’t believe his words. Noah was apologizing for almost dying because it caused her to relive her trauma.

"Don't say that, Noah. I'm here to do my job," she breathed out, still captured by the soft look in his eyes.

Noah noticed how his heart ached a little when she called this whole thing "her job," but he needed to get his thoughts straight. It was her job. She wasn't here because she wanted it so badly; she was here because she was probably assigned to be here.

Noah let his gaze wander over her again. He had seen beautiful people over the years, but something about her intrigued him. When he was being honest with himself, she wasn't exactly the type of woman he would have gone after, but he just couldn't stop admiring her.

“I just want you to know that I will be more careful from now on.” He stated and squeezed her hand that he was still holding for a short second before letting go of her. He slowly started walking again, while Jules tried to process the scene for a second longer.

Jules walked quietly behind him as they continued their stroll through the park.

She took a deep breath and noticed how it felt like the two of them were in a strange, almost dream-like place. The sun was slowly setting down and its warm, gentle light casted a beautiful glow over everything. The park became even more quiet with little to no people walking around and the sounds of leaves rustling in the wind making Jules feel a bit at ease.

Noah than broke the silence with a reflective tone. “You know… It’s kind of weird,” He began, his voice soft. “What?” Jules asked, intrigued by his words.

“I don’t know you and I wasn’t supposed to… I know I shouldn’t feel this way but being with you… It’s like I’ve known you forever… I feel so safe.” He continued. Jules was touched by his words.

“Maybe that’s how you’re supposed to feel when you’re with your guardian angel.” She answered him, trying to provide some kind of comfort.

“What are you trying to imply?” Noah asked curious. “Wouldn’t it be kinda weird if you felt uncomfortable around your guardian angel?” Jules answered.

“Are you saying I’m not in charge of my own feelings?” Noah teased her, causing Jules to cover her face with her hair as she noticed the warmth of her cheeks.

“Not at all. All I’m saying is that your mind might trick you.” She answered him, causing him to come to a stand once again. Noah, still trying to make sense of the situation, playfully poked Jules on the shoulder, as if to confirm that she was really there with him.

Jules, surprised by the touch, let out a genuine chuckle. "What the fuck?" she said, mirroring his playfulness. Noah laughed in response. "What? You can't tell me my mind is playing tricks on me and not expect me to try and touch you. After all, I was just told I have a guardian angel and said guardian angel is now strolling through a park with me like it’s the most normal thing in the world."

They started walking again. Their playful exchange was a brief but welcome break from the overwhelming strangeness of their situation. However, Jules decided not to reveal her current state of mind to Noah. She simply smiled, her gaze shifting over the trees around them.

“Noah?” She finally sighed out; her voice even more quiet than it had been before.

He looked at her from the side, his eyes filled with curiosity, eager to hear what she had to say.

“I need you to promise me something.” Jules requested with a more serious tone. “What is it?” – “You can’t tell anyone about what’s happening here.”

There was a long pause as Noah contemplated the weight of her words. Keeping this bizarre experience a secret would be a significant challenge, but he understood the implications of sharing it with others. Finally, he nodded and said, "I promise. The boys would probably think I'm losing my mind and send me to a psychiatric ward anyways, so yeah... I promise."

Jules chuckled softly, her laughter mixed with a hint of sadness, as the gravity of their situation weighed on her.

“I like your laugh.” Noah than stated, causing Jules to blush a little. Every word he said to her felt like a rush of adrenaline. She knew it was wrong to let her emotions occupy her mind that much, but she felt the need to be a little selfish. Noah made her feel alive, and she knew it would be over soon.

The end of their spent time was nearing when they reached the edge of the small park. Hesitantly they stood in front of each other, both not knowing what to say again. The tension started to form again when they realized, it was probably the last time they ever looked each other in the eyes.

When their eyes locked, both of them felt that rush again and without even thinking they fell into each other’s arms. For Jules it almost felt like her heart was going to explode, the mix of the comfort and sadness washing over her. She felt how she teared up.

Noah, on the other hand, wasn’t feeling any different. He held Jules so close to him, fearing she would vanish into thin air at any moment. He let his emotions get a hold of him and almost cried out. “Please don’t leave me, Jules.”

Jules almost felt how her heart broke a little. She wanted nothing but to stay in Noah's arms but she knew she needed to leave. She tried to say something but her words just didn't want to come out. Instead her lips trembled as her hands grabbed the fabric of his hoodie harder. She didn't have the strength to leave. Not now that she had him this close. It felt like she was addicted to his touch.

"I beg you. Please stay." - "You know, I can't."

Right then she felt Noah shift in their embrace, his head placed in the crook of her neck. The spot became damp. He also was crying quietly.

"The day isn't over. You promised me a day, Jules." He mumbled into her hair as she stroked his back. She couldn't talk, fearing she would break down.

"Please, Jules." Noah continued. "I'm sounding like a fucking idiot. I don't even know what has gotten into me but please. Come to our concert tonight. Just watch it. I need you to be there."

"I need to go, Noah." The girl cried out and tried to get out of their hug even though she didn't want to.

"Promise me." Noah pleaded but suddenly felt a cold rushing through him as he realized he was slowly beginning to hug himself.

And with that...

Jules was gone.

#bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fic #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens rpf #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian x oc #noah sebastian x reader #collapsedglasshouseswrites

[volpe-kitsune-red]

Property rights 🔒

Lynx Andromeda (Yandere OC) x reader

tw. general yandere behavior, murder, possessive behavior, reader treated and referred to as property, vampires, blood drinking, slight gore.

"Hello there, cutie! Ready for the best night of your life?" Your best friend Lynx greeted you excitedly as soon as you came out of your class. Today she was more radiant than usual, probably because for the first time in months you two had finally been able to organize a sleepover. The plan was to sneak out of your college dorm and meet her on the street, where she would be waiting with her car to drive you to her mansion of a house. You weren't sure why you weren't allowed out of your rooms past 22/10pm, something about coyotes attacking people late at night, but you were in the middle of the city and neither you nor your friends had ever seen one! Plus, you were all adults, you should be free to wander however late you thought was appropriate.

- That night -

You had barely managed to escape unnoticed. For some reason, the janitor decided he would do one last patrol around the dorms before ending his shift and had almost spotted you booking it for the streets. Relief washed over your body as soon as you left the college grounds. You tried to nonchalantly walk to the street you had chosen for the meet-up, which was just a block away.

The brief adrenaline rush was starting to roll off of you along with the sweat on your forehead; you turned on your phone to check the time, confirming you had arrived perfectly punctual for the time you had scheduled for her to pick you up. She should be here any minute now. "Good evening miss, would you mind helping me with something?" You were torn away from your thoughts when you heard a voice call out to you. Turning around, you were met with a tall woman with long, silky black hair, presumably your age. "Oh- uhm, sure miss, what is it you need help with-" Her eyes flashed red as she stared directly into yours. "Follow me, and I'll show you." at that moment, you felt yourself lose control of both your body and mind, everything tuned into a blur as all you could do was watch as your body started moving to trail behind the woman. She led you inside the nearest dark alley, commanding you to stand still against the wall...and you obediently complied. You watched her get closer to you, her satisfied smile growing wide enough for you to notice her unnaturally long sharp teeth. You couldn't move, or scream, as you felt tears swell in your eyes, a few drops wetting your cheeks and dripping onto the ground.

"What do you think you're doing?" A familiar voice answered your prayers. The vampire who had already grabbed your shoulders and was an inch away from sinking her teeth into your neck, halted her movements. "Who dares disturb me during my-" Her grip turned rigid, but then her hands quickly abandoned you. Maybe you weren't going to die just yet. You could feel the electrifying tension hardening the air. "...Miss Andromeda, please forgive me, I was tempted and hadn't noticed I had accidentally intruded on your territory." There was no response from the other person. You were unable to turn your head or even shift your gaze, but you could still somewhat recognize your savior from what you could see from the corner of your eye. The figure had shortish ginger hair, pale skin, and was wearing a comfortable white hoodie...the same one you had seen your friend wear this morning. There was no mistaking it, it was her. Why did your almost-murderer know her name? And most concerning of all, speaking to her so carefully...almost fearing the fate that would await her if she chose the wrong combination of words. You watched as the woman, clearly nervous from the prolonged silence, bowed her head in a rush way and spoke again. "I'm incredibly sorry. I'll leave immediatly, my lady." But before her head could fully rise again, Lynx had already closed the distanced between them and grabbed the back of her head, forcefully pushing it back down. The woman didn't dare try to free herself, she didn't even try to mitigate the damage to her scalp as some of her hair was torn out by the force of her hold.

"...you filthy rats, can't even follow one of the most basic of rules: Do. Not. Touch. My. Property." With each word, she aggressively yanked her head from one side to the other, earning a few pained grunts from the vampire you were almost starting to pity. "I swear I would never do such a thing on purpose! I was- I was just-" With a particularly violent pull, she lifted up the woman's head, effectively shutting her up. She stared into her eyes and smirked. "I might have let you run free with a warning if you hadn't gone so far as to touch them. Such pathetic creatures like you don't deserve to taste them. I have claimed my ownership over that one for a long time now, you can't go around stealing people's things and expect mercy." She paused for a moment, her menacing smile disappeared, replaced by a blank expression that somehow still radiated rage and indignation. She then bent down to whisper the last part in her ear. "Especially when it's MY special little thing you were just about to deprive me of." As if it was nothing, an effortless task she had performed dozens of times, she ripped the vampire's head off. Blood oozed out of her headless torso as it fell motionless on the floor. Lynx simply threw the severed head on top of it and scoffed. "What a dumb bitch, should've atleast tried to run away."

You were paralyzed, not sure if it was because you were still under the spell's effect or the overwhelming fear and confusion you were experiencing. You couldn't run or look away from the corpse and your best friend- could you still call her that? Was she really who you thought she was? What was all that talk about ownership and claims? Was she talking about you? Your panic started to exponentially rise when Lynx turned to look at you. Each step she took towards you caused your body to scream at you to run, run, and don't look back, run run run- she was right in front of you. "I'm sorry that you had to see that sweety." She cooed, moving to grab your hand. You flinched away from her, finally managing to take a step back, but you realized there was nowhere to run that way as your back hit the cold bricks of the wall behind you. "Hey hey, no need to be scared of me...It's me, Lynx, your best friend!" The smile on her face appeared genuine but the dangerous glint in her dark eyes and the blood staining her once white hoodie were telling a different story. But...she did save you. She just wanted to protect you and apparently, the best way to do so was to- well...tear a woman's head off. Is that even possible for a normal human being, to detach someone's head so easily?

She tried to come closer to you again and this time you let her "Are you hurt anywhere? Did she bite you?" The second question came off far more emotional than the first. "N-no, I don't think so, she was about to but you came just in time..." You wanted to thank her for saving your life but at the same time, you weren't sure how to feel about the situation. You avoided her gaze as much as possible, staring at your shoes and the trashcan next to you. "Good, no one is allowed to do that but me."

