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chunksworld · 1 year

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Moth to a Flame

IVE Wonyoung x Male Reader | (Tags: Smut)

A/N 1: Welcome to another episode of Chunk goes monkey brain. Credit goes to @kaedespicelatte as always for beta reading

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From: Vicky Jang

“She told me she just got on the plane, daddy. You know what to do.”

You should’ve known that she had something up her sleeve as soon as your girlfriend left for Japan. You should’ve known how opportunistic she is and yet you find yourself driving to her apartment as quickly as possible once again like you don’t already have a significant other that loves you very, very, very much. It should have raised red flags when you didn’t receive any messages from her the week leading up to your girlfriend’s departure. It was foolish from you to think that maybe, just maybe, she finally realized just how extremely messed up the situation is. You should’ve known better, you should be better. But it really doesn’t matter now because it was pathetic how quickly you dressed up as soon as you received that text from her. You couldn’t even wait until your girlfriend has completely left the country and you’re already dying to dick down her best friend out of all people.

It’s infuriating how addicted you are to Jang Wonyoung. It’s infuriating how she can manipulate you. It’s infuriating how easily she can gaslight you. It’s infuriating how you are willingly giving in to all of it. And what makes all of the above worse is that she’s not even your girlfriend to begin with. No, she’s just your girlfriend’s beloved best friend that somehow crept her way into your life like some sort of parasite waiting for a vulnerable host. And you were vulnerable in more ways than one because it only took one session of drinking before she was able to seduce you and you’ve been falling prey constantly ever since. It didn’t help that you’ve already developed some sort of attraction with her that you tried so hard to hide deep inside you because of your “morals” but it’s almost disgusting to even bring out such a word at this point. Knock on the door in a specific pattern that only you two know and you’re met with a surprise that far exceeds your expectations.

“Wonyo—“

Only one foot inside and you already find your body meshed with hers, lips doing the same as you haphazardly close the door behind while you attempt to weather the storm that is Jang Wonyoung. It’s all too overwhelming and yet you should be familiar with it now; one second you find yourself engaging in an awkward dance in the middle of her spacious living room and then another finds you blindly crashing on top of her sofa (be careful not to land on her pillows again or she might actually kill you this time). An outsider might think that this is all just one giant mess but everything is carefully orchestrated; Wonyoung is one for establishing routines and sex is no different matter. Her slender fingers make quick work of your hoodie, hurling it god knows where and leaving you awkwardly in a white tank top that you wore in a rush. You hope she would look past it and she fortunately does, more so because it gives her an even better opportunity to ogle at your biceps than she usually would and such a sight turns her on immensely (though that’s something she won’t ever admit to you).

“Hmm. I’ve missed you so much, daddy.”

You hate it.

You hate how one word can bring the most primal and sinful desires out of you, the way she utters it with such conviction and vigor devolving you into a shell of your former self (which doesn’t say that much considering you’re so willingly giving in to what she wants). You hate how her perfume lures you every single time, notes of red berries and datura flowers driving you further and further into the edge of your sanity. You hate how those lips intoxicate you much faster than any alcoholic concoction could; their taste and texture rivaled by none—soft, plump, and with a hint of the peach-flavored lip balm she always uses. You hate how amazing her body feels against yours, tight, slim, curvy and oh-so-delectable in all of the right places. You hate how just one measly text from her brings you right into her apartment every single time. You hate how you always promise to yourself that this shouldn’t happen ever again and yet you find yourself itching to fuck her right at this very moment. You hate how easily you forget the fact that she’s not your girlfriend—or even worse, you hate the fact that she’s not your girlfriend.

“Wony, I told you not to say that.” It’s a feeble attempt in trying to look and sound intimidating when she already knows you too well—even better than your own girlfriend, unfortunately. It’s almost pathetic hearing her laugh in response, her teeth sinking into her bruised lower lips to prevent herself from destroying your ego even further though the sight just makes her that much tempting to your eyes. She knows how much power she holds over you, an irony considering her position in this power dynamic you two have going on; and yet it’s a position she’ll gladly relegate from if it means getting fucked until she can’t walk the following morning. But she’s too nice of a girl to push you to your limits and she doesn’t want her dick appointment to be ruined so she pulls you for another kiss to subdue your feigned anger. It’s embarrassing how quickly your anger is quelled the more she swirls her tongue around yours, the more amorous sounds that emit from those lips of hers, the lower her hand travels starting from your well-defined abs down to the raging tent forming on your gray sweatpants.

“Or what, daddy?”

It’s downright poisonous, the way her eyes dare you to do something, anything and yet you’re like a deer in the headlights. Those damn alluring eyes. This isn’t anything out of the ordinary either, it’s common knowledge that you’re too much of a coward to actually confront her about the usage of that particular term of endearment (See, the truth is that you actually love the fuck out of being called “daddy”, but why boost her inflated ego even further by telling her? Keep acting like you hate it and she’ll continue to tease you for it). Thankfully, there’s still a small part of you that is completely aware of just how wrong all of this is—and this small remnant of humanity in you wants to inform her of such unjustness. To inform her that you have a girlfriend who you have a loving relationship with, that you should be in your shared apartment and FaceTiming her because she’s bored out of her mind in that hotel room, that all you should be worrying about right now is how to make sure her dog doesn’t leave a mess all over the place. Isn’t it your anniversary in a few weeks?

“I can’t.” Of course you can’t. It’s a “grass is green and the sky is blue” situation. Any response other than that would freeze hell over (not that you aren’t there already). Was it worth trying? Perhaps. But all it does is make Wonyoung even more impatient—and you should know out of all people just how incredibly difficult it is to deal with an extremely horny and needy princess. This brief moment of vulnerability enables her to flip your positions, straddling your lap. Groan as the underside of her shorts make contact with your clothed length and the sensation almost sends you into a frenzy. A proud smile paints her features—it’s another battle won for her and you didn’t even put up a fight. Maybe you should stop trying at this point, you’d rather paint her face with your cum anyways. That will surely look better on her than the loads of makeup she spends hundreds of dollars on.

“That’s what I thought. Now take these clothes off of me— and wait! Don’t rip them, okay? I’ll cut your dick off if I have to throw away another expensive top.”

“You’ll have nothing to fuck then. And if I recall, none of your toys can make you scream as loud as I do. I don’t think you want that to happen. Right, Miss Jang?” Checkmate.

“Hmph, shut up!”

Before either of you could retort, you sit up to meet her at face level. Take this moment to appreciate just how gorgeous she is, a face truly sculpted by the gods and made to be ruined. Starstruck couldn’t even begin to describe how you felt when Yujin introduced her to you, it was like looking at a Michelangelo piece come to life. Except she’s actually real and you’re about to spend another night finding out just how perfect she is, no need to snoop around in a museum somewhere in Europe. Brush loose strands of her hair aside and grab her by the waist, pulling her into a kiss that is gentler and softer than the first two. It’s captivating, alluring, and addicting. It’s a feeling you don’t quite achieve even in your hottest sessions with your girlfriend and deep down, that’s probably what kills you the most. “You’re so gorgeous, Wony.”

“Save the compliments for later, I want you to fuck me hard right now, daddy.” Before you could even do the honors, she’s already pulling her top over her head and you do the same to yours. Wonyoung moans as your lips latch on to her neck; kissing, licking, and biting as you give her hickeys but you’re careful not to leave any darker ones or you’ll be out of here in a flash. It’s so sinful the way she moans your name, and it fills you with elation knowing that you’re the only one out of eight billion people on this planet that is capable of such a feat. It sends more blood rushing to your groin and you can’t wait to just ruin her. Your hands aren’t idle however, roaming her smooth back as you search for the clasps of her lace bra before throwing it with the same force as she did with your hoodie.

She’s definitely not as big as Yujin but her breasts are perky, taut, and just the right size to fit in the palm of your hands. You’ve grown to love them over time and you wouldn’t have it any other way. They look perfect in your hands and even better once you have your lips wrapped around them. Trail your kisses down to her collarbones, continuing to leave marks while you fondle her tits. It only makes her moan louder and you bring your lips to hers to silence her—you two have already received a noise complaint and you don’t want her to get kicked out (it’s definitely not purely because you want to kiss her again). But it’s useless once you do end up sucking on her tits, careful not to overstimulate her while your tongue twists around her areolas and your lips latch on to the soft flesh.

You would gladly stay like this until the end of time but of course the night couldn’t end like this because before you knew it, she already had a firm grip on the waistband of your sweatpants. Regretfully lift your face off her tits and she gives you a look that could only scream “fuck me already.” And what Wonyoung wants, Wonyoung gets. She removes herself off your lap and pulls the obstructing fabric down in one swift motion, immediately exposing your fully-erect cock to the cold air of her apartment. She almost drools at the sight, but she doesn’t want you to boost your ego either so she could only cover her hand to prevent you from hearing any sounds of arousal. But it really doesn’t matter because at the end of this night, you’ll have her screaming for your dick as if her life depended on it.

“Commando? Seriously? And yet here you were acting like you didn’t want to do this?” She tries hard not to give any further reaction and yet, her eyes can only look at its size and girth in awe. The sheer attention she gives to it almost makes you want to pull up your sweatpants again because of how much precum is dribbling out due to arousal. Completely remove your sweatpants and it joins the scattered pieces of clothing in her living room. Now you’re completely naked; and as much as you don’t want to think about it, not even Yujin gets the privilege of seeing you in such a state regularly (go ahead, keep thinking about your girlfriend and that would make it two women you’ll disappoint tonight). Just focus on Wonyoung, you already made it all the way to this point so you might as well see through it.

Make her straddle your lap again, this time working on unbuttoning her shorts and taking off her matching lace panties that are absolutely drenched. You would tease her for this but given the mutual overflowing lust for each other, you decide to save that for a later time. Now both of you are fully naked and given how wet she is, it makes the task of sliding her down your length much easier. Though it doesn’t say much considering how tight she is, even tighter than Yujin, despite the handful of times you’ve had sex with her already. You almost groan in pain as her nails dig deep on the skin of your back while your cock digs deep inside her warm and suffocating pussy. She screams, the sound reverberating throughout her studio apartment and given how thin the walls are, you two are about to give her neighbors a show tonight.

“So fucking tight, Wony. So. Fucking. Tight.” You hiss and grit your teeth as you fill her more and more, stretching her out with every inch inserted inside her. It takes a few more seconds before you can finally impale her, your tip reaching her cervix and then completely pulling out—audible whines from Wonyoung as she grabs your cock from underneath and forces you back into her. She’s so damn needy. But you would be lying if you said you aren’t either because you grip her ass needily as you begin to stroke upwards, immediately sending shockwaves throughout her slim body as she falls slump on your chest. Her slick thankfully aids in helping you maneuver or you’ll have to use some lube (something you’ve only had to do when she asked to do anal once and you’ve been dying to try it again).

“God—ah—f-fuck, daddy. You’re stretching me out so well.” Hot and heavy breaths send goosebumps all over your body as she buries her face on the crook of your neck, completely pressing her warm body against yours (you actually wanted to kiss her again but you’d gladly feel every inch of her perfect body as an alternative) and god, does she feel so fucking amazing. The way her thighs crash against yours, the thunderous slapping of skin on skin mixing with the faint noise of the heater turning on in the background, her moans flowing directly into your ears—it’s all too much to handle and as much as you hate to admit it, the fact that she’s not even yours to begin with is what truly sends you spiraling into a world of bliss. You’ve already fucked up anyways, might as well indulge to the fullest before judgement day comes.

And indulge you do because soon enough, you’re moaning and groaning much like she does—only at a lower tone as if a conductor is telling you to harmonize with her. But eventually, it gets drowned out by the continuous slapping of your hips to her thighs, creating a vociferous squelching noise that only increases in volume and confirms just how wet and aroused she is. Look down and the juices flowing down her thighs adds further evidence as it stains your crotch with her precious honey as well—such a delectable treat shouldn’t be wasted and should be lapped up instead. Fortunately you have the weekend all to yourselves so you can eat her out all day tomorrow if you want.

“H-Heh. You’re really enjoying this aren’t you, daddy?” Wonyoung lifts up her face to look at you for the first time in a while and she looks so beautiful, breathtaking, and absolutely fucked. Tears have begun to well under her eyes and yet somehow her mascara is still intact, guess it was money well spent after all. “I bet Yujin unnie can’t fuck you this good, huh? I wonder what she would be saying right now once she finds out that her best friend loves getting dicked down by her man, hmm?” It should make you angry, it definitely has to make you angry. But every sexual encounter with her has stripped you of any sense of dignity and honor. And at this point, you don’t give a damn about anything else other than giving in to your desires.

“Shut the fuck up, Wony.” You have no response either, so you just grab on the sides of her face and pull her into another kiss. “Just shut the fuck up and take this dick like the cumslut you are.” Fuck it. You go back to the hickeys you’ve made earlier and turn them to an even darker shade of red, making it near impossible to hide the sinful events that took place tonight. No worries, it’s not like you two are planning to leave this house for the next two days anyways. You want to make sure that you’ve fucked her in every single corner and in every position manageable. You don’t see it but a smirk appeared on her face. She got you worked up again like she wanted and it caused you to be even more aggressive just like how she wanted. You really are just a moth to her flame, how pathetic.

“Of course, where else would I want your cum? Turn me into your breeding bunny, daddy.” A sultry whisper to your ear and it unlocks an even more primal side from you. Plant your feet on the couch and you begin to fuck her with reckless abandon like the wild animal you are. Wrap her long legs around your waist and lift yourselves off the couch, a position that almost makes your knees give out. But your leg muscles are there for a reason as you grab on the back of her thighs and pound her relentlessly. It’s raw, it’s hot, and it’s so fucking passionate. The way her sweaty body would lift high up in the air before gravity brings it right back to your cock, the way she clings on to you for dear life, the way she tries to kiss you despite it being an almost impossible task. The air grows increasingly hot signaling your impending orgasm.

“I-I can’t hold on much longer—ah, shit. I can’t hold on much longer, fuck.” Thank goodness her floor isn’t made out of carpet because her slick starts to seep out of her pussy with every deep thrust. Usually she would respond with a one-liner but she’s so deep into her own world of ecstasy that all she could do is cry and wail as your spearing length continues to drive home into her cervix. You can’t talk that much more either because the familiar, bubbling sensation in your stomach only grows with each thrust. And the way she clings on to you for dear life, screaming to the world how good your cock is only serves to expedite and intensify your eventual undoing. It only leads you closer to completely unraveling like she intends you to, like how you’re supposed to.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuckkk! I’m gonna fucking cum inside you, Wony. Gonna cum and fill that tight pussy.”

“Don’t fucking stop, daddy, I-I’m gonna cum as well. Please—“

“FUCK!”

With one final deep and unrelenting thrust, you completely explode. It’s a shout that’s definitely justifiable enough to cause your eviction, even more so as she joins you in your peak. It’s a sensation that’s overwhelming and numbing at once. Your vision is filled with white. You can feel your ears ringing, legs completely giving out as you crash back down on the couch. An out-of-body experience that only happens with her leading you to become breathless and scrambling for air. You won’t stop cumming, can’t stop cumming as ropes upon ropes of semen continue to unload inside her, every jolt of your hips make sure to shoot your cum deep and fill her walls white. It fills you to and over the brim with bliss, a feeling that you want to chase over and over again. It’s addicting, it’s mind blowing, and it leaves your balls completely drained inside her. So much so that your cum immediately starts dripping out of her fucked pussy as soon as the last spurts have been left inside her, an erotic sight that you will never get tired of.

A few minutes past before the tremors completely stop and you engage in a mindless makeout session with her to help you two calm down. Brush loose strands of disheveled hair aside as you can gradually feel her breathing return to normal, wrap your arms around her waist possessively and she squeals due to her heightened sensitivity. “You filled me up so well daddy, fuck…..” Wonyoung takes a finger and swipes at a streak of cum that drizzled out of her and brings it to her mouth as if it was spilled ice cream, her facial expression indiscernible. “Yum! Next time I want it all in my mouth, m’kay?”

“God, you’re insatiable.”

She gives you a kiss, then she starts grinding her hips again. “Only for you, daddy.”

#ive smut #wonyoung smut #jang wonyoung smut #male reader #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #reader insert #smut

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inconstantsearchofperfection · 1 year

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Picard was not a good show.

Season three was almost as bad if not worse than seasons 1 and 2.

There are moments of sweet nostalgia...yes.

But that nostalgia shouldn't eclipse all of the lazy writing and bad writing. The absurd plot points and down right confusingly bad gaffs.

I dont want anymore of this crap.

Hire some fucking writers that want to do this job, that will do this job , that can do this job. Some people that Love trek.

There are dozens making ( for non profit mind you ) " fan made " productions that are on youtube that are ( arguably ) doing it better than these people getting paid millions to do it.

You may think you like trek more than I.

You don't. So that is definitely not an excuse for why I didn't enjoy the picard show. Don't tell me " all trek is legitimate trek " . It ain't.

I ll watch all this shit . No matter how bad it gets . I'm an addict at this point.

But I'd sure like to have some writing that makes fucking sense.

There is a bigger startrek universe than just the 7 main sttng characters. Killing off minor characters is not automatically good writing.

You may feel full with all the nostalgia and ( re)member berries. But I have a nasty taste left in my stomach.

I do not want any ( more ) jj stuff. I don't want any( more ) kurtzman stuff. I do not want any( more ) terry shtuff.

I m tired of the shiny but also dark sets.

I'm tired of ships getting blown up instead of plot.

I'm tired of this ... startrek that is being made into something else. Star( wars)trek.

Star(barbie)trek. Star( riverdale)trek.

Its bad. Stop making it .

I seriously could have had just picard meeting up with olde friends having meals and getting drinks for 10 damn episodes than have ichib die and then hugh die, then maddox die, then Ro be brought back for one episode to crash her shuttle needlessly into a warp nacelle. She could easily have escaped . It was an unnecessary death.

It was sloppy.

It was lazy.

Sure . I loved seeing the enterprise d. Again.

But . It made no fucking sense.

Geordie putting a giant starship back together on the weekend by himself.

W t f.

Don't even get me started on the Enterprise F and G.

The writing is as bad on this show as it was on the 2009 movie.

Nonsense.

No understanding of physics let alone the universe of trek.

Your rebuttal may be to say that this show is indeed written by actual people who have written for trek before. But it sure doesn't feel like it.

It sure doesn't taste like trek.

It like tastes like slop. Sloppy slop.

Stop it.

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thatonegaytheaterkid · 3 years

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I hope you don't mind me asking something again 🥲 I had an idea of what Class A would be like with a classmate that's like Xiangling. I feel like the clssmate would feed the class nutritional meals all day every day and they would just thrive because of them 😅

I love Xiangling but istg she's so underrated it should be illegal-

Class 1-A with someone with a Xiangling type personality

- When it comes to academics, you're definitely on the smarter half of the class, you're able to memorize things easily so it aids you when you have to study, but if someone were to ask you something on the spot then your head goes blank and you can't think

- When it comes to combat it's most likely that you're the most agile in the class, you're extremely good at acrobatics which makes you light on your feet causing you to be able to dodge any attacks from anyone with ease, factoring in your quirk you're quit the formidable enemy on the battlefield

- Before going to UA you were/still are a famous and renowned chief known in multiple big countries all around the world

- Both you and your father are well known for both of your amazing cooking skills and unique dishes, you specifically tend to use more unconventional ingredients that would usually gross out others

- You see any and everything edible as a potential ingredient so using things like insects and certain plants don't phase you

- Whenever you're trying out another one of your strange recipes in the kitchen in the dorm building, sometimes your classmates like to watch you while you do it since you're really energetic so it's fun watching you go around the kitchen preparing and make everything

- One time Koda wanted to watch you while you were making something but then he saw a whole plate of insects on the counter and got horrified and ran away, you felt bad and ended up making a separate dish for him to give to him at his dorm, it turned out to be his new favourite food

- You like having the most fresh ingredients possible, as would any chef, so you like going into the forest next to the school to find whatever you can use to make something, you usually end up with some berries and one time you caught a rabbit, you ended up having to free it because the class wouldn't let you kill it

- You know know a good bit about pastries as well so you and Sato like baking with each other, your favourite is when you both make brownies since there's so many different things you could add to them

- You're not exactly the most organised person so there's the rare occasion that you'd forget an ingredient to a recipe and spend the entire day trying to remember what it was since you don't write down any of the recipes you have, since Deku really enjoys watching you cook he's memorised a good few of your dishes and decided to make a recipe book for you so you wouldn't forget anything, so now whenever you make something new you always write it down on there

- Deku also really likes asking about you and your father and how you got so famous for your cooking at such a young age, you love talking about your father so you and Deku end up talking for hours at a time

- Denki, Mina and Kirishma like to give you these challenges where they give you like seven different ingredients and you have to try to make a meal out of it, they usually pick some of the most outrageous things you could think of and by the time you're done whatever you made ends up tasting like a five star meal

- Your favourite things to make is anything that has lots of spice in it, Bakugou knows this so he made a challenge with you for you to make a dish with a ton of spice and see if he can eat it with a straight face until the plate is clean, the two of you do this really often and a majority of the times he's lost, he doesn't even get mad whenever he loses since he just really likes anything you make, especially when it's hot enough to make his tongue blister

- Outside of cooking you're really easy to scare and tend to get pranked by Denki and Sero a lot, one time you accidentally hit Sero with a wok directly in his stomach as a reflex by mistake when he went up behind you and scared you, of course you apologised about a million times afterwards but it's a funny memory

- You get a lot of questions about the different places you've been too and what they were like, sometimes instead of explaining it you make a specific food that you learned and modified and make it for the class and pretty much just give them that and off the taste alone it explains your entire time there to them

- You're favourite time is at dinner, you really love making food for the entire class and you've basically memorised everyone's taste pallet, you love just watching as everyone starts eating and one by one everyone looks like they've ascended to heaven, everyone always looks so relaxed and happy, afterwards everyone ends up getting some of the best sleep in their lives

- Every time you cook for the class Iida always thanks you like you just rescued him from a near death experience, same with pretty much everyone else but he's always the first

- Don't even get me started on Uraraka, everytime you make anything for her she's always mind blown that she's getting it for free, like this, all this, is for free?? She's always so grateful for anything you make since she always feels like she's floating in a sea of clouds and nothing could possibly happen whenever she easts anything you make

- Whenever Todoroki eats anything you decide to make for him he always feels a strange sense of peace and warmth in him, he's always so happy whenever he gets the chance to try anything you make, though he doesn't really show how happy he is on the outside he's absolutely ecstatic on the inside

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gotnofucks · 3 years

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Chemical Romance

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Summary: Chris won’t have you running away from him. You’re his. He owns your heart, and now he’ll own all of you.

Words: 4.5k

Warnings: RPF, smut, slight dubcon(ish), jealous and possessive Chris, toxic relationship, recording without permission, forced marriage

A/N: I wrote this months ago and pulled it out to share it with my bestie @donutloverxo . Berry finally convinced me to post this and helped me beta this. Babe, I love you!

You were way past your teenage years, and yet you had the urge to giggle like one. If you licked your lips, you could still taste the trace of wine that had stained his lips. The memory of them pressing against you, brushing gently until they tangled in a mix of tongue and teeth had a delicious heat burning in your face. This was a good date, the third good date with a good man you met, and you were excited for more.

Looking over your shoulder you saw the lights of his car disappearing in the dark of night and you sighed contently, shutting your door behind you and dropping your keys in the bowl by the door. All of a sudden, your body broke into goosepimples, a chill settling over you and it took you a moment to understand why. Your body was recognizing the dark presence before your mind could.

“Good evening sweetheart. Had a good date?”

The door was right behind you, you could easily grab your car keys right now and run away. And yet all you could do was hold onto the wall as your knees trembled. You’d never been good at running away from him anyway.

Chris was lounging on your sofa, watching you with those arresting blue eyes that you knew changed shades with his mood. His beard was thicker than the last you’d seen him, and his lips were pulled into a sardonic smirk, eyes glinting furiously.

“How?” You sputtered, still rooted to your spot. You could run, you should run, but you knew you wouldn’t go far. He let you go only so far to give you a false sense of achievement, a mere taste of relief and freedom until he snatched you back to himself.

“I always think that every time you leave, it would be the last. You’ll realize that its futile, you’ll realize that we’re meant to be together.” Chris said, “But never did I imagine you to be stupid enough to be with another man.”

His voice had been described as dreamy by many, even by yourself, but right now it only rang of danger and anger. Softness was Chris’s weapon, to deliver the meanest words with a smile that was poison sweet. One time, you had loved to taste that poison yourself. Did it still run in your veins and taint you?

Looking at you from under his lashes, he spread his legs and beckoned you to him. You gulped before following, not daring to look away from him until you were before him.

“Kneel” He ordered softly. You knees hit the ground, the rug digging into your skin. He watched you watch him, eyes locked in a dialog of their own until his rough hand caressed the skin of your cheek. You leaned into his touch, hating yourself for being a slave to him and your desire. Even on your knees, the familiar feeling of peace flooded your senses. Nothing made you feel as alive as worshiping him. And nothing killed you as much as loving him.

“Please” You begged, pressing a kiss into his palm. “Don’t do this to me.”