"Huh?? What did you just say?" you looked back up at her, even more confused and concerned than you were a moment before. "Oh no worries, we'll have time to discuss it later." She grabbed your arm and started pulling you away, you put up some resistance but after the late-night show you were forced to witness, you understood there was no hope for you to free yourself. You obediently got into the car with her. She started the car and began driving towards her house. "I promise I'll explain everything to you once we get home, ok love?" She put her hand on yours, squeezing it. You simply nodded in response, hoping this night would end soon.

#gn!reader #yandere #yandere blog #yandere x reader #yandere x you #tw yandere #yandere oc #lynx oc #vampire #yandere vampire #yandere oc x reader #yandere vampire x reader #female yandere #female yandere x reader #female yandere x you

[jiminrings]

oc looking at all these comments online of how handsome jungkook is - shes flattered but annoyed and jungkook tries to cheer her up 🤭

478: drabble

alternatively, jungkook’s introduced to the world and you get a little territorial :O

[ 478 masterlist ]

“They say you’re handsome.”

Jungkook looks up from his game, far too focused on cutting and styling animated hair to notice that you’ve been silent for a full twenty minutes, fully engrossed in reading through engagements with your name and Jungkook’s by extension.

It’s barely been a full twenty-four hours since your company released the statement that you’ve been happily married for more than a year now. Your handwritten letter’s the focus of perhaps everyone in the industry at the moment, all to the point that it’s blocked even other entertainers’ promotions.

Jungkook looks up from his current creation in the far too addicting Toca Hair Salon app you’ve bought him as a joke, eyebrows raised when he could sense the uneasy nonchalance in your voice.

“They want to fuck you too.”

Jungkook snorts before he could stop it, this time catching your attention. The two of you are propped against your bedframe with your newly-bought pillows (courtesy of Jungkook because you said that their ridiculously large size is a perfect fit for your equally as ridiculous large bed), bonding with each other even if you’re doing completely opposite things in silence.

Your husband merely shakes his head, lips upturning to a sly smile. “Cute.”

“Cute?” you question, tilting your head and intentionally dipping down so he could see your face instead of his screen. “You find it cute that other people want to fuck you?”

“No, not that,” he immediately answers, even looking a little bit offended as he gives his full attention to you. “I mean it’s cute that they think they have a chance with me.”

Jungkook sees you narrow your eyes, an impending eye roll being detected from miles away that he resists to snort again.

“So you do think it’s cute?”

He sees where this is going.

“It’s my first time being this exposed to people, y’know?” he sighs, adjusting himself so he could lean his head on your shoulder, hands snugly wrapping around your middle. “It’s flattering, sure, but I think it’s pathetic too that people think I’d want them when I have you.”

“So they would have a chance with you if you don’t have me?” you counter, a frown unknowingly making its way into your visage that even Jungkook’s surprised with it.

He seems to seriously consider your question, even humming to stage up his point.

“Do you mean it as if we never crossed paths with each other, or we know each other but we never acted on our feelings?”

The scoff that leaves you is so powerful that it shifts Jungkook’s hands away from your waist, your voice getting softer yet your eyes growing harsher. “So you’re seriously considering the fate wherein you never meet me so other people can have a chance with you?”

Jungkook blinks because he doesn’t know what he’s missed in a matter of a millisecond, not knowing what point you’ve jumped from that it arrived to this conclusion.

“What-“

“Does that mean you end up with one of my fans who want to fuck you and I end up with Yoongi instead?”

“Too far,” Jungkook immediately steps on the brakes, hurriedly cutting you off at that before you could go on another tangent. There’s a breathless chuckle that leaves him breezily, shaking his head while he tuts. “Way, way, way too far, baby.”

You have an inkling that you’re going too far but you don’t acknowledge it yet, the uneasy pit in your stomach still built high that you know it would take a while before it erodes.

“Someone’s being a little jelly,” Jungkook nudges you, making you drag out your exhale because you know he’s right.

“I’m just feeling torn, okay?” you mumble. “It’s great that people now know I’m married and it’s to you, but this is my first time too,” you pout, making Jungkook tilt his head while he listens. “First time of seeing everyone completely lose their shit over my husband. My love. Not theirs.”

Your husband quickly puts together that it’s that type of unease in your tummy that he’s all too familiar with, joking around it lightly now that you’ve told him how you feel.

“Join the club,” Jungkook snorts, pinching your arm playfully.

“You’re not helping,” you huff timidly, sinking down to be leveled with him. Read: adjusting your position so he could hold you warmly.

Jungkook finds you endearing. Sickingly, utterly, and eternally endearing.

“You have me,” Jungkook professes against your shoulder, pressing a chaste kiss to it before he pecks your cheek next. “You’ll have me always.”

“Even if-“ you squint at your phone, “even if user @givemeyourhusbandy/n of Instagram writes you a 30-point essay of why they should have you?”

Jungkook laughs more giddily than he should have, earning him a glare that he’s quick to soothe by pressing a kiss to the annoyed crease on your forehead.

“Yeah, baby. Even then.”

“Okay.”

“Are you convinced?” he asks again, this time seeing the roll of your eyes.

“Dunno.”

“You want convincing?”

“Maybe,” you hum in faux boredom, stubbornly acting otherwise.

“Someone’s shy,” Jungkook sing-songs, a teasing smirk playing on his lips that immediately triggers the impulsive, snarky remark out of you for the sake of wanting to have the lasy word.

“Well someone was almost beaten by Yoongi so-…”

You belatedly realize that you can’t finish your sentence until you forget to exhale after being interrupted by Jungkook deeply kissing you, wiping the irritated frown on your face clean off that even he looks a little bit woozy from being drunk in you.

“You’re not cute,” he grunts because this time he’s the one who’s irritated, hovering above you who looks evidently more pleased.

“Mhmm. Whatever you say, baby.”

#478 drabbles #jungkook oneshot #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenario

[bellamybellamyblake]

When the Sun Sets - Part 3

In-Between

Characters:

morgan winchester (OC), sam winchester, dean winchester, alastair

Summary:

the winchesters after the death of the middle child. oh, and hell.

Warnings (for entire story):

SPN typical violence, so so much suppressing of emotions, vague mention of SA, depiction of torture, a very pro-torture main character, vague mention of not eating for a while, slightly suicidal ideation, SPN typical alcohol abuse, spoiler warning up to the end of season 8, following canon stops after the end of season 2, but things are definitely going to be mentioned.

Word Count:

2.1k ~ roughly

A/N:

ahhh this one, i love this one. trigger warning for torture. POV switches a few times.

italics = flashback.

dean: 28, morgan: 27, sam: 24

It was all too much.

"I'm not gonna let you go to Hell, Mo!" Sam, the middle Winchester, said as his tears betrayed him.

Morgan wouldn't let them save her. She didn't even let them try. After what felt like a lifetime of them protecting her, she wouldn't accept any more of it. Sam and Dean Winchester used every outlet, read every book they could find twice and called every hunter they knew to find some way to get her out of this with no luck. Their last ditch effort, was doomed to end just end the way they dreaded the most; with the middle child being scratched and ripped to shreds by hellhounds.

She made a deal with the devil. Now her fate was sealed.

“Yes, you are.”

One shot.

The old grandfather clock struck midnight and marked the close of a year, bringing the siblings to silence. It was an earthquake confined to the small room and Dean wasn't positive, but he thought he could see the sound waves as they pulsed and thumped. He could feel them in his bones, leaving them shattered in their wake. He felt his stomach rise up to his throat at the pang. He couldn't control the way his heart started to pound, like it would explode out of his chest.

The demon was next to his sister, and expressed her sympathies, but Morgan couldn't peel her eyelids up to look at her. Eyes the color of the sky had filled with tears, sticking to her lashes. He knew that if she blinked, they'd fall, and the fallacy she'd created - that this case was just a run-of-the-mill salt and burn - would be destroyed.

Then, when she flinched without warning, he knew she was hearing them. Fatal and hungry. Her voice broke through the tauntingly ominous quiet, and somehow it's worse than the damn clock.

“Hellhounds.”

Another one.

Morgan's voice was familiar to her brothers, but it was deeper than usual. Full of gravel, and it lacked the authority it usually held. It was hollow and horse and full of fear, something Sam and Dean didn't want to hear from their sister again. Sam's face was nearly a replica when he spoke, asking how she could hear it, and where it was coming from.

Then they were running. Doing everything they could to get her away from the dogs that wanted to pull her soul from her body piece by piece, atom by atom, back to Hell with them for eternal damnation. They made it into a small office, Sam, Ruby and Morgan holding the door shut, keeping the hounds out while Dean put a barrier line on the floor and windows so they couldn't get in right away. It was a futile effort, maybe it would buy them a few seconds, but it wasn't fucking enough.

The bourbon slid down his throat, smooth and warm, a burn that matched the sting in his eyes. The tears threatened to fall as he let out a shaky exhale and tried to breathe past the tightening in his throat. No matter what he did, no matter how much he drank, nothing would free him from the memory. He knew it wasn't going away, but he was determined to keep at it until he couldn't remember his sister's name anymore.

Morgan's screams echoed through their ears, pulsing and tearing at them again and again until it hurts their own vocal cords. They stared, not making a sound, just watching their sister get torn apart until she couldn't breathe. Until they couldn't breathe. Dean thought that, maybe in some corner of reality, Sam was saying something but his pleas continue to go ignored. Dean could only sit with his knees to the floor - and not just because Lilith wasn't letting him move.

Her blood was everywhere; the floor, the walls, some on his legs. The clatter of a knife hitting the floor went unnoticed. The youngest Winchester's cries as he held the motionless body didn't exist.

There was nothing except the ringing in Dean's ears.

There was nothing but a body that was getting cold and he couldn't tell if it was Morgan's or his.

Who the hell cares how long ago it was? There were some things time couldn't heal. And even Dean couldn’t deny that the past was harder to deal with when the sun sets.

The bartender gave him an incredulous gaze as he motioned for more, it was a look that told him he was probably close to finishing the bottle. A look he had been getting a lot lately. He wanted to retort rudely but even the alcohol couldn't weaken his exceptional ability to keep his mouth shut.

A brush of red hair suddenly entered his peripheral vision. He turned to see a woman, probably twenty-nine or thirty, definitely not much older or younger than him. She wore a sleeveless red flannel tied up at her ribs, denim shorts with the pockets sticking out at the front that barely left anything to the imagination, a light brown cowboy hat with matching boots and a belt. Practically every other redneck chick ever, Dean thought, but I'm not complaining.

Dean sat a bit confused for a moment when the girl didn't say anything. She just stood there, right next to him, too close - in an under-crowded bar no less - to pretend she didn't have any intentions. He guessed that the blonde was trying to put together a coherent pick-up line before she spoke. When she finally decided to talk, her words were kind of slurred together and very accented, but not too much where the eldest Winchester was worried about taking advantage. If anything, he rationalized, I'm drunker. He practically grew up drinking, given his family, and learned how to handle booze early on.