Chris regarded you with a look that was almost tender, his blue eyes staring into your own as if unearthing every secret you had ever kept from him. He pulled you closer, close enough to have you raise up and hold his shoulders while his lips brushed gently against yours.

“For as long as I live, you are mine. You know that. Why must you fight it?”

It had been a couple months since you last saw him, since the pads of his fingers had glided over the curves of your body and claimed you as his. You melted, you melted like the butter in a hot pan, sizzling with the heat of his ardor. One taste of him and you were ready to forget why you had left him, why you had packed up and left his house when he was out. Chris Evans didn’t just play your body, he also played your heart. He loved you so hard that it hurt.

You wondered if you should fight, if you should scream or cry. But you knew it the moment you walked inside your house tonight: you were going nowhere but to him. He held you as you captured his lips in yours, a hand fisting his hair and tugging. He pulled until you were on his lap, his beard scratching your skin and reminding you of all the ways he had marked you before.

Panting, you pulled away when he breathily whispered your name, eyes liquid and feral and kind. He was a man of many layers and you had unveiled the darkest of them. He no longer hid the rawest parts of him, and you never knew if it was a good thing or not.

“Pack up, I’m taking you back home.” He said, hands settling on your waist. “I am not spending one more night in a bed without you.”

You nodded, stealing another kiss until you surrendered to his demands. Again.

Dodger ran to you, whining and wagging his tail as you sat down to give him better access. You’d missed your furry companion, his coat soft on your cheek when you nuzzled into him. Chris chuckled, rolling your bags into his room while you and Dodger had your little reunion.

“I am so sorry Bubba” You cooed to him, scratching behind his ears. “I missed you so much. Did you miss me, hmm?”

Dodger barked, rubbing his body against you. You laughed, cuddling your little boy. You’d missed waking upto him snuggled by your feet and the soft pattering of his feet as he followed you around.

“He didn’t eat right for a week after you left. You were being a bad mommy.” Chris said coming behind you. He petted Dodger before pulling you up by your arm, your chest flushed to his. You loved how he smelled of coffee and beer and cinnamon. He tasted of them too, bitter and addictive.

Your fingers traced a path in his beard, lips pressing into the hollow of his throat. It scared you how much power he had over you. You’d promised yourself you’ll break away from his hold when you found him snooping in your phone again. His possessiveness knew no bounds. If Chris had it his way, he’d hide you in a castle made only for his eyes. But right now, in the heaven of his arms, you couldn’t remember why you left him in the first place.

“I am sorry.” You whispered, hugging him tight. His arms came around you, holding you so possessively close that even death couldn’t rip you apart. Chemical romance, that’s how Scott had explained your relationship once. Your friends had stopped complaining, had stopped warning after losing count over how often you broke up and got back together.

“I am so pissed at you.” He said in your ear, breath warm on your skin. “I want to erase every lingering trace of that man’s touch from your body. But more than that, I need to remind you who you belong to.”

You refused to look at him, burying your head in his chest even as you held him tighter.

“I belong to you. I know it baby, I made a mistake.” You said, voice muffled. Chris tutted, pushing your face away firmly as he forced you to meet his intense gaze.

“Here I am, feeling guilty for even touching other women during a scene that is supposed to be my job. And my girl goes around fucking other men because we had an argument?” He hissed, a nerve throbbing in his temple. You pouted, bottom lip wobbling as you tried not to cry. You were raised to be a strong woman, someone who could speak for herself. How was it so easy for this man to reduce you to a sniveling woman for something that wasn’t even your fault.

“I didn’t fuck him.” You countered and Chris’s eyes flashed. You stared at each other until Chris practically growled and dragged you towards the bedroom. Dodger trailed behind you, stopping once Chris ordered him to stay put.

His bedroom, a space you had shared and abandoned all too many times was the same as always. It reeked of his aftershave and cologne, the stars winking at you from the window that overlooked the ground. Chris shut the door, rounding on you and pushing you towards the bed.

“You didn’t fuck him?” He spat, ticked off. “You let him touch you, you let him put his hands on what belongs to me.”

You shivered as your back met the cold sheets, bouncing slightly on the mattress. His anger was scary, but more than that it was exciting. It was you who had brought this strong, powerful man to this animalistic side. You, who could make him scowl and shout and get his heart pumping enough to bring blood to his face. You, who made him primitive as he held you down and fucked you into submission.

“We only kissed.” You said, knowing how to provoke him. That kiss was nice, it was sweet. But your body craved rough and hard, it craved to be possessed and used and worshiped. It craved Chris who left his handprints on your butt and his spent in your cunt. It craved Chris who kissed you until you were out of breath, who whispered the filthiest things to you as he buried himself in your warmth over and over until you were too hoarse to even cry.

He knew it, he read that in your eyes and in your touch that seared through the layers of clothes on his body. He knew you were getting under his skin on purpose, hurting him the way he hurt you so many times. Neither of you held back.

You tore away at his clothes, bucking your hips frantically in a bid to get closer. Chris cursed, squeezing your ass in his large hands and grounding his hardness on your thigh.

“You are testing me” He warned, naked flesh touching yours and hands entwining. You ignored him, the wetness dripping down your core begging his attention.

“Eat me” You cried, wiggling under him. He held fast, rubbing his cock on your abdomen, groaning softly. He nuzzled your neck, kissing softly on the spot he knew drove you wild. His weight prevented you from moving too much, not allowing you to do anything for yourself.

“You don’t tell me what to do baby. Not after letting another man touch you. Not after you walked out on me again.” He said angrily, forcing his gentle touch on your body that craved his roughness. You sobbed against his mouth, getting drunk on his lazy kisses and feather soft caresses. You knew what he was doing, you knew he wanted you to break and beg. And you had no dignity.

“Please” You begged, pathetically with tears in your eyes. “Give me what I want Chris. I’ll be good to you, I promise.”

He smirked, sucking a pert nipple in his mouth and rolling it between his tongue. You moaned, struggling to move more. It wasn’t enough to have you under him. He needed more than your compliance. He needed your surrender, he needed you to love him with a hunger as great as his. He was greedy.

“Even when you beg, you look like a goddess. You’re my angel, but I’m not gonna let you go to heaven. We’ll sin together in hell.”

He dove in, tongue swiping away your juice in a practiced move as you howled at the suddenness of his attack. Your thighs held his head captive between their plump flesh, mewls spilling from your mouth without restraint as he finally gave you what you wanted. You pulled on his hair, steering him closer to your core that was flaming under his mouth and flooding with pleasure.

“Oh Chris!” You moaned, writhing and trembling. You had missed his beard scratching the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs, missed his nails digging in your flesh to keep you steady, missed his tongue poking inside your warm cavern to taste your sweet nectar. Chris never worshiped you like a devotee to the lord. He worshipped you like a man summoning the devil, by spilling blood and leaving marks that stain the soul.

“Look at you go darling, so beautiful” He praised, easing a finger inside you and curling it. You threw your head back, shattering with an orgasm that took your breath away. Pleasure was a feeling you were familiar with, but combined with Chris’s love and anger, it formed the most intoxicating mix that got you dizzy.

He kissed the swollen head of your clit, gently easing you down from your high with praises whispered directly to your leaking cunt. He cupped your pussy, grinding his heels against you as your eyes met.

“Nobody else will touch you here. Or anywhere else for that matter.” He ordered and you nodded, still desperate for him. His cock was red and angry, warm drops of precum leaking over your stomach and you tugged at him, asking to fill you up.

“Chris, I need you inside me. Please.”

He crawled up and laid beside you, jerking you on top of him. Your hands found his chest, lightly playing with his nipples and the spattering of hair there before moving down to cup his hardness and his balls. He jerked at the first contact, closing his eyes as his breath hitched and you smiled at your own effect over him. You could reduce him to a mess just as well he could to you.

Pumping his length, you licked it slowly, lathering it with your saliva. You remembered the day you’d named it Cumstopher Rogers and he’d slapped you with it, making you choke on him until you had to apologize.

“Put me inside you now because if I have to take over, I’ll choose which hole it goes in and you probably won’t like it.” He growled in impatience. You clenched, his threats going straight to your core.

You positioned yourself over him, sinking slowly and gently, feeling every part of him against your spongy walls. With your thighs flush to his, you stopped to just let the feeling of fullness last a little longer. No matter how many times you’d been with each other, the feeling of Chris being so deep inside you never got old. If you could, you’d never be empty.

“All my holes like your cock Mr. Evans. And I? I love it and your butt and your chest and arms and face and everything else.”

You moved at a slow pace, bouncing gently while holding onto his thighs. Taking his hand in yours, you placed it on your chest, asking him to play with your nipples as you rode him.

“You feeling powerful, baby? You feeling good bouncing on my dick?” He asked, pinching a nipple almost to the point of pain. You nodded, leaning down to kiss him as he started thrusting up a little, hitting your cervix when he went too deep. You rolled your belly, clenching your muscles around his length so that his eyes flew open and hands dug into the softness of your butt.

“Oh Chris, I missed this.” You told him, tasting the sweat on his temple. He nodded, his huge arms wrapping around you and pulling you intimately close.

“I missed you too, which is why I will make sure you never leave me. This is not your power move, this is mine.” He darkly murmured and your eyes met his in confusion. He looked at the side and you followed his gaze, mouth dropping open at the camera that blinked at you with a red light on.

“What the fuck, Chris?” You shout, trying to move away when he rolled you over and under him, thrusting in hard.

“Oh yes, what the fuck baby” He said, holding your wrists as he picked up his pace. “You think it’s okay to pack a bag and leave me every time? You think it’s okay to date other men, to kiss other men? You are mine. And if anyone needs proof of that, now I can show it to them.”

You cried out as he went harder, a pressure building deep inside your belly. Tears escaped your eyes, gazing into blue ones that you loved and hated with a passion. You could have asked him to stop now, you could shout that you don’t want him and he’s sick. But you didn’t. You knew he would stop if you really wanted him to, and as much as your heart broke and your chest tightened with hurt, you loved him. You loved his twisted ways to keep you with him. You loved it when he went above and beyond, got crazy in his desire for you. You were wanted. You were cherished.

“Fuck you.” You cursed, meeting every thrust of his with a raise of your hips. Your eyes closed, sweat dripping down your body as you let the animalistic part of you take over, screaming and tearing and fucking each other like two people whose only goal in life was to be embedded in the other’s heart and psyche.

“I’d like to see you try to walk out tomorrow after tonight.” Chris said, delivering punishing strokes that were agonizing and titillating, that were fire and ice. You held onto him, leaving crescent shaped scars to join the numerous tattoos across his body. He took you apart, fucked you so good all you could do was say him name and fall in a glittery haze of his presence. He came inside you, filling you to the brim and crushing your body with his weight.

You weren’t leaving, that much was obvious.

Throwing in your clothes haphazardly in the bag, you promised yourself this would be the last time you did this. You will not come back to this house and this bed. Chris and you were done for good. The past few months had followed the same pattern. You both rekindling the dying flame of your relationship, mending the broken hearts and trust until it went back to hell.

There were too many arguments, too much shouting and angry sex. Every time you sat down to talk, it ended with your legs in the air. Your mother was right. He wasn’t right for you. Chris wanted to be your hero and your villain. He wanted you to think of nobody but him. Any friends and family that warned you against him had to be cut off. He’ll dismiss every article the paparazzi published about him but would throw a fit if you so much as smiled at the cashier in the grocery store. He kept you close like a dog on a leash, feeling jealous at the very sight of you talking to any man. You’d wanted to give this relationship a chance, but as of twenty minutes ago, Chris had made sure it was over.

You wondered about taking your pictures, but it was better to stay away from any temptations. This was happening, and as much as it broke your heart, you will not come back to him. Zipping up your bag, you straightened just as Chris stormed inside the room, jaw clenched in anger.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He barked, “Put your stuff back. I’ll be damned if I let you leave me again.”

You scowled at him, wiping the stray tears from your eyes. He had no right to ask anything of you, not after what he had just done.

“Fuck off Chris. I am leaving, and you can’t stop me.” You shouldered past him, sadly looking at Dodger who was whining softly as he watched you move. He had seen this happen enough times to know that you’re not coming home.

Chris marched behind you, snatching your wrist and pulling you back to himself. The blue in his eyes was darker, like the sky covered in thunder clouds. You squirmed, pushing against him.

“You. Are. Not. Leaving.” He hissed, looking scary and mad.

“How dare you? After what you did today?” You sobbed, hitting your fists on his chest. He held your jaw, bringing your face closer to him so he could peer into your watery eyes.

“I proposed! I got down on one knee. What the fuck is your problem?” He shouted, spittle flying from his mouth.

You shook your head, looking at him with an expression of disbelief. Is he that oblivious?

“Marriage is permanent Chris” You said, voice suddenly soft. “Marriage is living your life devoted to your partner. We can’t break up and leave and come back again. It’s a responsibility. You and I, we haven’t been able to keep a stable relationship. How the hell will we keep a happy marriage?”

Chris frowned, not liking what you said. He pushed you against the wall, caging you in with his huge arms on either side. You could smell the chocolate and wine on his breath from dinner, his hair all messed up from when he ran his hands through it. On his neck still hung the necklace you’d got him.

“Look at me” He said, pressing his forehead to yours. You breathed deeply, finding it difficult to maintain an eye contact as charged with anger and passion as this one. “You love me, you still love me. It’s all in your eyes. Why won’t you marry me?”

You wanted to curl into a ball and cry. Why did loving him have to be so difficult? Was love worth the fights, the tears and pain and loss of independence? Was loving him enough to keep you going? You were so tired of this back and forth with him. You’d never even talked about marriage before, having been too busy trying to keep any sort of relationship alive. Why would he do this to you?

As your limbs got heavier, you leaned forward and hugged him. You held him to yourself, soaking in his warmth and smell inside you for what would be the last time. You could not give up so much of yourself to sustain this love. Soon enough, there would be nothing more to give and the love would be dead.

“You need to let me go Christopher” You said to him, lips close to his ear. “You need to understand that love is only the beginning. I can’t keep doing this anymore. Please, just let me go.”

Chris hugged you tighter, his head resting over yours and heart beating strong beneath your hand. He was your night, full of twinkling stars and dark mysteries. But dawn was approaching fast, and you needed to bid goodbye to the moon to greet the sun that awaited you.

“Never.” He promised, “You are never leaving me again. I’ll fucking make sure of it.”

He picked you up suddenly, ignoring your protests as he carried you back into the bedroom. Kicking your bag aside, he dropped you on the bed, raising a finger to stop you. He took out the ring from his pocket, the very one you had refused this evening and held it to you.

“Put this on.” He ordered and you rubbed your eyes in exasperation.

“No.”

You both glared at each other, adrenaline coursing through your veins. Fighting with Chris had always been a thrill, more often than not ending with wild sex on any and all surfaces in sight. But today you were determined to end it. You’d not let yourself become weak at the sight of his cock.

“Okay then, you’ve left me no choice.” Chris said. He picked up his phone and tapped away on it, doing god knows what. You sighed, getting up and putting your stuff together again, ignoring his presence behind you. Chris threw his phone on the bed, looking stoically at you work. You were just folding the last of your clothes when your phone started buzzing. You ignored it for a minute, but it kept up, almost falling off the table with its vibrations.

“What the fuck” You gasped, looking at the hundreds of notifications pouring in as more followed. You quickly opened your Instagram to see you’d been tagged by Chris.

And she said YES!

Below that caption was a picture of the both of you from a couple months ago, cuddled up and smiling at each other.

Comments and likes from everyone were popping in, and soon enough, you saw your mother’s call. You stared at Chris, utterly in disbelief. What had he done?

“Try saying no now. You’d be the bitch who broke Chris Evans’s heart, the bitch who played him. Try walking in public between people who’d see you only as a slut and nothing more.”

Your world came crashing down. You were not some hotshot celebrity like Chris. You were just a girl trying to live her life the best way she knew how to, and how it ended up entangled with this man you’d never understand. Even if you shouted from the rooftops the truth of today, no one would believe you. Chris’s fans would tear you to shreds, destroy your life with their mean comments and attacks. And your family would not be spared either. They’ll be exposed to a celebrity scandal, dragged through the mud along with your good name.

“Oh god Chris, what have you done?” You choked out, falling to your knees. He came before you, gently caressing your head before kneeling in front of you. Cupping your face, he kissed you deep and hard, countering your hate with his love that hit you like your own kryptonite.

“I told you. I told you I’ll never let you leave.” He breathed against your mouth, pulling you closer. You dug your nails in his arms, hurting him with the hurt he just caused you, but he didn’t even flinch.

“You’re a monster” You said, chest heaving with emotions.

“Yes, I am. But you know what darling?” He said sweetly, “Even after this, you still love me. I am a monster, but I am a monster you created and one you love.”

You ended up on the bed, sprawled underneath him again. Even with icy hate in your eyes, your heart burned with love for him. It was unnatural, it was chemical and wrong. And yet, it was your reality. He was yours, no matter what he did. And you were his, regardless of every protest that you ever made.

“Now, I’ll ask this one more time. Will you marry me?” He asked softly, looking at you like you were all he ever saw.

“Yes” You breathed, watching silently as he slipped the ring on your finger and kissed it. Meeting your eyes, he settled over your body, his arousal pulsing over your thigh. Sealing the deal with a kiss, Chris went to remove your shirt.

“Then let’s celebrate. After we’re done, we can call our families with the good news.”

#chris evans x reader #dark!chris evans x reader #chris x reader #dark!chris evans #chris evans #chris evans rpf

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anaiswriterr · 3 years

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The Dragon Kings Queen

Pairing: Dragon King!Bakugou x Queen!Reader

Rating: M

Warning: This is part seven, I’d like to point out be aware: 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝗼𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝗺𝐞𝐬, 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐞, 𝐠𝗼𝐫𝐞, 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐭𝐜. Please don’t read if you are not comfortable with it, and if you’re under the age of 18+ I will give a warning when it becomes NSFW but at the moment it’s SFW. Todays chapter does include gore, death, killing, hunting, sickness, etc.

Synopsis: ➪ When the word marriage crossed your mind, you believed you’d marry someone you loved. Not this brute of a King. So here you are standing at the end on an alter, pushing away the urge to run and fight. Possibly start a new life, instead of being dragged into a loveless marriage. But for the sake of your people.. They say he’s not what rumors make him out to be, but how can you believe that when his eyes burn into yours; just as fiery as before. How could you, ever love someone as barbaric as him…

- chapter seven: fevers and night terrors -

•

Your memory is clouded from the prior events you participated in that afternoon. But the foul taste of blood and uncooked heart follow up your throat and out into a toilet bowl mock you as handmaidens rub your back in comfort. Melody soothes your nausea with warm tea meanwhile the rest pat wet cloths to your burning skin.

How did you get back to the castle? You have no idea. Absolutely no recollection of the journey back.

But you are happy they bathed and dressed you in a comfortable nightgown, tending to your ever needs and healing the scraps and wounds on your skin. Picking and pulling the splinters from your palms, scrubbing the blood, grime, and dirt off your chest.

Your eyes narrow attempting to fight off sleep.

Four girls gently escort you back to bed, tucking you into the sheets, folding a small cool rag and placing it on your forehead. A gold bell sits beside you, placed on a nightstand where you could easily reach out for. A bin is on the floor beside you as well, you thank them knowing there was something you could easily turn to.

The night was rough.

And your fever rose.

Your body trembles in the sheets, your achy muscles pester your sore lower portion of the small of your back, you lean over, hunched over the mattress. Your body violently lurches forwards, with you stomach clenching, tears prick out from the corners of your eyes.

It hurts so much.

Melody rubs small circles on the small of your back; humming to herself soothing you. "I should get the King, he's been wanting to see you-"

"No." You cough, sternly your eyes narrow at the young girl. "He shouldn't see me in this state, I'm weak, tired, and sick. His presence wouldn't help." You swallow dryly. Eyeing the dagger resting neatly on your nightstand, you feel a hand reach out to rub small circle around your wrist.

Nodding in understanding Melody wipes your forehead, "Will you be alright?"

You give her a quick smile, just wanting to be alone, "Yes, go rest. I'll be fine." Melody pushes herself off the mattress, checking a final time your temperature. "I'll be back in the morning with tea and light crackers, sleep well your majesty."

As the door closes shut you lay down slowly into the pillows, careful of your sore belly, and attempt to drift off into sleep. The window blows cool air into your room, the lace curtains dance throughout the night as the moonlight shines on your face. You eventually drift feeling a lot more better then you were previously. Your stomach howls, growling at the emptiness it pained. Your head still felt dizzy - lightheaded and fuzzy -, even with your stomach empty you could still feel the linger of nausea, the sour taste on your taste buds. It's nearly bearable.

Nearly.

Surely not as terrible as an hour ago.

***

You are running through the woods, heavy footsteps follow closely behind you. You are screaming, well, you think you are. Your mouth opens in a large 'O' but no sound escapes. Just the sound of the deep huffs and grunts of the creature behind you chasing you. You scream out for Bakugou, you don't know why.

You have no idea why you'd scream out for his help, but it wasn't like he was any help. You are running circles, the same three berry bushes pop up ever forty-five seconds on your right.

Every corner you turn you see Bakugou, cheering and laughing.

It's all just a game. Some sick kill the queen culture.

You keep screaming.

Until a hand covers your mouth, silencing you. Your eyes shoot wide open, staring into a pair ruby red eyes, you subconsciously reach out for your dagger and press it to his throat.

"Don't do something you'll regret,"

"How do you know I won't regret it?"

He remains quiet, for the first time in forever it seems. Your grip on the blades handle loosens, his gaze moves to your lips. Only for a second. Then back up to your E/C eyes, "You were screaming."

You arch a brow, "Nightmare."

You realize the dagger is still pressing on his neck, pulling away you drop it to your side. Your eyes wondering to the ceiling above you in attempts to run away from his wandering gaze. The silence is awkward between the two of you, his forearms cage you in.

"Why are you here?"

"I said you were screaming - I wanted to check up on you."

"I-I'm fine,"

His arms are strong. Firm and deadly. They cage you in like a wingless bird, what do you say now. Your stomach clenches again, but not because you were nauseous - the feel had already subdued with sleep. It's the fact that you husband, who also happened to be very handsome was hovering over you. "You should leave." You state firmly, unable to look at him.

He's quite.

The only sound you can hear is the howling wind from outside as it hits the curtains of your balconies window.

"How are you feeling?"

It's an odd question coming from him, "I'm fine. I- feel better."

"I don't believe you."

You're taken aback left babbling between words, "I feel better, no thanks to you and this kingdom's parliament. You entered my cambers without my consent and I'd like you to leave - immediately."

His hands press harder onto the mattress before shifting his weight onto the headboard above you, "You're a feisty little one, even when you're burning with fever though I suppose it is going down. You fell into my arms, remember?"

You laugh with delight, "It was either you or the gravel beneath me. And I will not fall onto the ground below you at your feet. If you're here to pick a fight then you are mistaken. I do not have the strength nor patience to deal with you." The words came spitefully out of your mouth, trailing away from your lips. He smirks above you, eyeing you from below.

"Lets get things straight here, I came to check on my wife-"

"Spare me your savior complexities for a later dat-"

You feel his hand move down to your cheek, his knuckles just barely grazing over the soft skin and relaxing at your throat; "Your skin is so soft." His palm gently tightens, "I didn't want this. This marriage was a truce, a trade. To stop the war on the northern fronts we needed each other - our kingdoms." He let's go of your throat, your heart is beating so fast you can barley catch up.

"Tomorrow you will see your people, they want to spare a glance at their new rightful Queen. The real party is tomorrow, you'll meet your soldiers the day after on the outskirts." He says fixing his hair, you push yourself up from the mattress, "We're going to the outskirts?"

"Yes, I have people, things you need to meet."

"What things?" You ask, watching as he turns his back to you ready to leave your room. He looks back at you through your mirror, smiling hiding the glint of mischief behind his smirk, "You're the Queen of dragons now,"

You nod slowly at his inclination. Wondering where the conversation would lead to.

"You have to meet your children."

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mingkii · 3 years

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LOVE AGAIN ─✎ 송.민기

❖❳；Pairing; Song Mingi x Fem!Reader (ft. P1h's keeho, itzy's ryujin, and wooyoung)

❖❳；Genre; Greek mythology au, angst, reincarnation au.

❖❳；Words ; 6.2k

❖❳；Warnings; Mentions of death.

❖❳；Synopsis; A mission to find your lover who was reborn in the mortal world became a mission for heartbreak as you watched him fall in love with someone else.

❖❳；A/n; I honestly don't know what happened near the end, very disappointing but oh well. Not very proud of this so im sorry and don't get your hopes up.

❖❳； Note; My entry for @/sleepylixie and @/delicatewerewolfsoul 's hamartia collab. This might contain inaccurate representations of greek gods but for the sake of the story, just go with it. Slightly modernized as well.

The sun rises on the horizon, casting light all over Olympus, waking the gods in slumber, reminding them of the work they need to do. However, you wanted to fight the sun for rising so early. The rays piercing through the depths of the ocean, just enough to peek through the windows of your room.

You stir under the covers, not wanting to get up. The light blinding your closed eyes, preventing you from going back to sleep. You were honestly hoping you won't wake up the next day. You didn't want to wake up in agony knowing there's nothing to wake up to. You still picture his crescent eyes when he smiles, his laugh that echoes in your ears as if he is there with you. His hands that felt soft and warm left a mark on your skin, reminding you of how he held you in his arms.