"What's a guy like you doin' in a place like this?"

"It took you two 'n a half minutes to come up with that? What are you? A guy?"

"Hey," She chuckled. "Gimme a break, been drinkin' a bit."

Dean eyed her up and down a second time, making it blatantly obvious he was checking her out. He hummed and nodded, silently giving the girl his approval. "Clearly."

The woman wasn't really clean, with dirt under her chipped finger nails that suggested she didn't ever wash her hands. There was a sheen of soot all over her exposed skin. Which there was a lot of, but again, he was not complaining. She kind of looked gross if Dean had anything to say about it. But she had a nice enough face and she was his type on paper: skinny with an ass, curly hair.

Plus, it wasn't like he hadn't gone a week without showering before. And come to think of it, that had become way less rare over the past few months.

So who was he to judge?

Sam Winchester used to give his siblings a hard time for how much they drank. But honestly? He got it now. As he had his mouth to Ruby's wrist, guzzling down her blood for the fourth time that night, he wondered why he didn't try it sooner. Well, he knew why. Because the thought of ingesting demon blood was foreign to just about everyone. It made him feel alive, helped him forget. Or it at least distracted him enough to the point where couldn't even begin to think about it. Kept his ass from bouncing off the walls when thinking about his sister or the last time he saw Dean became too much. 

He hadn't seen Dean in months, and he almost didn't want to. The two of them were so far removed from each other that by that point, he didn't know how to break the ice. He didn't know if Dean even wanted him to.

He was stuck, picturing Morgan tied up, being tortured, because of him. Because she just had to go and save him. There was nothing he could do about it anymore. There was no getting her out of Hell. He had already tried to make a deal, and he didn't even have to wonder if Dean did too. There was nothing the Winchester brothers wouldn't do for their sister. But the sheer fact that there wasn't anything left for them to try was enough to keep him locked in that fucked up cycle with Ruby.

Hook up with her, drink her blood, kill some demons, increase his skill, repeat.

What else could he do?

Morgan Winchester was dead. She didn't know exactly for how many Earth years, but in Hell time, it'd been six thousand.

The first forty years were doable, being strung up on the rack was doable. The whips, her fingernail's being torn off, the knives slowly cutting away at her. She could handle it. She could even handle the psychological torture, having her hallucinate her siblings and parents, coming in and telling her what they truly thought of her. All things she had already known, and had already believed. But it was when they upped the anti, that she started to crack. It was when demons started doing all of that and more as her family. When they stopped using tools and started using their hands, she had truly begun to break. There was another fifteen years of that.

And when she finally gave up, it had become her job to do it to someone else.

Alastair was a damn good teacher, she had to give it to him. He had been the one to torture her, and he basked in the glory of turning a Winchester into a demon. It took about three thousand more Hell years, but she finally finished the program. Two thousand tortured souls under her belt to her teacher's satisfaction.

Demons started torturing to avoid being tortured themselves. They were the result of going to Hell and having all humanity burned out of their human soul. They were dark, malicious spirits that reveled in pain, chaos and death. Ruby had told Morgan that most demons forgot what it meant to be human. Some even forget that they were humans in the first place. She had learned some demons were true believers, though, in Hell's purpose. To cleanse. And they truly believed themselves morally superior to humans.

But after another thousand years, she started having fun.

She had only wished that by the time she was down there and playing her latest game on the next soul, she could've gotten the chance to torture her father. Get her grimy hands on his skin and tear it off of him cell by cell. Then she heard Sam was down there, too, and she would've been upset, had she not known he was locked up in the cage with Lucifer. She knew she was good at her job, but compared Lucifer and Michael? Even as a demon, her ego hadn't grown that big.

And then she got to pick her own name, and all bets were off.

On Earth, Adriadne had never seen a demon's true form. Now down in the pit, where they roamed freely and carelessly, she didn't flinch at the sight of them. When her soul had started changing, becoming stickier, malleable, and black, she almost second guessed her decision to get off the rack. But at the same time, her memories of her time on Earth were starting to fade. They started twisting into her memories of being tortured - becoming one in the same.

Recently, she had heard a few more things. One; that Dean Winchester, someone she couldn't quite put her finger on, was in purgatory with an angel. Two; that Crowley was not only the king of Hell, but he was granting certain demons passage to Earth for a little joyride upstairs. Three; that he was restoring their old bodies, if in decent enough shape.

Eventually, Adriadne, no longer remembered her real name. Adriadne was who she is, was and what she would always be, for the rest of time. Where there used to be normal human eyes there was only darkness. No pupil, no cornea, no whites of the eyes; everything was just black.

She did remember there were people on Earth that used to love her, and she remembered the physical aspects to being human. Having to eat and sleep and breathe, but not much else. There was something about needing connection with another human that meant something to them, but it was lost on her.

But as she tried to remember the smallest bit about who she used to be, she realized it was pointless. Why would she try to remember when she was powerless? When she had no purpose, no duty?

She figured that maybe a trip upstairs in her original meat suit might be fun. She couldn’t find a reason not to.

Why wouldn’t she take the chance to feel the sun on her skin?

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #dean winchester x ofc #sam winchester x oc #dean winchester imagine #sam winchester imagine #dean winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester x sister!reader #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #spn #team free will #bobby singer #castiel #alastair

[sapphire-writes]

Read more on AO3

Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Baratheon OC

Summary: Aemond and Elyse face each other, and discuss their betrothal.

Warnings: smut at the end of chapter

Word count: 5,355

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Chapter 11: Desire

On Aemond’s thirteenth nameday, Aegon brought him to the Street of Silk. “Time to get it wet,” he had said, clasping his hands on his younger brother’s shoulders and beckoning him towards the doors of the House of Kisses. 

Aemond had donned his eyepatch for the outing. He had taken to wearing it after seeing several ladies of court turn green at the sight of the empty socket where his eye once resided. 

Their faces served as constant reminders of his disfigurement. 

Vhagar was his only comfort. He spent most of his time with her. If he couldn’t be a knight he would be the most revered dragon rider there was. 

Aemond had scrunched his nose at Aegon’s words. His elder brother looked at him incredulously. 

“Your cock, Aemond. I’m talking about your cock,” Aegon had said.

“I know what you’re talking about!” Aemond had growled in response, face burning. 

“Virgins are truly a treat,” Aegon had mused, “you barely have to touch them to have them soaked and mewling like a kitten.” 

Aemond’s lip had curled in disgust at Aegon’s crude remarks. Aegon’s depravity had always bothered him. 

The House of Kisses was one of many brothels on the Street of Silk. The air was thick with humidity, and Aemond’s silver hair clung to the back of his neck from the sweat that pooled there. Though the goldcloaks were nearby the people of King’s Landing pushed by the young princes as though they are commoners themselves. The streets are alive with men seeking pleasure for a purse of coins.

Aemond had been ushered into a perfumed room with several colorful pillows and a bed. Aegon had torn himself from Aemond, promising to return within the hour, helping himself to one of the many rooms. Aemond’s mouth went dry as a lady entered the room. Not a lady, Aemond had to remind himself.

She was older than him, hair a brown copper held off of her face. Her face was soft with her age, but she was still pretty, Aemond had noted. She gave him a smile as she walked towards him. 

“My lady- I mean,” Aemond swallowed as she sat beside him. Her pink skirts danced against his leg, the Myrish lace patterns catching on his trousers. 

“I do not know what to call you,” the prince admitted, eye wide and alert. His heart beat wildly in his chest. The woman smiled. 

“It is Shanna, my prince,” she told him, “it is an honor to be in your presence.”

“Is it?” Aemond asked, mouth tight. He found himself angling away from her, hands clenched into fists at his sides. 

Shanna lowered her gaze, raising a hand to stroke his arm. Aemond flinched at her touch. She moved closer to him, leaning as though to press her lips to his.

“Wait,” he said suddenly and she pulled back.

“Do you not enjoy kissing, my prince? We can start however you like,” she assured him. 

Aemond chewed his lip, feeling ashamed of the nervousness that flowed through him. He couldn’t even bed a whore. How pathetic he must seem. 

“I do not think I wish for this, at the moment,” Aemond admitted and Shanna gave him a small smile.

“That is alright too, my prince.”

Aemond met her gaze, relief washing over him.

“It is?” 

“Your brother has paid, regardless. We need not do anything you are not comfortable with,” she assured him. 

Aemond paused for a moment. 

“Can you tell him we…” Aemond couldn’t finish the sentence, the embarrassment of speaking to a woman in such a lewd way was too much. 

Shanna only smiled at the boy, several years his younger. 

“As you wish, my prince,” she had told him. 

Aemond did not join Shanna in her bed that day. He sat with her for the entire hour she was paid and left without a second glance.

He did not have the pleasure of seeing Shanna again, until that fateful day when he brought Ser Criston to the House of Kisses attempting to find Aegon.

The woman had clearly recognized him, a one-eyed Targaryen prince was not easy to forget. She smiled a knowing smile at him. They shared a secret. 

“How you’ve grown,” she praised, and Aemond shied away from her gaze.

The music from the feast rang in Elyse’s ears. She felt herself blink several times, watching Helaena’s lips move as she spoke swiftly to her. The air in the room seemed thick like honey, everything moved in slow motion. 

“It was grandsire’s idea apparently,” Helaena said and Elyse felt her attention snap back to the room. 

“You know mother adores you, and of course, I do not want you to leave either, so this is good, perhaps?”

Elyse felt her pulse fluttering against her wrist where Helaena’s fingers held her. 

“Aemond cares for you as well, in his own right. And you care for him,” Helaena encouraged, lavender eyes studying her friend's face. Elyse looked at her in disbelief. 

“Helaena, I am to be wed.”

Helaena’s head tilted.

“Yes, to Aemond,” Helaena said, for the second time that evening. 

Elyse stared at her, eyes wide. A hysterical laugh escaped her lips. What the seven hells was going on? Elyse felt as though she was going mad. 

“What of Lord Maceon?” Elyse asked. 

Helaena pursed her lips, glancing around the great hall, before beckoning her friend to a corner of the room. Elyse allowed Helaena to drag her from the dance floor, not trusting her footing.

“Mother says betrothals are easy enough to break, especially with no formal dowry arranged,” Helaena whispered, “your father will not deny you a dragon prince.”

Elyse’s eyes were wide, unblinking as Helaena spoke so nonchalantly. She could not believe what was happening. She wet her lips, looking up momentarily at the ceiling, grasping for a sense of sanity. 

“Perhaps your father shall marry one of you sisters to Lord Maceon,” Helaena assured her.

“Helaena, he does not even like me,” Elyse hissed through clenched teeth, though this was a foolish response. Lords and ladies were rarely thrown into marriages for love. But Lord Maceon could have loved her. Could have grown to love her. 