Every night you see him in your dreams— for a while at least. Your heart was hurt, it wanted to remind you of all the things you could've done, but it knew that if you kept dreaming about him, you would have died grieving years ago.

A loud knock on your door suddenly erupted, a groan escaped your lips. You rolled to the other side trying to bury your head under the covers to drown out the sound. Then, your door busted open, making you sit up in surprise.

"What the fuck," you furrowed your brows, watching your father fix the dislocated door hinge.

"Don't use such language on me, young lady," he leans his trident beside the door. "You have a very important schedule to meet your suitors today."

Your eyes widen, "Suitors?!" You shrieked, your father's face contorts.

“Father, I think this has gone long enough for you to know that I am not interested.” he let out a sigh. He’s well aware of that.

"Look, I understand, but I will not have you sulk for the rest of your life just because that good-for-nothing son of Athena died," your blood boiled at his words.

"No father, I don’t think you do understand," You said with resentment.

You tried to bury the tears back down, not wanting to cry in front of your father. The pent up anger made you want to lash out like what he said was the last straw but your pride was much stronger.

"It's rude to keep them in line, they've travelled far just to get here, so I suggest you make yourself presentable and be there as soon as possible," his last words before shutting your door closed behind him.

The knick-knacks on your shelf shook as your father slammed the door shut. He wasn't mad, he was just….strict, as your father and god of the sea, you are under his territory thus, giving you no choice but to follow him.

You laid back on your bed, pulling the covers, letting out a muffled scream into the blanket. Only kids get treated like this, he acts like you aren't already a hundred years old.

You didn't want to meet another batch of mermen with plastic smiles and fake personalities. They were only after you because of your title, daughter of Poseidon, god of the sea, with a legacy that soon passes unto you. You had sisters and brothers, you didn't understand why it had to be you, but Poseidon himself already had it all planned.

You swam near the big stadium-like structure, with large pillars that were carved so intricately in quartz. The end of the stadium planted Poseidon's throne where he sat so elegantly. You hid behind the pillars, spotting the men that were seated to the side, waiting for your arrival, but you already decided you weren't going to attend. Not this time.

You took the longest route to Olympus, making sure no one spots you, escaping the suffocating vast seas that used to be called home.

"You know one day I could get killed by your dad," Wooyoung set the teacups filled with hot liquid on the dining table where you sat.

It's been a while since you set foot on land, you didn't miss it, the painful after-effects of walking for too long did make you wonder how land dwellers live.

"He won't since I made him promise it," your cheeky smile made him roll his eyes.

"But won't he easily find you here?"

"He will but he couldn't be bothered to travel all the way here," you took a sip from the cup, hot liquid running down your throat.

"I'll be home by sundown, can't have him wash Olympus just to find me," you force out a laugh, wooyoung giving you a sympathetic look.

He knows you are still mourning. Deep inside you are still in pain, but you try to keep it hidden.

"You know, it's been years and he is still bringing me these men I barely even know and he wants me to pick one to marry?" You planted your forehead on the table, hiding your face in frustration. "It's getting annoying." After those annoying years of having to pretend you are ok and just sitting pretty in front of dozens of merpeople, making yourself look like a prize in a glass box waiting for a winner to take you home.

But of course, it's still your choice and you chose to be with none of them.

"Were any of them attractive at least?" You hear the familiar charming voice. You look up to see Wooyoung's mother— aphrodite— adorned in her usual attire, laced with gold sequences, a headpiece in gold, and jewellery that complimented her skin.

You shook your head as you gave her a soft smile, "They always have this forced appearance to look strong and the wide creepy smiles that they think will help attract me to them," she listens to your rant, pouting slightly, "What a shame, you know your father's taste was never that good," she winked. You knew she was talking about your mother, whom you didn't know that well since she is always focusing on your brothers.

"I thought you went out early," Wooyoung questioned. Aphrodite cupped her son's cheeks, kissing the top of his nose.

"I just forgot something dear," you giggled at her ways of babying her son. Fixing his hair and touching up the light makeup he puts on every day. You can't deny how attractive Wooyoung is, you could see the features that he inherited from his mother.

"Poseidon won't stop what he is doing though, I suggest you do as his wishes y/n, or you'll face his consequences," strips of memory to that day cross your mind again. It was truly painful to recall, it made your heart clenched and you wanted to scream your head off.

"Look, whatever it is you want to do, just make sure it isn't something stupid," Wooyoung held your hand in his, rubbing your skin with his thumb. You remembered the last stupid thing you did.

You were grateful to have met someone like Wooyoung, he has always been there for you. Even though your father had been skeptical of him for so long, he still let you be around him.

But you can't promise him this time because another stupid idea just popped up in your head.

"Are you kidding y/n? Didn't we just talk about this?" Wooyoung follows you from behind as you walk through the forest. The last time you were here was the day your world fell apart.

You swore to not cross paths where it reminded you of him but right now, it is important.

"Look, demigods are bound to be reincarnated, there's a chance I could see him again," you explained, stepping on sticks and pebbles, slashing through vines and large leaves with your bronze dagger. Mingi wasn't like you or wooyoung who had both parents that are gods. Like Athena, he was created by her from her mind. He wasn't born….normal.

"And then what? What will you do if you see him?"

In all honesty, you didn't plan that far, all you thought of was to meet mingi in the mortal world. Wooyoung's concern for you just became worse when the silence answers his question. You have no plan, you just wanted to see mingi again.

You ignored Wooyoung's continuous nagging until you reached your destination. The tree that grew sweet magical berries that can only be found deep in the forests of Olympus. The berry that could help the gods enter the mortal realm.

"Y/n…." Worry settles in, Wooyoung knows the side effects of these berries. You weren't as powerful as your parents who were able to visit the mortal realm on your own, you needed help and you were certainly not gonna ask your father.

"I'll be fine," you picked a few handfuls of berries and stuffed them in your bag, "Atlantis won't be that far, If I need to, I’ll just come back." You smiled at Wooyoung.

"I leave tomorrow."

"What about your dad? Won't he get mad?" You two made your way back out of the forest, taking the path of where you came from.

"I just told him I'm sleeping at your place for a while," Wooyoung freezes in place. As expected of his role as your best friend, he's responsible for covering you up.

"You owe me big time."

Arriving at the mortal realm, alone and slightly scared. But the sight of what seemed to be the city made you giddy all of the sudden.

You walked around exploring the beautiful structures of the city. Tall buildings surrounding the area, billboards, and giant screens with lights and flashing colours. You were overwhelmed at first but it was quite interesting. It was nothing like you have seen before.

There were tons of people who wore casual attire, some wore suits as they travelled to work. Big buses and cars drove by in the streets— you almost got run over by one, not knowing the purpose of the blinking traffic light; the horrendous sound of the car horn almost did make your ears bleed.

Settling down on one of the park benches, you took a break from walking. The sandals you brought weren't doing any justice for your feet.

Your surroundings were peaceful, pink flowers scattered across the concrete, different coloured leaves decorating the trees, getting ready for the fall season. Suddenly, you felt a gust of wind. The eerie grey smoke rising in front of you. Chills running up your spine, your mind having a clear idea of where it's coming from.

A cold mischievous laugh emitted from within, your initial reaction was to pull out the dagger from your side, clutching the handle tight until your knuckles turned white.

"Relax, it's me," the same annoying voice you dreaded hearing.

"Ryujin, what are you doing here?" You scowled. She was bad news— the spirit of mischief lives within her, wherever she goes, chaos follows.

"Hmm, are you not happy to see me?" Her Cheshire cat-like smile plastered onto her face as she took a seat beside you, crossing her leg on top of the other. Her hair was shorter than the last time you saw her, eyes still full of mischief.

"I was hoping to not see you again after the incident 20 years ago," you spat, hatred lacing your words.

"Right, the poor boy, died so soon," her face turned into a sad look before smiling once again.

Ryujin was the main cause of his death. Your father just made it happen. Leading Mingi to that place in the forest where she knew your father was there, he hated Athena's children, he wouldn't hesitate to kill one in sight.

You wished there was a way to go back in time to stop Ryujin from leading Mingi to his inevitable death. But as expected, she felt no shame or guilt whatsoever.

"What is it that you plan anyway, there is a reason for you to come here, right?"

You kept your mouth closed, not wanting to possibly give your plan away for the spirit of mischief to take its course. And so, you kept quiet. Ryujin clicked her tongue in annoyance. She wished she could read minds, but that's her brother's power.

"Fine, keep it to yourself," she stood up, grumbling something under her breath, "Just so you know, I am not leaving without having a bit of fun," another gust of wind blowing in your direction leaves swirling in a circle on the concrete just below her feet, the puff of smoke covering her figure as she disappeared.

Your mind was in shambles. Usually, she would try and pressure you into answering but she brushed it off so soon.

You let out the breath you didn't know you were holding, the weight suddenly leaving your chest. Sometimes the presence of Ryujin gives you this uneasy feeling, but it was better than getting a visit from her brother. He is ten times worse.

You finally adapted to the mortal world, got a place to stay all by yourself. There were obstacles on the way but you got over them easily.

You lay quietly on the bed, and to be honest, it was a bit uncomfortable. The covers are placed over you up to your neck. You stared at the ceiling, counting rams in hopes of helping you fall asleep. And on your 1117th ram, your eyes finally grew heavy.

But to your dismay, your throat decides that it was parched. You sat up from your bed, wearing your slippers, and made your way to the kitchen. Grabbing a glass and filling it up with water, but before you could take a sip, you saw a figure on your couch.

You dropped the glass, shattering across the floor. The figure whipped his head around and you couldn't believe your eyes. Is this a dream? You must be dreaming… You might have even gone mad.

"Mingi?" You stuttered. You haven't called out that name in so long.

"Y/n, be careful you'll hurt yourself," he stood from the couch, making his way to you. You took a few steps back. Mingi's face shows a look of confusion.

He stepped on the glass unfazed by it. Did he not feel that? Of course, this is a dream, he's not real.

"What's wrong?" His arms out to reach for you.

"N-no, I'm dreaming, this can't be—" you shook your head, tears pricking your eyes. You felt warm hands cup your face, it was so real, your knees so close to giving out.

"What do you mean?" His eyes were the same shade of brown. His hair is styled the same way he always has it in.

"You're real?" Your voice croaked, mingi chuckled. The same smile you saw years ago, but as expected, his face started to fade. This is definitely a dream. It was impossible to have mingi physically there, you saw him….die, right in front of your eyes.

"Of course I'm real," his voice was soft, comforting even. You were really hearing his voice, this is his voice. He pressed his forehead against you, kissing the top of your nose promptly.

At this point, you couldn't stop the tears from falling. You sobbed making mingi pull away and look at you with worry in his eyes.

"Please don't leave me again," you pleaded. You wished it was real, your chest grew even tighter. What kind of cruel punishment is this?

"Why would I leave?" He wiped the tear on your cheek. "I'll always be here," he said in reassurance as he pulled you in his embrace. You missed it so much—you missed him so much. The same warmth was still there, but it eventually started to feel cold. Like Hades was paying a visit to take him back to the underworld.

You finally got to see him again, even if it was only a dream, it really felt like he was there, body and soul present. You didn't want to let him go, there's no way you are losing him again.

His image starts to fade, you start to feel the emptiness again. His hold on your body began to feel like nothing, it was cold like ice. You tried to grip his shirt, keeping him from disappearing. You spewed out pleas, begging him to stay. At Least for a little longer.

But then you woke up, hot liquid running down your face.

You were crying, something you haven't done in a long while. Slapping your cheeks, making sure you were really awake.

"Come one y/n, it was just a dream," you said to yourself out loud.

20 years and you thought you were over him. But those agonizing years were torturous. Everything seemed to remind you of him. Wooyoung almost didn't see you for 18 years until you finally decided to visit him. You wouldn't know what to do if wooyoung was never in your life, you might as well have been asleep for the rest of your life.

The clamshell that sat on your bedside table glowed. It was a magic shell that sends messages back and forth in writing. You gave one to Wooyoung so you could communicate from a distance.

"Did you find him?" The letters glowed as they appeared.

"Not yet." you wrote back, watching the writings disappear indicating that he is reading it.

"Time is ticking y/n." Anxiety washes over you again. Soon the berries won't be enough to hold you there and you'll be needing to come back home.

"Y/n, you there?" A voice startled you, making you almost drop the shell. It would be bad if you did, it was a fragile thing, you could risk shattering it and won't have anything else to communicate with.

"In here!" You called out, quickly hiding the shell in the dresser.

"I brought lunch," mina smiled, holding up a paper bag filled with takeout.

The day you moved in, still exploring the apartment that you rented, you heard a knock on your door.

You peeked through the peephole. A woman stood in front of the door patiently, short brown hair— half of it tied into a ponytail— dressed in a leather jacket and denim pants. She looked about 20, maybe 21 but she doesn't look older than 25.

You almost pulled out your dagger but resisted, remembering that they are mortals and you could get in trouble. You slowly twisted the doorknob open, opening it slightly so your body is visible but not the room.

"Hi, I'm mina!" She said in a bubbly tone. Her energy made you slightly overwhelmed. "I'm your neighbour, just next door." She pointed to the apartment beside yours.

You nodded, not knowing what to reply. "Have you finished unpacking?" You tilted your head in confusion. "Do you need help with boxes or anything?"

You looked back in your apartment, body moving aside just enough for Mina to have a clear view.

"Did you not bring any stuff?" You shook your head.

"I only brought a satchel," you gripped the strap that hung across your body. She gazes at the small bag attached to your body.

"Well, it looks like you need help settling in, why don't I cook dinner for you? You don't seem to have any pots or pans or food either." Your stomach grumbled at the mere mention of food.

Mina giggled, making you heat up in embarrassment. "I'll take that as a yes."

Since then Mina has been your source of food and company. She's been a great companion for the past few days. You told Wooyoung all about her and he just replied coldly. The thought of your best friend getting jealous of your new mortal friend made you laugh.

"So, I just started my 3rd year of college, and honestly, I am tired of it— I've been thinking of dropping out but then my mom might whoop my ass…" Mina rants while you sit there, zoned out watching the floor like it's the most interesting thing in the world.

"Earth to y/n," mina waves her hand in front of you, snapping you out of your daze.

"Oh sorry, What were you saying?" The girl pouts, eventually brushing it off to discuss other things.

"Oh right, so I met this guy on campus and he is like, really cute. He is super tall and like, maybe a bit built..." You listened to her attentively but still in the back of your mind you couldn't help but discuss your plans on how to find mingi to yourself.

"Should I ask him out?" You blinked— you weren't paying attention again.

"I'm sorry?"

"The guy I met on campus on my first day, should I ask for his number?"

"Oh totally, you should," you said plainly, you feel really bad for not paying attention but you couldn’t help it when your mind is being occupied with something else. Mina just brushed it off, not noticing your spaced-out expression. She continued rambling while your mind wandered.

Time was running out, you needed a plan.

"Remind me why I am on your college campus again?" You said, mina dragging you by the arm. She woke you up at an ungodly hour just to travel early to her college campus. Few students were walking around campus, on their way to their scheduled class.

"Look, I barely have friends, also do you go to college? You look to be around my age," your eyes widen. Atlantis doesn't have schools, you had to travel to Olympus just to make it to class, but you only had to go until you turned 18. And you are immortal, you haven't been to school for a hundred years.

"I graduated," you just said. Hoping she won't ask further questions.

"Oh so you're older than me then," you nodded. She stopped to sit by a tree in the campus garden, patting the grass beside you. You sat beside her, leaning on the tree.

"I don't have class 'till after lunch, we can grab something to eat before you can go back to your apartment," she took out her textbook and paper to finish what she didn't the day before.

"Sorry for dragging you, You are always locked up in your apartment so I thought why not take you here with me," you were planning on exploring more of the city, just to take note of the possible routes to get around.

"Won't I get in trouble? I don't go here."

"You are fine, besides, it's an open college, anyone can visit here," she explains as she gets back to her work.

Your eyes wandered off somewhere else, spotting the students who were early, sitting on the grass as they got some sleep under the trees. Some were reading books and some were having their breakfast.

It makes you sleepy after a while, deciding to lean your head against the tree, closing your eyes for a brief moment.

A pair of shoes tapping against the grass, crunching the leaves on the way. You didn't bother to open your eyes so you just stayed and listened. Must be one of mina's friends as you hear her voice ushering for them to sit.

They sat on the other side of the tree beside mina, talking about classes and homework but something about that voice tingles your brain. The familiar deep husky voice made your heart ache. You were confused as to why you were reacting that way.

Soon the person left and you were forced to open your eyes when mina shook your shoulder abruptly.

"Guess who just gave me their number," she said, grinning from ear to ear.

"Who?"

"The hot campus boy," she squealed, waving the paper in her hand. "His name is mingi and it's kinda cute and his voice was deep, not that deep, but like...deep."

Your eyes widen, "mingi?" She nodded. You felt like your world stopped spinning. Your mind is in shambles, processing the information. Your ears deafened the sounds around you, muffling mina's continuous babblings.

You thanked the gods that he's here, but then reality hit. He doesn't know you for he is only a reincarnation of the mingi you knew. He is no longer the son of Athena, he is just human.

"Are you sure it's the mingi?" Wooyoung's message appears from the clamshell. You lay on your bed, a book on your lap as you were reading just a while ago.

"Yes, Mina's description fits so perfectly," you bit your lip, anxiously fidgeting with your necklace. What if it wasn't him? You can't confirm that it really is him, he has no memory of his past life.

"Ok, so what are you gonna do now? You found him, what's the next step?" You mentally slapped yourself for being unprepared. You wanted to see him again, that was your main goal, and now that you know he's here, you have no reason to stay.

You want to be with him but it's impossible, you are immortal, he'll age while you stay young. Well, nothing much was changed when he was a demigod, but he had the opportunity to become immortal. It's not like there is some way a mortal can become immortal.

…..or is there.

"I'm coming back," the writing disappeared letter by letter as wooyoung's message appeared right after.

"Really? So that's it?"

You shook your head as if he could see you. "I have a plan"

"Oh no," wooyoung thought. Letting out a deep sigh. "She's gonna get into more trouble isn't she?" Wooyoung wished that somehow something would knock some sense into you.

"Y/n!"

"Mina, hey," she threw herself at you, engulfing you in a tight hug.

"I'm gonna miss you," she squeezed around your neck, restricting your airflow.

"Mina," you patted her back, making her apologize with a sheepish grin, "I'll be back soon though, you don't have to miss me too much."

"I know— wait, are you free right now? I was wondering if you wanna go eat before you leave," you thought for a second. Though it isn't difficult to travel back to Olympus, you're unfortunately on your last berry.

"Sure," you hoped it'll last you for another few hours.

Arriving at a restaurant with mina, ordering food as soon as you sat down. Your eyes wandered around. The restaurant was busy, waiters quickly passing around, trying to get to the customer's table as soon as possible.

"Finally," Mina says, standing up on her seat. You turned your head to the person she was referring to.

"Sorry I'm late, I got stuck in traffic."

"I invited mingi, I hope you don't mind y/n," Mina says with a sorry smile.

"I don't mind at all." That unsettling feeling soon washes over you, seeing mingi stand in front of you, face to face. You find it weird to see him like this like he didn't die. He looks like the same mingi years ago, it just felt….different.

You took your seats again, Mina helping mingi order his food. The three of you waited for your orders, chatting about anything that comes to mind. Mina talking about classes and homework that is due and mingi asking if any of you were free to a party this weekend.

Of course, you can't go.

"So, Where are you from y/n?" He asks you. His voice sounded so natural to you but at the same time, it felt foreign, like you just heard of it now. Technically you did but, the way demigod reincarnations work is they get reborn the same. Meaning they'll look the same, speak the same, and their personalities are most likely the same. Nothing will change once they get reborn— except, they won't remember anything from their past life.

"Atlantis," you blurted out, panic rushing through you. You can see the confusion in their faces.

"Like, the lost city of Atlantis?" Mortals, what are they teaching them?

"I mean Atlanta," you corrected yourself, body stiff as stone.

"America? That's far, do you have a flight?" Mina intervened. You didn't even know where that was, you just so happened to remember that book you read before coming here and the main character lived in a place called Atlanta.

"Uh yeah, sure," you felt cold sweat trickling down the back of your neck. You just hope they won't ask any more questions.

You let out a sigh of relief as the two of them get back to chatting with each other.

Finally, the food arrived and the sooner you finished the sooner you got to go home. And with your last berry, you popped it in your mouth after the meal.

Leaving the restaurant with mina and mingi you were finally able to go back to Olympus.

As you are ready to part ways, Mina engulfs you in a tight hug, cutting off your airflow. "Mina, you're squishing me," you said in a choked out voice. "Be quick ok," she gives you a final hug before walking in the other direction.

You waited until the coast was clear and hid somewhere secluded.

You arrived safely and with just a minute to spare. You were gonna go to wooyoung's place first before going back to Atlantis when you saw a lightning strike. A gust of moist air blows your way, a growling thunder piercing through your ears. Your mind immediately assumed that it was Zeus but when the clouds cleared you saw your father, sitting on a cloud with his trident on his lap.

"Father," you said, greeting him with a bow. Though he didn't look pleased with seeing you at the gates of Olympus, he still gave your hair a ruffle.

"You have me worried sick y/n, where were you?"

You expected yelling, hearing these words and this kind of tone shocked you. Especially even after telling him that you were staying at wooyoung's but still found you at the gates

"Look, I know I may have gone too far— with...you know, the marriage," he admits. Avoiding eye contact with you as much as possible. Not that it wasn't sincere, he just wasn't used to admitting he was wrong. But he loves you dearly and he'd do anything for you.

"It's ok, I actually forgot those happened." there was an awkward silence. Then, Poseidon left, after informing you of what time dinner was gonna be.

You finally arrived at your best friend's house and instead of a worried wooyoung, you were met with a furious wooyoung.

"I knew this was a bad idea, your father almost killed me!" He said. You rolled your eyes at the exaggeration.

"Relax wooyoung, nothing happened," you placed your bag onto his bed, taking out the souvenirs you got.

"Did he say anything to you? You are still alive so I'm guessing you haven't met yet?"

"I met him at the gates and he said he was worried." Thinking back to that moment made you shiver, it's like someone replaced your dad with someone completely different.

"Huh, well ok then— Ooh what are these," he was quick to change the topic as his curiosity fills in. Wooyoung takes the bag of candies you brought, ripping it open to take one of the wrappers with the sugary treats inside. You chuckled, watching wooyoung chew on the candy.

He notices your gaze stuck on the floor while you get lost in your own thoughts.

"Hey, did something else happen there?"

You snap back into reality, taking a while to process what wooyoung just said. You shook your head in response.

"Actually, is there a way to stay there without the berries?"

He stares at you for a moment, he honestly thought you were done and you weren't going back there. It's dangerous for you since you are not as strong as your father. Even with something more efficient than a magical fruit, you are bound to get in trouble.

"My mom has a necklace," wooyoung says, he didn't want to say it but he knew how important this is to you. Eventually you'll stop, knowing mortals and gods cannot stay together forever.

"She used to make me wear it when she let me go to the mortal world with her."

"Can I borrow it?"

"Y/n!" Mina ran to you with open arms, "I missed you so much," you giggled at your friend.

"I've only been gone for a week."

"A week too long," she pouted.

She takes your hand in hers, pulling you to whatever direction. You arrived at the airport, making it look like you got here by plane. Passing security check out and exiting the building.

"You still remember mingi right?" She asks.

"Of course, I left for a week, it doesn't mean I forgot anything that's here," she grinned.

"Why, what happened?" You asked, hiding the hint of fear in your voice.

"Oh nothing," she sing-song, trying to stop her lips from smiling too much.

You both stopped at the front of the main entrance, waiting for you-don't-know-who. Until a car stops in front of you. Mingi came to pick you two up, giving you a ride to your apartment.

"So, what's it like in your hometown," she asks, taking a bite of her food.

"Uh, It's….you know —uh…. there's trees and buildings."

Mina nodded slowly as she continued eating her food.

After you two finished eating, Mina left to finish her college work— probably with mingi.

You didn't want to think the worst but considering mina's behavior around mingi, you couldn't stop the thoughts running around your mind.

You gripped the pendant that was tied around your neck. It's pearly white color glowing due to the light reflecting on it. Its sharp edges indicate that it was shattered into parts.

The other half is with mingi.

Atleast, when he was still with you. It symbolizes your promise to always be together and be there for each other.

But fate just wasn't on your side. And it still isn't.

As you walked out of your apartment to get some fresh air, you spotted the two by the parking lot. Their faces are inches away from each other.

You didn't know why but you felt your heart sink. Tears welling in your eyes. You reminded yourself that this mingi isn't the same mingi that promised to be with you. He wasn't the same mingi that helped you run away from home whenever your parents were arguing again.

That gave you a reality check, you can't be with him anymore. You have to let him go.

Your gaze still stuck on the two, not noticing the sudden appearance of another spirit.

This time, it made you feel chills.

"Keeho," you said in a whisper. You didn't bother to look in his direction.

"Oh, I'm glad you recognize me," he said, a mischievous smile growing on his lips.