Helaena raised an eyebrow at her words, unconvinced. Elyse’s eyes were pleading. 

“It is true, I all but demanded him to take me to wife last night.” 

Helaena’s eyes widened, her mouth dropping open as a gasp escaped her lips.

“You harlot!” she scolded, with a playful smile on her face, “and on the eve before your departure? How very scandalous.” 

“Yes, I know, I shall beg the Maiden’s forgiveness later,” Elyse said, shaking her head, “but Helaena, listen to me, he does not want me.”

Helaena would not hear it. 

“Aemond shall do his duty regardless,” Helaena insisted, “but you are wrong, sweet sister.”

“And I always thought you’d be a terrible lady of Highgarden,” Helaena told her and Elyse barked out a laugh. 

“I shall make a terrible princess as well!” Elyse said bitterly. 

“You did not love Lord Maceon, you said so yourself-”

“So that is it? To be unloved here or at Highgarden. A pawn moved about the board.”

Elyse regretted her words as she saw the pain that flashed through Helaena’s eyes. Elyse sighed clasping Helaena’s hand in hers.

“I’m sorry, that was cruel,” she told her companion, who gave her a small smile. 

She found her eyes scanning the room, searching for Aemond. She found him, standing next to his mother, deeply engrossed in what she was speaking to him. 

Alicent’s hands made sharp movements, emphasizing whatever she said to him. His face was a mask of stone, lips in a tight line before he nodded sharply. 

Elyse felt a wave of nausea roll through her, as she paled. 

He was upset. 

Elyse felt her mouth go dry as she watched the conversation between mother and son. Alicent looked towards the crowd, catching Elyse’s eyes. Aemond followed her look and Elyse looked away quickly as his lilac eye met hers. 

The drums of the music picked up and Elyse was lost in the crowd again. She was thrust suddenly into a group dance, Helaena joining her. 

Elyse could feel her heartbeat in her ears as she swayed between lords and ladies. A crack of thunder boomed outside, as the sky opened up rain pouring against the windows of the great hall. 

Suddenly, Aegon appeared before her, eyes rimmed with dark circles. His left eye appeared slightly swollen. A new dance began. 

“Courtesy of your betrothed,” he said, nodding upwards. 

“Your Grace,” Elyse said, dropping her eyes from his face. Aegon blew air between his lips. 

“No need to be so formal, you are my sweet sister-to-be,” he told her, linking her arm with his. His steps were off, and Elyse found herself stumbling to keep up with him. 

“I was delighted to approve the match,” Aegon continued, smiling knowingly. “How very fortunate we are to keep you in the capital.” 

Elyse felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. 

“You honor me, your grace,” Elyse told him, causing him to chuckle. 

“Do I?” Aegon asked, hand tightening on her waist.

“Of course, your grace,” Elyse told him.

“I do enjoy being king, you’re so much sweeter than you were last night,” he crooned. 

Elyse gave him a tight smile. 

~~~~~

“You will do this for me, yes?” Alicent asked her second son, eyes wide as saucers. 

Aemond could hear his heart pounding in his ears. 

His mother looked past him towards Elyse in the crowd. Aemond’s eye followed her, meeting Elye’s blue eyes for a heartbeat before she looked away. 

She would hate him, he was sure of it. If she didn’t already this would be the end of it. 

Aemond turned back towards his mother, her pleading eyes that begged him to save her. 

“Of course mother. Aegon shall have Lord Borros’ oath and I shall have this girl.” 

Alicent smiled shakily, pleased that her son would do as she asked. She clasped her hand on his forearm. Aemond continued to prove he was her anchor in this world. 

“Lady Elyse shall make a good wife,” she encouraged. 

Aemond watched as Aegon captured her in a dance, a deep sense of possessiveness rolled through him. He felt his fists clench as he watched them.

Her green skirts flowed behind her as spun in her dance. The color flattered her. Every time Aemond believed she could not be more beautiful, she seemed to prove him wrong. 

Aemond watched as his brother conversed with her, fingers twitching towards the dagger at his belt. 

~~~~

Elyse’s chambers were cold when she returned from the feast. Her luggage had been delivered to her chambers during the feast, chests, and trunks scattered across the room. How very close she had been to leave the Red Keep. She felt tears prick her eyes. 

Though she was happy to remain in the home she had known, she couldn’t help the feeling that something had been taken from her. A chance. A choice. A life that might have brought her some sense of happiness. 

She swallowed hard as she thought of Aemond, the cold look in his eye. There was one point where she thought Aemond cared for her, but after the previous night, those dreams had scattered from her mind. 

Elyse tossed and turned in bed for ages before she decided she needed to confront Aemond. She could not stand not knowing exactly what was going on in his head. Snatching her dressing robe from the chair at her desk with such speed the chair wobbled on the floor. 

She left her room quietly, sneaking by gold cloaks patrolling the halls. It was unladylike to be wandering the halls at the hour of the owl, nevertheless going to a man’s room. Even if he was her betrothed. Especially if it was her betrothed. 

Elyse stood outside Aemond’s chambers. She had never been inside before, but she knew his door well. Guided by only anger and fear, she knocked on her betrothed’s door. 

He opened the door, in only his trousers, chest bare. His eyepatch seemed tilted on his face, as though he had rushed to put it on. She had never seen him so disheveled. Elyse pushed past him, not waiting for him to invite her in. 

His chambers were sizably larger than that of Elyse. As she entered through the antechamber towards his inner bedchamber this became apparent.

A fire roared in the fireplace, fur rugs lining the floors. A wide chaise lounge and several chairs were positioned around the fire. Elyse could imagine him seated there, reading. The room was cozy. Warm. So unlike the cold exterior, he presented to the rest of the world. 

Her eyes drifted to the large four-poster bed sat at the back of the room, sheets tousled as though he had been waiting for sleep before she arrived. Her body warmed at the thought. 

His desk was full of papers and instruments, several books, empty pots of ink, and scrolls. A large window with a small balcony held several potted plants on the ledge. 

Elyse heard him slowly close the door, the hinges creaking. She suddenly felt like prey. A doe in the dragon’s lair. 

“The hour is late, my lady,” Aemond said as she turned to face him. 

His eye raked over her body, and Elyse became very aware of her hasty decision to rush to his chambers in only her dressing robe and night shift. She pulls her dressing robes closer around the front of her body. 

“I wish to speak with you.”

“And it could not wait until morning?”

“No it could not,” Elyse said, crossing her arms. 

Aemond’s eyebrows rose at her tone.

“If my betrothed desires it, so be it,” he said softly, an amused smirk on his face. 

Elyse’s brows furrowed. 

“Do not belittle me.” 

“Never,” he retorted, eye narrowing.

Elyse, unable to help herself, looked him up and down. She could see the smooth muscles of his chest, his arm muscles flexing. Aemond trained relentlessly even on frigid or stormy days, and his hard work showed. 

Her eyes drifted down his toned stomach, a trail of wispy silvery hair disappearing into his trousers. She swallowed hard, lifting her eyes to meet his. There was no sign of embarrassment on his face, he seemed to know how pleasing his lean frame was. 

“What say you of this arrangement?” she asked. Aemond looked away, walking towards his desk. Elyse’s eyes track his every movement. 

“What is there to say, my lady?” he asked.

“Why agree to this match?”

Aemond wets his lips, turning away from her to face the fire. Elyse watches the muscles in his back tense. She hates the heat that gathers on the back of her neck, the desire that pools in her stomach when she looks at him. It makes her feel weak. 

“Strengthen the unity of our houses. House Baratheon has been loyal to House Targaryen since the conquest,” he told her, dry as if reciting history. 

Elyse rolled her eyes. A very intellectual answer, but not what she was looking for. 

“Yes, but why me?” she demanded, her patience wearing thin.

“I do not understand what you mean.”

“You do not want me!” Elyse snapped, voice echoing in the bedchamber. The pain of the statement was etched in the words she spat at him.

Aemond stilled at her words, back still towards her. Elyse’s chest heaved with anger, her nostrils flaring. 

“You do not want me, and yet you insist on keeping me from some form of happiness I may acquire.” Elyse seethed as Aemond turned to face her. His eye widened, a sea of lavender soon to drown her. 

Her face was twisted with anger, her chin held high as she stared him down. 

“Why did you keep me?” she demanded softly, unable to stop the whimper that follows the question. Her bottom lip trembles and she’s not sure if it is because of anger or the fear of his potential answer. She watches as his tongue traces his bottom teeth within his lips.

“Why not contest your mother’s choice? Fly to Storm’s End, and choose one of my sisters. Perhaps they are better suited.”

Elyse can not keep the bitterness from her voice. Always replaceable, always interchangeable. One of many eligible noble daughters. 

“You are my sister’s companion,” he stated matter of factly.

“You have taken me to wife, all for the benefit of Helaena?”

“It was practical.”

Elyse scoffed, her face flushed with anger. She did not know what else she expected from him, but disappointment coursed through her veins. 

“There is nothing else?” she probed. 

The question lingered between them. Elyse had shown her heart, she would not again. 

“What else would there be?” Aemond asked, his voice like ice. 

Elyse swallowed. She would not cry. She had spilled too many tears for him already. 

“Have it your way then. My prince,” she said, extending her arms too wide in a dramatic curtsey. She moved to leave his chambers before pausing.

Elyse could not help the question that spilled from her lips. 

“What if Lord Maceon calls his banners and decides to come to claim his bride?” Elyse challenged, watching his jaw clench, and his fingers flex. The last effort for him to show his hand. 

Aemond felt her words ignite a fire in his veins, his lips curled at the thought. I’ll kill him, he thought. Let him try. I’ll burn Highgarden to the ground and salt the ashes left behind. 

“You are my bride,” he snarled, his face twisted in anger. Elyse felt something in her stomach flutter. 

He stalked closer to her, unable to control himself. Elyse backed up at his advances colliding with the wall. Aemond put his hands on either side of her head, trapping her against it. She could see the flecks of blue in his violet eye—the deep ridges of the scar that marked his face.  

“You do not desire that,” Elyse snarled, pushing her hands against his chest. He did not move from her shove, but let out a rough breath. 

Elyse could feel the heat radiating off of Aemond, as he lowered his head to her shoulder, his head bowed as though in defeat. He let the weight of his head rest there for a moment, silver hair tickling her cheek. 

Elyse was sure he could hear her heart beating in her chest. He lifted his head, nose trailing along the side of her neck causing her to shiver. 

“Do you really think I would let that flower lord have you?” he spoke, voice low, his mouth caressing the spot where her jaw met her neck. The last of Aemond’s self-restraint was hanging by a thread as he inhaled her familiar scent of lavender and lily of the valley.

Elyse closed her eyes as he spoke, knees growing weak. She felt a tremor roll through her body and worried she would collapse against him. 

“There is no corner of this world that he could take you to that I would not find you,” he whispered against her throat, a threat concealed with a kiss. 