"Ryujin would have loved to see this, after all, this was her plan." You curled your fist into a ball, tight enough until your nails dug into your skin.

"Why?" You managed to let out. You didn't want this to affect you but it does. After everything you did, it all didn't matter in the end.

"I don't know, ask ryujin. I'm just here to relay a message."

Keeho pushed himself off the wall that he was leaning on and came over to you.

"Don't try to bring back something that was meant to be taken away, it'll come back to bite you in the ass," he whispered against your ear, sending chills down your spine.

Then he left, disappearing into the mist again.

Even though you just came back, you were already itching to leave. Packing your bag and locking the apartment. Giving the keys to the landlord.

Mina notices you in a hurry to leave, running after you to catch you.

"Y/n! Where are you going?" She grabs your wrist making you stop. You didn't turn around, you stayed rooted to the ground. Swallowing the thick lump in your throat before speaking.

"I'm sorry Mina," you pulled your wrist away from her and left. You felt guilty, she was your only friend and she felt betrayed. You left without an explanation.

"Y/n? You're here, did something happen?" Wooyoung read your expression.

You shook your head, clearing your thoughts as you replaced the sad look with a small smile.

"I'm great, I just didn't like the whole vibe there," you lied.

You removed the ruby crystal around your neck giving it to wooyoung, muttering a thanks. Alongside you removed the pendant that was tucked under your shirt. Wooyoung was shocked as you never took it off and you swore you never would.

You tucked the necklace into your pocket, taking a mental note to put it away when you get home.

Although you didn't accomplish your original mission, you did realize that it's always good to let go of something. Never let anything or anyone tie you down. You are still heartbroken, but you are sure you could get over it soon.

Of course, the siblings that stared at you through the window, mischievous smiles on their faces, will not let you live just yet.

#8makes1teamnet #ficscafe #destinyversenet #fkp-net #knet-bakery #: ̗̀🌺; collab fic entry #❪ 🐿️ ❫ ─ oneshots #ateez #ateez mingi #song mingi #ateez angst #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #mingi scenarios #mingi imagines

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tempestrio · 3 years

Text

Dōtaku Island Staff OC!

——

As the person who pretty much kickstarted the Dōtaku Staff OC trend, it was pretty much my job to make my own staff oc. In light of that, here’s Kass! As always the art and Kass belong to me, while Dōtaku Island and Prof. Peach both belong to @prof-peach! (Go check out their blog it’s amazing!) More info under the cut!

——

Name: Kasper Rhinehardt (Goes by Kass)

Age: 24 yo

Gender: Non-Binary (They/He pronouns)

Height: 5’ 3”

Job: Groomer (Specializes in reptilian pokemon as well as most fire and bug-types)

Hometown: Motostoke City, Galar

General Info: Kass is a former gym trainer for the Fire-type leader Kabu, and now works on Dōtaku Island as a pokemon groomer and a staff member. Due to their experience under Kabu, they have the patience, willpower, and persistence to deal with pokemon of almost all temperaments. In their downtime they love cooking, foraging, and spending quality time with their team. Pretty much almost all of the treats that Kass gives his clients are homemade and his team are more than willing to taste test his creations. They also help teach the Fungi Foraging 101 and Foraging for Beginners workshops due to it being a hobby of theirs. Fun Fact: Kass is so lightweight that he’s been easily benched by Peach multiple times as a testament to how physically stronk she is. (They also turn red like a tomato berry at any mention of those occurrences.)

Team:

- Howl the Obstagoon: Looks like they could kill you, is a cinnamon roll; Met on Route 3 of Galar; Is a huge crackhead™ most of the time, but otherwise is a very sweet boy; If you ever hear a scream when you’re picking up/dropping off your pokemon from/for grooming, that’s usually Kass getting soaked by Howl shaking after he just got a bath because he won’t sIT STILL!

- Kaen the Centiskorch: Looks like a cinnamon roll, is a cinnamon roll; Given to Kass by Kabu, and is Kass’ starter; An absolute perfect pokemon in all sense of the word; Loves to give people warm hugs and is incredibly good with little kids; His best quality is his wiggles™; Often seen either taking care and occupying smaller pokemon while others are being groomed or helping Kass with their cooking.

- Espada the Grovyle, Gargoyle Variant: Looks like a cinnamon roll, could actually kill you; Met in the forests of Dōtaku Island; The most recent addition to Kass’ team and is the most surprising member; Used to be distant and a tad violent, but due to Kass’ persistence he’s now an attention hog and loves getting scritches; Often assists Kass with grooming and is surprisingly good at helping cut and de-shed stubborn fur; He and Kaen are also Kass’ go-to when helping Peach calm down a rowdy pokemon and during the Battle contest.

- Canyon the Silicobra, Eastern Hognose Variant: Looks like they could kill you, would actually kill you; Met on Route 6 of Galar; You’d think that all of Kass’ pokemon are all of these well-behaved angels, but then there’s this petty brat; He will bite and gnaw when he doesn’t get his way, which is often (Kass is so used to it that it doesn’t work on them); His sand glands are underdeveloped, so he pretty much relies on his biting moves more than his ground-type moves; He is so dramatic that he usually throws a tantrum once a day, much to Kass and the other staff member’s amusement.

#prof. peach #pokemon #dotaku island

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sunflowersteves · 3 years

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bloody & bruised || a night for galas

mob!bucky barnes x boxer!reader

𝒄𝒉. 𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 : Bucky had finally asked you to attend an event regarding his mob life, but nothing is as joyous as everything seems.

author’s note : it’s been while since i posted for this series and i suddenly had some inspiration. i hope you all enjoy. **not my photo

warnings : fluff, kidnapping, rich snobs, smut!!, public sex, teasing, afab!fic, [18+ only], minors do not interact

previous ch. // series m.list // m.list

Bucky Barnes was not a man to be trifled with.

Bucky Barnes was a hard-headed upright murderer that held an entire underground criminal system. The NYPD and the FBI had been trying to capture him for years on end, investigation after investigation to always end up falling short.

He was dangerous, cynical, and deadly.

He was a man that would send people running in the opposite direction of him. He was a man that controlled the depths of the city with fear; no one dared to trifle with him.

But, James Buchanan Barnes was also a man in love. He was totally and utterly smitten. He would give you tender kisses in the morning and trace patterns on your back as you slept. Steve liked to tease the hell out of him for being able to snatch someone as astonishing as you. He didn’t want to admit it, but Steve was right.

You had come into his life so fast, and the sweet breath of fresh air you were had surprised him. You were stubborn and took no shit from anyone—even the mobster himself. You were kind and soft. Your laughter was the purest sound he had ever heard. But you were also tough; your fists bloodied and bruised more times than he could count.

Before you came along, Bucky placed himself deep within his work. He never really had time for anything, so he normally only had one-night stands. The transaction of a quick fuck and then leaving was the best option. There were no strings attached, no grievances, no troubles, just a quick exchange.

But you, you were so much more. You were absolutely everything. You were the summer breeze that floated through his hair. You were fresh berries that tasted pungent yet sweet as they burst in his mouth.

You were it for him. His partner that would rest by his side no matter what, if that’s what you wanted anyway. And a part of him hated it. He wanted to push you away, so you would not be exposed to the dangerous life that he lived. But you were worth it. You were worth the risk, always.

And you had been absolutely stunned by the man. You were an unstoppable force that had your opponents beaten down so easily. You were strong-willed and passionate about the world around you.

So, to find yourself slowly falling for a man who has most likely done unspeakable things came as a surprise. But, he wasn’t the scary person that everyone deemed him to be, at least not to you. He was sweet, charming, and amazing in bed—too amazing in bed.

What you found interesting, though, is that ever since that night after your match, Bucky hadn’t left your side. For eight months, he’s been high alert. As though at any minute or any second, something would jump out at the two of you. He was always looking back when you’re walking around at night. He would always insist on two bodyguards at your side constantly, even when you were in the boxing ring.

He knew you were capable. He always tried to reassure you. However, you knew that something was suspicious. He never told you what had tormented him so badly, but he would always refuse when you would ask him what was wrong.

You had always thought he was just embarrassed by you. You were a girl from the Bronx who knew how to fight, and it always had been an antithesis in your relationships. However, Bucky had always shut your insecurities down and made it up to you in the best way possible.

You let out a small yawn, “what time is it?”

He smiles slightly at your gruff morning voice before turning to look at the clock. “It’s almost noon.”

You just hummed and snuggled into his chest even further. He traced small circular patterns up and down your spine, his mind drifting off to think about work. He didn’t want to leave your warm embrace, his heart dreading the idea of leaving the silky sheets and your cold feet resting on his calves.

“Doll?”

Your eyes flicker up to his before reaching up to give him a sweet yet somber kiss. His arms tightened around you for just a second before a finger rested on your cheek, wiping gently from side to side.

“Yes?” You mumbled against his lips.

“Will you accompany me to the gala tonight?”

Your eyes shot up at his question, completely catching you off guard. During your relationship, he never asked you to attend anything that regarded work. He had always said it was too dangerous, even for an infamous boxer. He always said that he just wanted to keep you safe, but still, you knew there was something else at play.

Your eyes lit up in excitement, “really?”

He nodded, lips curling up into a smile. “Yes, really.” You giggled against his skin and relished in the warmth of it all. “Nothing would make me happier.”

“But Steve and Sam will be there the whole time and—” You groaned, interrupting his sentence as he just gave you a knowing look. You shift your arm and rest it on his cheek, his eye fluttering closed and leaning into your touch.

“What’s going on, baby?”

He let out a large sigh and opened his eyes to lock with yours. He knew he couldn’t lie to you, not anymore. You looked at him with puffy cheeks and fluttering eyelashes, knowing that he was done for.

“Remember that night I took you to my place, and we danced to jazz?” You grin up at him at the memory, your mind becoming fuzzy with adoration from that very long night. “I remember that night very well, love.”

Your smile flattened slightly as you caught the look on his face. His eyebrows furrowed, and his eyes clouded with something you couldn’t quite figure out. Worry? Fear? “I got texts that night threatening you.”

Your eyes widened at the profession he gave, not expecting it in the slightest. “From who?” He shakes his head. He shifts in the bed slightly, moving his face, so it practically ghosts yours.

“I don’t know. That’s why I’ve had guards around you this whole time. I’m sorry.”

Your lips curl into a smile, giving him a small peck to tell him you accept his apology. “They’ll have to get through my fists first.”

He chuckled. “Damn right, doll.”

You walked in with Bucky’s arms locked with yours, the stoic nature of the man you were with proceeded to lock onto his face. As you entered the crowd, they had immediately disappeared. They were almost afraid to touch you in fear of Bucky. A little proud smirk rested on your face at the thought of being untouchable. It felt enlightening—it felt addicting.

The room was crowded with what looked like some of the most elite people you had seen in New York. The ballroom was large; white and gold splashed against the towering columns and swirled together. The chandeliers gleamed the brightest and sparkled throughout the room, creating little stars across the ground. Famous paintings were scattered across the walls, pairing nicely with the poised elegant furniture.

They wore lavish suits and dresses; your attire and Bucky's were matched perfectly. While in the car, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He had you pressed up the limo door and devoured your neck, nipping and biting at the sensitive flesh. You just giggled and tried to shove him off of you, you took way too long to get ready, and he wasn’t going to ruin your hair. “Sorry, doll. Jus’ can’t help myself.” And that cocky grin made you want to kiss him even more.

You took a champagne glass off of a tray and took a sip. Bucky was currently talking to one of his donors, and you were beyond bored. All it was, was a bunch of rich snobs gathered in one room. You knew Bucky hated it as well; he knew how they really thought of him. They always thought that he and his men were just a bunch of criminals that took over the city. But they never mentioned how much he helped people too.

“So, dear, what do you think? Why should we give to the homeless when it’s their fault they’re there in the first place?”

Your hand immediately tightened around Bucky’s arm. You look over at the old man and the urge to plummet him into the next century was suddenly very tempting. You then purse your lips, your voice loud and boisterous. “People need help, whether it’s their fault or not. If you think otherwise, then you’re a piece of shit person. Simple as that.” The old man and his wife gasped. “Plus, most of the time, it isn’t their fault.”

“Tame your woman, Mr. Barnes.”

Your eyes flicker over towards Bucky to find his eyes already locked onto you. His eyes were full of lust, and his once sparkling eyes were dark and swirling as though an ocean would. He smirks quickly, “Couldn’t even if I tried.” Swirling butterflies burst against your chest; he looked proud. He looked like he could devour you right then and there, but the pride radiated off of him.

Before you know it, you find yourself backed up against a wall that’s far away from the crowd, and no one would bother you. Sam had shaken his head when he finally found the two of you, and Steve just sighed before saying he needed a drink.