“I would have Vhagar burn the seven kingdoms to ruins and have you atop the ashes.”

Elyse’s eyes opened, half-lidded with desire, his promise sending warmth to the very core of her being. She feels something inside her tighten with need. 

“You do not want me,” she breathed, seeing the chink in his armor. She had gotten a rise out of him. She could hear it in his voice, his words coated in venom.

Jealousy.

Aemond was silent for a moment before giving in to his desire.

“I have always wanted you,” he admitted softly. 

She grabbed him by the scruff of the silver hair of his neck, yanking his lips from her neck. He let out a low whine at her sudden roughness, pupil dilated, lips parted. 

“You want me?” Elyse asked, desperate to hear him say it again. She kept her fingers entangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, blue eyes wide. 

“Yes,” he answered breathlessly. He wants her. He wants her more than he has wanted anything in his life. She is sweeter than the vengeance that flows through his veins. He thought he knew what it was to want, to desire. Never before her. 

Elyse stared at him a moment longer, reveling in the confession of the dragon prince. Aemond watched her carefully. 

“I am yours,” she whispered and Aemond lunged forward, connecting their mouths. The kiss was searing and demanding, a match becoming aflame. His lips were soft, molding against hers the taste of mint and wine on his tongue. 

Aemond took his time prying open her mouth, probing into her with his hot tongue. Elyse let her fingers get lost in his silver hair, holding on for dear life as his mouth explored hers. 

“Elyse,” he murmured against her lips. “What foolish questions you ask.”

Elyse whimpered at his words, desperate to be closer to him. 

“Foolish?” Elyse breathed through his kisses. Aemond captured her bottom lip between his teeth, Elyse’s hands wrapping around his neck, molding his body against hers. 

“I desire you in every way a man can.” 

Aemond roughly pulled at her dressing robe, the material pooling to the floor leaving her in only her night shift. His hands found her waist as he pressed into her, nearly lifting her off the floor pinned between himself and the wall. 

His grip on her waist tightened as all his restraints melted away. The years he had held himself away from her, had stopped him from visiting her chambers in the middle of the night. All the nights he had finished himself in his hand imagining it was her. He let his hands trail to cup her backside, grinding against her.

He roughly pulled her from the wall, his lips not leaving hers. She whined as he maneuvered her towards the chaise lounge, laying her down and crawling on top of her. Aemond deepened the kiss, sending waves of fire throughout Elyse’s body. 

Aemond held himself atop her with one hand, letting the other explore her body. He lazily trailed his fingers down her collarbone, down into the swell of her breast. Aemond took her breast into his hand, squeezing roughly. 

Elyse moaned into his mouth at his touch, at the feeling of his hardness pressed against her through their clothes. Aemond yanked the material of her shift to her waist, allowing his hand underneath. Her skin was hot with desire as he touched her smooth flesh, running his hand over her pebbled nipples. 

Elyse cried out as Aemond moved to suck on the skin of her neck.

“Aemond,” she breathed his name as though it were a prayer, and his cock twitched in his pants. He let his weight rest atop her, leaving her momentarily breathless. Elyse dug her nails into the muscles of his back, desperate to have him closer to her. His teeth scraped against her neck. She could feel her wetness leaving a slick trail on her inner thighs as she clenched for some friction, needing some form of pressure. 

As if reading her thoughts, Aemond’s hand left her breast and began to travel lower, teasing her breastbone, lower stomach, and over her pelvis. His fingers ghosted over her skin, barely touching her. Delirious with want, Elyse cried out to him again. 

“Please,” she softly begged, and she could feel him smile into the crook of her neck. She wanted him everywhere. She wanted him to consume her in his flames. His fingers found the heat of her clothed cunt, pressing against it with his knuckles. The pressure he applied made stars appear in her eyes.

“Say it again,” he murmured a soft command.

“Please,” she repeated. She was sure at that moment she would say anything he demanded of her. 

“Again.”

“Please Aemond.”

His fingers found their way under her small clothes, brushing through her silky, wet folds. He gathered her slick on his fingers and began to rub torturously slow circles on her bundle of nerves. She writhed underneath him with the stimulation as he placed a kiss on her jaw. Her fingers dug into his long silver hair. 

She could feel herself dripping, making a mess of her thighs and most certainly his hand, but was too lost in the pleasure to feel embarrassed. Aemond moved his hand down, a finger teasing at her entrance. 

“I shall not take your maidenhead tonight,” he rasped, voice raw with lust as though he wanted nothing more than to ruin her atop the chaise lounge. She was so needy, so wet for him. 

“That I shall save for our wedding night.” 

Elyse could only whimper below him as he inserted a finger into her tight cunt. Her warm walls clenched around him, aching to be filled. The new sensation was uncomfortable but it sent a current of pleasure through her body. Aemond sat up, waiting a moment, studying her face. 

“Is this alright?” he asked and Elyse nodded frantically. 

“Yesyesyes,” she breathed, earning a dark chuckle. 

Aemond curled his finger inside her, and her mouth fell open in pleasure. She felt he was pulling her apart, surely he must be destroying her in the most delicious way possible. He continued the movement as Elyse writhed on the chaise, his jaw slacking as he watched her. 

Her eyelids fluttered, her breathing came in pants, hard nipples straining through her shift. His finger searched within her until it found a spongy section that made her vision go white. 

“Gods,” she breathed, arching her back and closing her eyes. Aemond grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. 

“There are no gods here,” he told her, “only me.”

Elyse looked into his eye and saw the desire that resided there as he claimed her with his fingers. Her mouth twitched into a blissful smile.

“Yes, my prince,” she said to him, as he slipped a second finger into her heat. She cried out as his fingers curled within her. Aemond bit his lower lip, a hungry expression on his face.

“Again,” he demanded, fingers moving relentlessly inside of her.

A strangled moan escaped Elyse’s lips as pleasure blinded her. Aemond clicked his tongue in disapproval. 

“Say it.”

“My prince,” she moaned and Aemond moved off of the chaise. Kneeling on the floor, he curled his free hand around her thigh, pulling her so her legs hung off the chaise. Aemond’s head dipped between her legs. 

Elyse lifted her head, propping herself on her forearms. 

“What are you-” she began but was quickly silenced as he wrapped his lips around the sensitive bundle of nerves within her mound. A half sob escaped her lips as he sucked, his tongue-gods his tongue-moving hot and wet against her as his fingers curled against her spongy walls. 

The pleasure was so much more intense than when she had touched herself. Elyse felt as though Aemond was discovering parts of her she had no idea existed. The smooth muscle of his tongue worked wonders-seven hells she wondered how she would ever be able to watch him speak again after knowing what that mouth was capable of. 

Her thighs trembled and he squeezed the soft flesh as she squirmed. Lewd, wet noises filled the room as he continued to feast on her, fingers never stopping their magic. He moaned, closing his eye, the sounds vibrating against her mound. 

Tears leaked from her eyes as the pleasure began its crescendo with her. Elyse felt a sensation as though her bladder was about to spasm uncontrollably, the coil within her about to snap.

“Pleasepleaseplease,” she begged him, and he released his mouth from her. 

“Gevie,” he purred, curling his fingers and pressing his hand down on her pelvis. He reattached his lips to her sensitive pearl and Elyse came hard with a sob, cunt clamping down around his fingers. 

Aemond lapped at her juices as she came down from her high, panting hard with a gleam of sweat over her. She inhaled a sharp breath as he removed his fingers from her, feeling strangely empty. He pressed his mouth over her dripping slit, nose brushing her swollen clit, causing Elyse to jerk. 

He sucked greedily, like a man who had not had his thirst quenched in days, the overstimulation making her cry out, tears continuing to spill down her cheeks. When he finally removed himself from between her legs, he was atop her again, mouth molding against hers. She could taste herself on his lips. The erotic nature of the kiss made her groan. 

“Sweet Elyse,” he murmured, a satisfied smile on his face, “you did so well for me.”

Elyse, still trying to catch her breath, grew warm with his praise and brought a hand to cup the side of his face. Her eyes fell toward his breeches, the straining on his manhood. She swallowed, eyes wide. 

“Is there something I should do?” 

Aemond let out a hum, laying against her. The chaise was not big enough for the both of them, they had to be nearly on top of one another. 

“Not tonight,” he told her, and Elyse could not help her crestfallen expression. Aemond took notice. 

“You must hurry to your chambers. There will be a scandal if you are discovered leaving my chambers at this hour. And,” he moved to brush a lock of hair from her face, “if I continue to let you touch me, I cannot promise to keep my word about your maidenhead.” 

Elyse felt a new wave of desire ripple through her at the thought. 

She looked up at him between her lashes, chewing the inside of her lip. 

“You’re certain?”

Aemond clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth and hummed, his arms tightening around her. 

“You’re making the decision rather difficult.” 

Elyse sat up, looking around the room. She indeed was in Aemond’s chambers. Her betrothed. She looked down at him, he was still watching her. 

He was truly an ethereal beauty of a man, his long silver hair splayed out, the light from the fire dancing on the sharp edges of his face. He sat up suddenly, uncomfortable with how closely she was examining him. 

“What?” he demanded, but a smile played on his lips.

Elyse sunk her teeth into her lower lip, Aemond’s eye following the motion as though he was desperate to taste those lips again. 

“I should make haste,” she whispered as he brought his hand to the side of her face, bringing their lips together once more. Fire pooled in her belly. 

He kissed her as though he had done it one thousand times before.

Elyse gasped to catch her breath when he released her, his hand still holding the side of her face. 

“Make haste, my lady,” Aemond told her, as she stood, at last, fixing her shift. 

Aemond picked up her dressing gown from its discarded place on the floor, holding it open for her to slip into. 

She turned her back towards him, placing her arms in the sleeves. Elyse felt his breath against her neck, gooseflesh blossoming.

Elyse turned to him as he led her towards the door. 

“Good night, my prince.”

“Good night, my lady.” 

Elyse tore through the halls of the Red Keep, heart pounding and face flushed. When she returned to her chambers she stood, back against the door. She brought her fingers to her lips before sliding down the door to sit in front of it.

A nervous giggle escaped her lips. Aemond wanted her. He desired her. He had made love to her with his mouth. With his hands. Elyse felt a shiver run through her. From her seat on the ground, she noticed a chest beneath her bed, one that would have been forgotten had she left King’s Landing. 

The smile fell from her face as she gazed upon the chest of letters from Jacaerys Velaryon.  

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[igotanidea]

Masterlist

At this point I write for:

I. THE SANDMAN

The Raven's daughter

part 1 : The fateful meating.

part 2: From the Waking...

part 3: ... into the Dreaming.

part 4: A tour of the castle.

part 5: Questions.

part 6: A hell of a day.

(sneak peak) of part 7

part 7 : A kickass party

part 8 : Late night talking

part 9 : Past, present, future

Part 10 : Escapism Part 11 : Hob

The counterparts

Prologue

Chapter 1 : sometimes reality sucks

Chapter 2 :Welcome back to reality

Chapter 3: A rough nightmare

Chapter 4 : crumbling

Chapter 5: Falling to pieces

Chapter 6: Reunited

Chapter 7: Remedies

Chapter 8 : The Fates

Chapter 9 : On the verge

Chapter 10: Opposing sides

Chapter 11 : Hell is a place you believe in

One-shots (and two-shots tbh)

Morpheus reading his fanfiction: part 1,part 2

Morpheus lover being a vortex: part 1, part 2

Just an apple : a fruit engagement

Eight letters

The Sandman incorrect quotes: part 1, part 2

Comfort

Morpheus lover being on her period

Mutually beneficial : sneak peak,full story

Stranger in the Library

Take a hint

Kupala night: Morpheus x slav!reader

Night shift

Be careful who you bring home

Be careful who you bring home pt 2

Side effects

The perks of injuries

Devilish invention

Over the top

Sleep paralysys demon Get ready for the show: Dream x reader x Corinthian x Hob Endless glorious purpose: Morpheus x Loki

II. SWEETBITTER

Gritty:

sneak peak of chapter 1chapter 1 : Welcome to New York

sneak peak of chapter 2

chapter 2 : If we ever meet again.

Chpater 3: Bruises.

sneak peak of chapter 4

chapter 4 : Get out of my life

sneak peek of chapter 5

III. MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE:

SHADOW : Marvel OC

Prologue

sneak peak of chapter 1

ONE SHOTS

Daredevil incorrect quotes

Marvel incorrect quotes

Marvel incorrect quotes pt 2

Conflict of interests: Matt Murdock x reader

Clingy: Matt Murdock x reader

Here and now: Matt Murdock x OC

Hello devil : Matt Murdock x reader

Workaholic insomniacs:Matt Murdock x reader

Mind the words : Matt Murdock x reader

Torn : Matt Murdock x reader

Not enough: Murdock x Reader x Barnes sneak peak

Secret: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

25th hour : tasm!peter parker x workaholic!reader

"trick or treat"ing with Marvel characters

IV. DC UNIVERSE

Cheshire!verse : Jason Todd x reader

Five years later:

Cheshire cat

Than damn gala

Toxic : Dick Grayson x reader

part 1

part 2

ONE SHOTS

Instincts : Dick grayson x reader

Workout : Dick Grayson x reader

Walls: Dick Grayson x reader

Duality: Dick Grayson x reader

Lost: Jason Todd x reader

Jealousy : Gar Logan x f!reader x Conner Kent

Quiet: Dick Grayson x f!reader

I won't hurt you : Dick Grayson x reader

Babystitting: Dick Grayson x reader

V. HARRY POTTER

ONE SHOTS:

Common ground : George Weasley x reader

VI. THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY

ONE SHOTS

umbrella academy incorrect quotes pt.1

umbrella academy incorrect quotes pt 2

"trick or treat"ing with the umbrellas

We're all broken here: five hargreeves x sis!reader

VII. WEDNESDAY

ONE SHOTS

safe space: Xavier Thorpe x fem!reader Bubble : Ajax Petropolus x fem!reader Who's the monster now? : Tyler Galpin x fem!reader Cemented: Ajax Petropolus x reader Rumor has it: Xavier Thorpe x reader Consolation: Enid Sinclair x reader

Feel free to request anything, also beyond those fandoms. I always appreciate a good idea.

#the sandman netflix #sandman #dream of the endless #morpheus #morpheus x oc #dream lord #fanfic #dream #the sandman imagine #morpheus fanfiction #the sandman x reader #morpheus x y/n #the sandman x you #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #sandman x oc #dream of the endless x oc #dream x oc #dream lord x oc #lord morpheus #lord morpheus x oc #the sandman #masterlist #mcu #marvel #marvel mcu #marvel cinematic universe #daredevil #sweetbitter fanfiction #sweetbitter

[simcardiac-arrested]

beautiful half assed valentines as per popular demand (pine)

#myart #uhhhg tagging all my bitches. smh #omg i suck i have to draw my actual ocs sometime😭 maybe make them valentines #oc: no way back #oc: needless separation #oc: spins on axis rapidly #oc: cognitive dissonance #oc: fates torn again #oc: weaving tales #oc: recognition in spirit #oc: speaks of nothing

[direwombat]

tagged by @inafieldofdaisies and @socially-awkward-skeleton to do these two uquizes

tagging @aceghosts, @adelaidedrubman, @madparadoxum, @voidika, @testyfestyenthusiast, @strangefable, @alexxmason, @deputyash, @josephslittledeputy, @wrathfulrook, @fourlittleseedlings, @poetikat, @cassietrn, @neverthesameneveranother, @confidentandgood, @jacobsneed, @g0dspeeed, @strafethesesinners, @trench-rot, @purplehairsecretlair, @vampireninjabunnies-blog, @jillvalentinesday, @sstewyhosseini, and anyone else i'm missing/anyone who wants to take these quizzes for their ocs!

what is your oc's true roll in the story?

THE FALLEN PRODIGY. hello old friend, it's been a while hasn't it? I remember when you were just a child, gape-smiled and beaming like the sun. where have you laid your youth to rest my love? is it buried beside your heart perhaps? I know how deeply life has wounded you, it took away everything, didn't it? oh poor soul, you held onto happiness with bloody, shaking hands but still fate ripped even that away from you. your past lovers are dead or did some betray you? turning away in fear of what they once admired. your comrades have been slain, or their priorities shifted. I've heard you too have changed your way of thought. the people fear you know, do they normally cower at the sound of your name? ah don't fret, that makes two of us. the masses tend to despise the things they do not have the will to comprehend. the villian finds sympathy for you don't they, well I could have seen that from a mile away. you two are the oldest friends, you made a deal with them correct? to save your late love, they tried to hold their end of the bargain, really, but I fear you are cursed to forever be despondent. oh what a sad and miserable life without love. is that why you chase loneliness? for is it truly a life of sorrow if you yourself has chosen it? but don't become bitter from the pain. trust when I say I have seen wounds unfold a man, turning the gentlest spirits into seething beasts. please, keep seeking love, even if it seems you are forbidden from it. you are the master of your own fate, I see how tired you are. the scars never healed, they twist and wrap around your entire person. your eyes are dark and lifeless, rest. but keep fighting, not with the sword you have forsaken so long ago, but with your heart. I'll be rooting for you my friend.

i'll tell you when you get your soft, italicized, "Oh."

THE KISS. you typically wait until the last second to believe the truth--because it would destroy you to believe it, and then find out it was a lie. you are someone who has never wanted to want, but has rarely been able to do anything else. the idea that you might have to break down your walls for the sake of someone else, someone who could easily decide they don't like what is on the other side, is harrowing. why let people get close enough to be rejected? you are enough for yourself. and you will tell yourself that every time you catch yourself staring at their mouth, smirking at their joke, finding a reason to flick their shoulder. until the kiss. that's when the flood of want, want, want bowls over you and you realize that you are torn between two ways of living. Oh, you think. because despite how complicated you have made it, the moment you kiss, somehow, things seem incredibly simple. they won't be once you start thinking again, but for now, for this moment, you live in the quiet peace of revelation. Oh.

paola under the cut :)

what is your oc's true roll in the story?

THE ONE AT THE CROSSROADS. questioning yourself again? well it's a hard choice is it not. you always decide you've made your mind but you seem to nevertheless return to this state of uncertainty. are you good or evil? dark or light alas? alas, I am not fit for such details in morality. In my slightly skewed sight of it, neither truly exist. they are but a mindset, but mindset or not, they still give you quite the anxieties hm? you are one who has lived in fear, your heart is hidden, and you don't know who to trust. you doubt you can even trust yourself. the caustic words of poisonous people have corroded into your skull. "you are evil. you are a monster. you are bad." well that is indeed a bunch of poppycock, mind my language, for the only one who may decide that is you. my dear, you are torn between never allowing others to hurt the ways you hurt, and from running away from all who might harm you again, with gnashing teeth. you are a cornered animal who has been kicked by the ones it trusted. you do not know whether to trust again, for your mind is screaming, don't. but if I may, you can be both. it is not the question of whether you are good or evil, it is the question, what do I deserve and how might I reach that? you do not deserve pain, correct? so never chase that, instead kindly decline and flee from those like your past assailants, but trust the ones who you know are good. sometimes you will find people to be a messy combination of both pain and love, but so are you and I. my advice is to simply be kind, but be willing to question. always question, always wonder. do not give away your heart on a silver platter my dear, it is worth far more than the sun himself, but don't fail to allow healing. you deserve good things in life. so as you stand between two roads, walk between the third you just now have noticed. life seems to be made of entirely preposterous choices, but if you look close enough, you'll reveal the right ones that are normally hidden from sight. breathe my dear, things will be well. trust yourself, and carve your own path.

i'll tell you when you get your soft, italicized, "Oh."

THE FIRST MEETING. life is normal. it's scripted. it's functional. then one day, you meet them, and... Oh. you fix your posture, you're a little nervous, and it's totally possible you're just projecting -- but this could be something. and the only thing that makes this different from the hundreds of other times you had that exact same thought only to be disappointed is... this is the time that counts. things change. you were looking for someone whose very existence re-contextualized yours. which is not to say that you were incomplete, but... aren't we all? isn't that the essence of being a being who changes? and what completes us if not the love of something or someone beyond us? sure it's still new, and anything could happen from here, but there's something in your shared brain chemistry that makes it feel like good things are in motion. how exciting!

#once again the uquizes are reading syb for filth #OOF #but also big lmao at paola getting the crossroads result when syb's fic is literally called 'kneeling at the crossroads' #but considering that result is thematically about the whole journey and choosing one's path. it works better for paola #(crossroads for syb are burdens. choices. consequences) (crossroads for paola are choices yes. but opportunity and chances for exploration) #but OOF OOF OOF at both their 'oh' responses #because...yeah. that's pretty much how both their 'oh' moments happen :') #oc: deputy sybille la roux #oc: paola orsini

[inafieldofdaisies]

2 in 1 uquizzes

Uquiz #1: What does your OC heart look like?

Uquiz #2: What does your OC path lead to?

broken, missing pieces that once were there: your heart has been torn before, chipped and maybe even shattered. Some pieces will never be recovered, and you are shaped by the loss. But it can still be shaped into something tangible, something good, even with its flaws and imperfections. You don’t have to do all the work of rebuilding by yourself. Allow other hands to leave their fingerprints on the new heart you create from the remnants.

the messenger: a creature of flesh and bones but wrong, wires wrapped around limbs and a steady ticking accompanying each step. His home is in the forest, pale trees with dark eyes, and he clutters on, his bones creaking with every step. The clock keeps on ticking, every moment a blink in the eye of the universe as the years fly by. His steps continue forevermore, an ouroboros lumbering on and on, a mechanical being made from the dead. On and on he clatters, a void that can never be filled, with bloody feet and a chittering voice.

i'd say quite fitting, but the fact the second result is titled "the messenger" definitely sent me

a tangled ball of red strings: who are you without the company of others? You aren’t sure, but you know that you aren’t fond of whoever it is. You are an actor, a pretty face and a pleasant song. Many idolize you, or love you, but you can never be sure of how sincere it is. Your heart is buried under the letters they leave you, sealed with a kiss. It can’t be untangled from the red strings they’ve attached to you. You deserve to find something, someone, true and faithful to hold your heart in place. You don’t have to be everything to everyone.

the path: the memories left behind by others, each one taking their next step along side you. Softly rustling leaves in the wind, the full moon bathing the forest in a silvery light. A beaten path between towering trees, giant shadows slinking between them. Glowing eyes staring down at you, the animals' gazes piercing right through you. The fluttering of thousand of moths, each flap of their wings accompanied by whispers and the knowledge that somewhere someone's fate has taken a new path.

I'm screaming at the actor result for Mer. OMG. the path is also ironic considering her role chosen by Joseph

molten lava and charred flesh: your heart burned so fiercely that it burnt itself out, leaving horrible scars in its wake; scars inside your chest and on the hands of those who touched you, the hearts of anyone who got close enough to connect to yours. The person you are now is no longer recognizable, burnt up by your own anger and passion and love. The injuries can never be fully erased, but they can be soothed with time and trust and forgiveness.

the virus: Game Over. Try Again? Yes [ ] No [ ] I am tired [x] You are psydelic colors, no clear edges but instead just flowing into the ether, just floating somewhere in-between. You have played their games and lost, tried again and again and again but it could never be enough, no, you have been flawed from the start, always wrong wrong wrong. Aren't you tired yet? Hasn't it been enough, you have done your best but your form was never supposed to fit into the cutout they've created for you, each time you played their game you snipped parts away. And it still wasn't enough, would never be enough. Darling, don't you want to break them as they broke you? Darling dear, remember, they called you toxic and vicious, a virus they sought to eradicate. So stop playing the games you could never win and play your own, you are bright colors as a warning sign, sharp words spilling like toxic fumes from a sharp toothed mouth, you are a predator of this new age.

I am once again asking Cal to stop breaking my heart. Ooochie. The fire symbolism, the forgiveness.

Tagging @thesingularityseries @cassietrn @direwombat @strafethesesinners @madparadoxum @poisonedtruth @detectivelokis @shegetsburned @nightbloodbix @aceghosts @jacobsneed @josephslittledeputy @theelderhazelnut @josephseedismyfather @trench-rot @g0dspeeed @adelaidedrubman @clicheantagonist @neverthesameneveranother @voidika @v0idbuggy @socially-awkward-skeleton @aceghosts @clicheantagonist and anyone that would like to do the tag <3

#okay but those results .... #especially Mercedes' #oc uquiz #oc: sabrina donovan #oc: calahan hartley #oc: mercedes “mercy” sibley #ocs #uquiz tag #uquiz #uquiz results #oc character #fc5 ocs #fc5 deputy #far cry 5 oc #far cry 5 deputy #quiz tag #original characters #character analysis

[dreamlostdevourer]

The Origin Of A Name.

cw: doll vore, descriptions of vore, predscape, rebirth This is the story of one of my OCs, the doll eater. It's a short narrative about how you need sharp teeth for metal meat, and how legends are forged.

Most witches have intuitive or descriptive names, such as the witch of spilled inks, or "the echoing static".

Sometimes, they have names that let you know when to run away. Unsimple names, like "Katrina the sky devourer" or "please don't think about her loudly." are a red flag.

These names, no matter if they are chosen or assigned, tend to help a witch fit into the mind of the viewer. But Names also have power.

Sometimes the names feed the image of the witch, pushing their choices, aligning fates, nudging cosmic strings. One such name is the Doll Eater.

Originally, the name of "Doll Eater" was a sort of loose joke. The Doll Eater once worked a scrapyard for witches, harvesting the energies and materials of discarded dolls.

And once, on a bet? She had eaten a doll's eye, so they named her the Doll Eater. Not a whole doll, but that is how rumors start.

"The Doll Eater." was soon on the lips of far too many.

Maybe a doll overheard the name on the streets, or a wizard etched it as threat against intruders, maybe a witch simply sought to dispose of a doll discreetly with a scapegoat. But a name that raises such a question? Dashes forward, unbound by truth, spreading a new nightmare for dolls.

The changes were obvious, but only in hindsight.

The first sign of the name twisting her? Her mouth watered while pulling apart an old combat doll, and not in the typical way.

While the hammer and chisel broke apart joints, the desire to taste the doll sinew caught her tongue. Without consideration, she plucked out and devoured a tendon.

A co-worker saw her, and called her Doll Eater again, and she grinned, accepting it, and granting the name more power.

Then even off the clock, she let her eyes evaluate dolls like prized hogs. The idea of scrapping a doll, then nicking a bit there, biting there, pulling things apart?

It filled her with warmth.

Her dreams started to twist.

From fighting and fucking combat dolls to tearing them apart with her new sharp angelic teeth. Day dreaming of a mouthful of combat armor, a stomach full of defeated dolls.

She yawned, her tongue dancing over her teeth. Suddenly, they felt utterly dull.

Returning from the faesmith, her mouth glistens with teeth of shattered halos, and flesh of demonic leather.

Sharp teeth for metal meat.

And that day at work, a living doll, sent for disposal, meekly offered her arm.

And the Doll Eater accepted her fate.

She brought the doll's arm to her mouth, and lips trailing tender kisses up to her shoulder joint. Deep breath. A jaw full of shimmering inhuman fangs. The scream of rending metal. And the scream of a doll. In full joy-pain, being torn apart by a cackling mechanic.

In three swift bites, the Doll Eater had severed the mechanical arm with her teeth. Shards of enchanted alloys and gooey strings of oil-bound magics dotted the floor, mechanical crashing and joyous moans in the air.

When a doll asked about her meal, her eyes went dreamy, mumbling that the metal meat tasted of rapturous emotions, stillness and sugar. That the gooey vital fluids tasted of soft memories, hope and agony. And the smell. The smell. Her warmly sinister grin emerged as she recalled the smell.

This time, word of her feast shot around the world. Vicious and detailed recollections, never quite agreeing or disagreeing on what she looked like or was. For her own part, the Doll Eater simply devoured more dolls, some of them even volunteering. Her human body broke down, corroding into metal and lore. She was lost to the name now.

The human stomach was, of course, not meant to eat metal, magic, emotion, dream and mainspring more than once or twice a lifetime. Simple magics helped her at first, but the name changed her.

Over a quick week, her skin dripped off, revealing quicksilver blood, slivers of magical weaving, freshly made grinding gears and rusty streaks of gore. We don't know what happened inside that body, nor do we want to.

The changes? Were euphoric for her, of course.

Her old name was gone.

The mechanic was simply a vessel that the Doll Eater tore free of. Dolls came to her voluntarily, and she let herself take trophies of them.

A lock of metal hair, a crystalline eye, geodesic joints, impossible weapons. Her memories of joyous kills and filling meals.

Every doll eaten made her feel more at home in her myth, and the narrative wore away at halo teeth and leather tongue, reforming them into shimmering shredding gears and demonic digestive bases, quicksilver flesh and tongue.

The Doll Eater had emerged from the debris of her old self.

As her legend grew, she heard a soft, quiet voice in her head. Then another, and another.

Dead dolls, "souls" having rested in her body and mind, asked politely to be reformed. Out of confusion and decorum, the Doll Eater obliged.

To call the first aborted attempts horrific would be polite.

But with time and more victims, they learned to create as well as destroy. Extruding new dolls, devouring old ones.

Reshaping those that earned their change. And with these stories, their legend grew again, no longer in leaps and bounds, but steady, even growth.

Now she heard dolls in her aura that didn't want to leave, voices of the souls stolen by her gullet.

She learned the secrets of those she ate, claiming the patches of reality they offered her. The dolls who feared her knew she could eat a hunter, and learn it's secrets, and continue the hunt.

As mountains rose and fell, her legend waxed and waned. Her power is no longer all encompassing, but she always all consuming.

Offer her a limb, she will take it. Doll, wizard, demon, angel, or witch? She does not care, meat is meat, minds are minds. And if you ask nicely and give yourself in whole?

She will eat you slowly and gladly, take you into her, and grant you the new self you wanted.

And yes, she has those who follow her. And demand to be eaten often, and she will oblige. And remake them. A cycle of death and rebirth. A promise of renewal.

Give yourself upon her sharp teeth, pledge your soul and meat.

She will be there to turn you from living to dead and back again.

But do get in line, it's first come, first served.

#cw: vore #cw: gore #cw: predscape #dreams unlost #i meant to just quickly transfer it to tumblr #but i rewrote most of it.

[naushtheaspiringauthor]

~Child Of The Storm~

Nikolai Lantsov x OC

Image by - @brokendreamtale2

Warnings- the volcra attacking and a person's arm being torn apart

A/N- Let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist!

Taglist- @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @sirisuorionblack @nadeleine123n

Ch-26 ~Monsters of the darkness~

Alina finally did what he asked and the fold went dark. All they could hear was the rapid beating of wings, the Volcra drew closer to them.

“Now, Alina!” Sturmhond shouted from somewhere. “Throw it wide!”

The girl suddenly cast light out in a blazing wave. They could finally see the horror surrounding them in the dead lands. There were Volcra everywhere, suspended in the air around the ship, a mass of grey, winged, writhing bodies, milky, sightless eyes, and jaws crowded with teeth. Their resemblance to the nichevo’ya was unmistakable, and yet they were so much more grotesque, and their aims not as precise as them.

“Fire!” the boy cried.

"Now" Tolya spoke, and Anaya opened fire along the twins .The sounds of the guns echoed, louder than anything else.

The Volcra plummeted from the skies around them, chests blown open, their wings torn from their bodies.

The spent cartridges pinged to the deck of the ship. The sharp burn of gunpowder filled the air.

The guns were massive, yet not at all difficult to operate, and they seemed to fire faster than anything else, Two hundred rounds per minute, Anaya remembered the captain's words.

The monsters didn’t seem to know what was happening. They made desperate efforts to escape. 

They finally came to a halt. Anaya looked up to see the smears of black blood and bits of flesh on the canvas sails. She then looked at Alina, who appeared as if she was ill.

Tolya suddenly threw back his head and gave a triumphant howl. The rest of the crew joined in, barking and yapping. 

“Do you think we can draw another flock?” one of the Squallers asked.

“Maybe,” Sturmhond responded. “But we should probably head east. It’s almost dawn, and I don’t want us to be spotted.”

“There are more of them,” Mal said suddenly. “A lot more.”

“How do you know?” the captain asked

“I just do.”

Sturmhond hesitated. With the goggles and the attire, it was impossible to read his expression. “Where?” he said finally.

“Just a little north,” Mal said. “That way.” He pointed into the dark. 

Sturmhond called the bearing. Anaya attempted to steady her breath, but for some reason, enjoyed the adrenaline pumping in her veins. She remembered how she hadn't felt this sort of thrill since she'd left Ketterdam.

The Hummingbird dipped its wings and turned as Mal called out directions and Sturmhond corrected the course. 

Sturmhond took them lower. Alina's light shimmered over the Fold’s colorless sand and touched the shadowy bulk of a wrecked sandskiff.

Suddenly, Anaya could spot broken bits of wood and mast on the barren land, they were the remains of the skiff. She never saw the skiff's fate, but thinking if she would've been on it through that, sent a slight shiver down her spine. 

She quickly brushed off the fear as Mal led them to the ruins of the skiff.

The Hummingbird sank lower. There were bones scattered over the dead sand, bones of the people on the skiff, Anaya suddenly realized, a wave of tremor passed through her.

The Hummingbird banked starboard. Alina's light murky depths of the broken hull. The screeches began to be heard again. Three large Volcra were beneath the skiff’s hull, their backs turned away from them, their wings spread wide.

But they soon came to realize what they were shielding with their bodies. It was a sea of wriggling, twisted shapes, tiny, glistening arms, little backs split by the transparent membranes of barely formed wings. They mewled and whimpered, slithering over each other, trying to get away from the light.

They'd discovered a nest

The crew suddenly went silent. 

Sturmhond brought the ship around in another low arc.

Then he shouted, “Tolya, Tamar, grenatki.” Anaya failed to understand what he meant. But then she saw the twins roll out two cast-iron shells and heft them to the edge of the rail.

“Squallers, on my signal,” the captain said grimly.

“Fuses!” he shouted, “Gunners, drop heavy!”

The instant the shells were released, Sturmhond roared,

“Now!” and cut the ship’s wheel hard to the right.

The Squallers threw up their arms, and the Hummingbird shot skyward. A silent second passed, then a massive boom echoed beneath them. The heat and force of the explosion struck the Hummingbird in a powerful gust.

“Steady!” Sturmhond bellowed.

The little craft foundered wildly, swinging like a pendulum beneath its canvas wings. Anaya's head began to spin and she  hastily grabbed the edge of the railing to steady herself.

The ship finally stopped swaying and settled into a smooth arc, tracing a wide circle high above the burning wreckage of the skiff.

The crew began to howl and bark again. Mal joined in, raising his rifle in the air in triumph. Anaya looked around her with a befuddled expression.  Above the cheering, she could still hear the volcra’s screams. 

Anaya continued to observe her surrounding when she suddenly heard the loud cry of a familiar voice. She spun around rapidly to see Alina on the floor, trembling. She rushed to the girl, but before she could reach her, she saw a flock of Volcra speeding towards them.

The crew began to clamour. Sturmhond shouted Alina's name, but it seemed to have no effect on her. Anaya rushed to the girl and shook her with a jerk, "Alina!" she called out, the girl suddenly jerked, coming back to her senses.

A crew member wailed, and the ship listed sharply. Mal quickly appeared by their side. Alina finally threw the light back up in a shining cascade. The volcra that had descended upon them yowled and wheeled back into darkness.

Anaya finally saw one of the Squallers lying bleeding on the deck, his arm nearly torn from its socket. She rushed to his side, though she did not know what exactly she would do.

The sail above him flapped uselessly. The Hummingbird tilted, listing hard to starboard, rapidly losing altitude.

Anaya took her coat off and pressed it on the sailor's arm, attempting to stop the bleeding but it was too much.

“Tamar, help him!” Sturmhond ordered. Tolya and Tamar soon appeared by her side. "He's bleeding too much!" Anaya yelled

 The ship bobbled and wavered. Sturmhond yelled orders to the crewmen working the sails.

Anaya's heart was frantically beating as the twins attempted to help the squaller, her gaze remained fixated on him

“Is she injured?” she heard Sturmhond shout

“Just get us out of here!” Mal replied.

“Oh, is that what I should be trying to do?” Sturmhond barked back, his sarcasm still clinging to him

The Volcra were still shrieking, but Anaya did not look at them. "Keep a firm grip" Tamar ordered her, and she obliged, putting more force on the sailor's arm. 

The Hummingbird rocked and shuddered.

They were suddenly out of the darkness. Anaya finally looked up to see the blue light of early dawn closing around them.

“Lights out!” Sturmhond commanded.

Alina dropped her hands and held the cockpit's rail.

#grishaverse #shadow and bone #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov fanfiction #nikolai lanstov #nikolai lanstov x reader #nikolai lantsov x oc

[nothingkillsyoulikeyourmind105]

“Painted Black”

Master List

TW- Mentions Death, blood.

König x Fem! OC

“Bravo Team Where The Hell Are You??!!” *Static**

König noticed someone trying to get through on the radio. It had been 5 hours since they received the call about an outbreak with a biological weapon.

“Ghost there someone on the radio?

König motioned to the radio.

He listened to the call again. This time realizing it’s a woman calling from the base that went dark hours ago. He took down her message and brought it to Captain Price attention.

“I’ll be bloody damned she’s still alive.”

“Ghost change of plans we head to the base and see if she can be picked up”

Ghost hesitantly wanted to ask but he turned in the opposite direction.

He never disobeyed an order but this time he did.

“No, we’re putting ourselves in danger. They are gonna blow that place she’s maybe infected. We don’t know anything about this biological weapon.”

“Simon turn back we don’t leave anyone behind”

“Price we don’t know if she’s dead or infected.”

“GOD DAMN IT SIMON YOU OWE HER!!”

“She saved your life more than once she took a bullet for a year ago.”

“She deserves that chance?!”

“She would’ve done the same for you!”

“That’s the difference between us. She cares too much and that almost got her killed more then once.”

“I don’t hold anyone close to me. They all die eventually.”

“Simon”

“Fine!”

Price reasons with Ghost.

“Alright the moment she twitches or growls I’m killing her”

“Fair enough.”

Price redirects the helicopter to the dark base.

Just as they start to come into sight of the base all they see is fire and a small explosion. Fires raging in the base and people lying dead all over some still moving and some running.

“Bloody Hell Look At That!?”

Ghost looks over the base. Seeing that this detour was a lost cause. Before he could make a remark he hears König on the radio calling for the mystery woman.

“This is Bravo Team over.?!”

**Static**

They wait around for 5 minutes no response. They leave the base they are 5 miles away from the base when they hear the radio crackle again.

“This is Sergeant Birdie anyone copy??”

“Does anyone hear me I’m coming out of the base I’m out of ammo and I’m getting to the exit.”

“Bravo Team copy’s you loud and clear.”

“Oh thank fucking god I’ve been calling and calling hoping no one forgot about us.”

“I’m out of resources and I lost everyone in my squad I’m almost to the exit they keep coming.”

“6 hours ago there was 12 of us now it’s just me. Please hurry I’m trapped and I’m fighting them off.”

“I’m-”

**static**

König tried to reach her but all he got was static.

“Scheiße, ich habe sie verloren.”

*shit, I lost her”

“Captain Price I lost contact with her.”

König looks to Price. Hoping he doesn’t give on her.

“Right! We don’t land and if she’s not out in the next 5 mins we leave. And we aren’t landing we don’t know the full extent of the situation down there”

*Back on the ground on the base*

“Fuck, fuck, fuck you all you fucking zombies”

“God damn it I’m stuck I need to get out of here, there has to be a way out”

She noticed movement in the background of the zombies that trapped her in the room.

“Run, fuck run outside”

The scientists for the base there were 4 of them they huddled together hiding in the vents. She tried to warn them but they started running out in the open. Watching them get attacked she use this as a chance to get out of the room she was trapped in. Running to the exit she closed the plexiglass doors and took out her last smoke bomb. Lighting it up hoping someone would see her. She grabbed a gun off one of the bodies and noticed no ammo she frantically looked around but the sounds of the door cracking for the weight being pushed against it. The fires raging by the door weaken the glass.

She jumped over some makeshift barricades and standing by the smoke bomb hoping Bravo Team will arrive sooner.

She didn’t see anyone coming. This was her fate to be to be torn apart by these hungry flesh eating creatures.

The sounds of of gunfire makes her take cover.

“Fuck fuck?!”

“I’m here”

She jumped out seeing the glass gave out she runs towards the chopper she jumped on top of some debris jumping up to the helicopter.

*fear filled her eyes as she leaped forward. At the bottom were the zombies in swarms. The sounds of gunfire echoed through the base.*

“Don’t let me fall?”

It was as if time slowed down for a moment when König jumped to her leaving his post as gunner. He jumped for her as her small glove hands slipped for the chopper

“I got you Maus?”

She looked at him with fear and adrenaline in her eyes. Her heartbeat was beating uncontrollably. She was covered in blood and smell of gunpowder.

“Thank you.”

“You Bravo team.”

“I’m Birdie from Zulu One Team”

“I’m the only one left. Everyone is gone”

“What the fuck happened??”

Price shuffled towards her listening closely to her story.

“My team and me were sent here with orders from Shepherd himself. To obtain a few files from here and bring them back. We had the files in hand as we were about to leave the place went into lockdown mode.”

“Lights were going off and I led my team to safety but by the time we reached the exit it was like hell broke loose. People attacking each other and biting each other. We managed to fight off a few but it started with the bites. A few of my squad members were bit and they turned within a few minutes.”

“Our numbers dwindled as the rest of my team joined the undead. I managed to find a safe place to hide for awhile with the remaining members of my team. But they protected me with their lives. We went back to the labs and found what the made and what the vials contained and we found they made a cure for it. The rest of the vials were destroyed. My team sacrificed themselves to keep me safe. I should’ve died with them but they gave their lives to keep me safe. I tried to call for air support for hours all my calls went unanswered. Until you guys heard my call for help.

“Where’s Shepherd?!”

Price looked at her.

“He’s on the run. He set us up too.”

“My whole Fucking Team my Family died down there and he’s on the run. I’m gonna kill him.”

“Wait where you guys during all of this. I was informed that you guys were supposed to be our support if anything happened. That’s why I tried to call everyone specifically looking for you guys.”

“Orders from Shepherd”

“We were called off at the last minute. We were with Alejandro and the Los Vaqueros. Shit really hit the fan”

“Yeah you can say that again.”

“Here is the vials”

Birdie hands them a black case.

König lost in the moment. He silently sits beside her towering her and he wants to say something but decides against it. He fell in love at first sight.

Despite Birdie being covered in blood and dirt and black soot all he sees is a beautiful face.

He stares at her memorizing every small detail of her face.

She doesn’t notice this at all. She’s busy talking to Captain Price.

He honestly doesn’t care this isn’t time for love.

But looking at her makes all the difference.

“Birdie”

a/n credit to the artist for the gif. Name is label beneath the gif.

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