Bucky’s lips found yours in a heated dance, his mouth swallowing each and every sound you make. His hands gripped your hips tightly. The gruff sounds leaving his throat were heavenly to your ears. “I need you, Bucky. Please,” he didn’t waste a single moment as he shoved your dress up to your hips.

He let out a string of curses as he noticed you weren’t wearing any underwear. “Fuckin’ killing me, doll.” His lips meet yours again, his hand reaching down to feel your slick between his fingers. You were absolutely drenched, and he moaned, the sound vibrating against your lips.

“Barely even touched you, and you’re already this wet? Fuck, baby girl.” You reach down to feel his hard cock in the confined restraints of his pants suit. He was big. Your hand then rubbed the outline of his member, and you felt him twitch in your hand.

“God, your cock is so big, Buck.” He pants, eyes closing at the sensation of your fingers dipping into his trousers. “I wanna put my mouth on it, swirl my tongue ‘round those good spots.”

His hands jerked forward and pinned you against the wall, lifting you up becoming flushed against him. “Think you can tease me, hmm? Hasn’t anyone told you not to mess with the big, bad mobster?” You open your mouth to respond but are quickly cut off by him pounding into you. His muscular arm still hung above you, keeping you in just the right place. You were warm and soft; Bucky couldn't get enough. The two of you groaned with each thrust as he filled you fuller than ever.

“So tight,” he mutters into your ear. You bite your lip to keep you from screaming, his cock twisting and pulling every heavenly sensation. “You’re mine, yeah? You’re fucking mine.” The way he growled, the feral sound leaving his lips was intoxicating.

“Say it. Say you’re mine.” His tone was firm and feral. Your mind could barely process what he was saying. His other hand grabs your jaw to make you look at him, “I’m yours! I’ll always be yours.”

He pounded even harder into you, the smacking sounds of your body meeting his hips were loud. Your hands clutch his shoulders, your lips repeating his name over and over. “Fuck, Bucky!” He coaxed that spongy spot over and over, his eyes trailing down to watch his cock disappear into your lips. Your walls clench around him. “That’s it, doll. Take my cock.”

His words alone make you tip over the edge, your body seizing before releasing all of its pleasure. You don’t even care at this point, your screams escaping your mouth as he continues to pound into you. He goes to pull out of you to come, but you stop him. “No. Come in me, please. Wanna feel you for days.”

The way you sound, so desperate and pleading for him to come, to fill you full. He groans a low sound, his teeth coming down to bite your shoulder. He empties inside you there, coaxing your sweet walls with him. A small content sigh leaves you as you feel some of his cum drip out of your lips.

You both clean up as best as you can. You were trying to fix your hair while Bucky was trying to get the pre-cum out of his pants. You looked almost as good as new besides the post-sex glow radiating off of the two of you.

He kisses you, this one sweet and savory like you would vanish if he hadn’t put his lips on yours. You grin, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him in a bit more.

“C’mon. Let’s go back and greet more assh—” Darkness surrounded the whole ballroom as shrieks filled the air. His head whipped around as he tried to make his way through the crowd. “What’s going on?” Bucky shook his head at you, even though you couldn’t see a single thing. He didn’t know what was going on, but he didn’t like it.

“Baby, follow me, okay?” He’s holding your hand as he finally finds Sam and Steve. Steve had told them that the whole grid is out, affecting most of Brooklyn. But something didn’t feel right.

“Something feels off.” Sam agreed, prompting a suggestion to try and fix the power. Something rippled throughout his body and left a pang right in his chest.

“What’s going on?!” Steve tries to calm Bucky down. They knew something wasn’t right, something felt suspicious. They didn’t know what or how, but it was. Bucky could practically feel it in the air.

With a sigh of relief, the lights flickered back on. The sweet, soft music started playing again and everyone started to mingle. Bucky felt his shoulders relax as he turned towards you. But then he halted. You weren’t next to him. But you were just there, weren’t you? He had just been tugging you on the arm. He knew you were right there.

“Doll?” He whipped around, Steve and Sam trying to find you as well. They walked through the whole crowd yelling to make some room. Bucky checks everywhere; the supply closets, the kitchen, and the entire crowd. You were nowhere to be found. You were just… gone.

Bloody and Bruised: @xoasalxo @raven-rust @widowbite-legit @purselover2 @met4no1a @t3a-bag @stuckysavedmylive @gudenuph

Permanent: @captainchrisstan @angstysebfan @teenagereadersciencenerd @rebekahdawkins @hailmary-yramliah @stardust-galaxies @wiccanmetallicrose @keithseabrook27 @hereforthesunrise @lxdyred @ironbabey

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alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer · 3 years

Text

all gone, all gone, all gone

part 4: well, no, i don't feel lighter

my crackfic is back, y'all!! and here to break my 3rd-chapter curse, in which every fic i've ever written ever, i've given up after exactly the 3rd chapter. hopefully the amnesia fic and the 5+1 can follow suit. i wanted to post something for thomastair week/alastair appreciation day, and this doesn't fully fit but i have too many WIPs and this was the closest thing. I've written most of part 5, which has some great thomastair action, so maybe i'll try to post that tonight as well

content warnings: suicide attempt, magical manipulation, implications of domestic violence

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Masterlist | AO3

They will never help you. Not even your sister takes your side, not in many months, years even. Do you think they would take you back now, like this? They preferred you floating dead in the Thames than fighting beside them even before I got my hands on you. They would use you and discard you in seconds. You are nothing to them, you never had been. Do you think your own mother would take you back knowing what you’ve done?

Alastair was clean again, free again. Those were the first words Belial had said to him after giving him a second chance. They repeated in his head now, deep in battle with the people he’d betrayed, the people who would betray him without hesitation. The people he should hold no loyalty towards.

But something else played in his head as well: a memory. He was 11, maybe 12, his sister slightly younger. They were playing hide and seek in the forest beyond Cirenworth. Alastair knew it was because his father was drunk and angry, and his mother had told him to get his sister out of the house. He was worried that she would get hurt attempting to calm him down, but Cordelia wasn’t. She was happy, she was laughing. She had no idea that anything could be wrong. She was elated for her brother to be playing with her. She wanted to run around and pick berries and eat them next to the lake a mile from their house.

He held tightly to the memory, as if it were a street he was sprinting down and if he made a single turn, he would never be able to find it again. It was the last thing he thought of before Belial returned to him, and it was a message he easily understood: this was the reason he was loyal to her, even when she betrayed him.

He had been so focused on his anger, his death wish, all of his own pain and heartbreak that he’d lost sight of what had sustained him all of his years: his sister. He survived on the knowledge that whatever happened to him, whatever abysmal fate was before him, his sister could have better. She deserved better. He could give it to her in whatever way possible.

He’d become distracted in his own pain, and Belial had preyed on that. Now, Alastair understood. It didn’t matter if Belial killed him or if he was sent away to the Basilias to waste away for the rest of his days or if he was stripped of his marks and never allowed to see his family again as long as Cordelia walked away in one piece.

Belial twirled Cortana in the air. “Good thing we have another Carstairs to wield it. Take care of her.” The blade flew into Alastair’s grasp. Cordelia winced and Lucie shrieked, charging towards Belial. They locked each other in a battle of magicks, but she wouldn’t last long, not against a Prince of Hell.

Alastair thought back to that memory, to the sound of her shrieks of laughter, of the flashes of deep, dark red hair between the trees as he chased her. He would rather die a thousand agonizing deaths than hurt her again. His mind told him that it was illogical, but he knew that it was correct. “You always wanted to be a hero, isn’t that what you said?” She looked hurt and confused, but more than anything, terrified. She needed to understand. There was only so much he could do; she needed to believe. “Do you believe you are a merciful hero?”

Realization flickered in her eyes of that memory from many years ago. “I try to be.”

Alastair couldn’t throw a sword and expect it to land safely in Cordelia’s grasp and without any demonic interception, nor did he wish to be within slashing distance of his sister with Belial in his head. Instead, he threw the sword upward.

Cordelia held out her hand and the blade flew into it, just as it had back in Devon. It fit firmly into Cordelia’s grasp just as Lucie collapsed.

“What-” Belial began. Alastair felt himself lifted into the air by an invisible hand around his neck. “-did you do?” Before he could answer, Cordelia started to move forward. The grip around his throat tightened and he couldn’t stop the strangled sound that followed. “Move another inch and I’ll snap his pretty little neck,” he warned. Cordelia froze.

“You should- have killed me-” Alastair choked out. “After Thomas.”

“You tricked me.”

“You wanted me- to give up. Should have known- I’m a talented- actor.” He could feel himself getting lightheaded attempting to speak, sacrificing the little air that he was still able to breathe.

“You think you’re so brilliant-”

“No. You’re- a fool. You- miscalculated.” He heard a shout down the corridor. If Cordelia was still holding Cortana when James arrived, there would be no way for Belial to win. Now was his only chance.

He heard a shriek as he flew through the air, colliding with a brick wall in a sickening crunch. The next thing he knew, he was on the ground. He opened his eyes just in time to watch Belial disintegrate at Cortana’s blade.

The world was blurry, and everything hurt. His body, but also - him. He was free. He was dying, but he was free.

Each breath hurt more and more, and he could taste blood in his mouth. He had at least several broken bones and a concussion, in addition to broken ribs and any internal injuries. He attempted to sit up but the bit of effort made his vision go black. Perhaps more than a concussion.

Suddenly, his sister's face was above him. "Stay with me," she begged. "Please, I need you. Please, hold on. Everything will be okay. We'll get you to the Institute and they will heal you and then we will figure out the rest. Please, I need you. I'm so sorry. I love you. I can't do this without you. Please, hold on, for me."

She should not be apologizing, he thought. I was the one who left her.

He tried. He tried to hold on. He had brief memories of the carriage riding, slipping in and out of consciousness.

Stay with me, she repeated.

I will, he tried to tell her, but no words came.

Then, he saw nothingness. The emptiness with which he was so familiar.

Then, he woke. He was in the infirmary. His whole body ached. He felt his stomach lurch as he remembered all that had happened the past two weeks.

Cordelia was sitting in a daze, not fully asleep, but not fully awake.

"I suppose this whole ordeal means that I am either very hard to kill or very bad at dying," he said weakly, startling her out of her stupor.

She glared at him. "Don't joke about such things! I would smack you were you not injured. I still might yet." She hurried to him and embraced him tightly. His body ached at her pull but he did not comment.

"How long has it been?"

"Three days since the fight."

"Is Lucie okay?"

She nodded. "It took her a bit to recover, but she's alright. There were other injuries, but somehow we all made it out in one piece."

"I'm so sorry, Cordelia," he said quietly.

"Shh, don't start that. It's alright. I just-" Her breath hitched for a moment. "I wish I had been able to see how much pain you were in. I wish I could have helped."

He shook his head. "No, I wouldn't have accepted it." He reached to cup her face in his hand but realized that his wrists were bound to restraints. Of course. He'd worked for Belial. He'd carried out unspeakable deeds for him. He'd kidnapped Thomas, even if he had freed him as well.

"They- they said they had to, that until you woke and they could assess the situation it would be necessary. I-"

"It's okay," he told her. "I understand."

"What are you going to tell them? About how... about what happened with Belial?"

He exhaled. "The truth. I will simply tell them the truth."

* * *

The Consul was apprehensive about allowing Alastair to take the Mortal Sword so soon after waking from his injuries, but he insisted that he would not speak without it. He only wanted to do this once. She reluctantly agreed, bringing the sword to the infirmary, along with the Inquisitor, the head of the Institute, and Sophie Lightwood as witness. He was unsure of how she’d gotten involved, but her presence somehow terrified him and soothed him at the same time. Cordelia was allowed to stay as well, as long as she did not interfere with the questioning.

The Mortal Sword burned through his body, aggravating his many wounds, but he’d felt worse. He answered their questions, explaining how Belial had held him over the Thames, threatening to drop him into the river as he brokered a deal with him. He conveniently left out the part that preceded. He attempted to describe what it was like to be under Belial’s spell, under his curse. He told them that he never wanted to hurt anyone. It was the truth, even under Belial’s influence.

“Thank you, Alastair. We’re almost finished,” Will told him. Alastair was unsure why he was asking the questions, he was sure that was meant to be the task of the Inquisitor, but whatever Will had done to earn the privilege, it seemed like he regretted it now. He was simply too empathetic. “Please allow me to clarify a few details. Belial, using Jesse Blackthorn’s body, pushed you off of Tower Bridge?”

Alastair grimaced, his answer burning in the back of his throat. He had hoped they would overlook this part. “No.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was already over the edge of the bridge.”

“I don’t understand.”

Alastair looked over to Cordelia who seemed ready to jump in on his behalf, though they both knew she was not allowed. “I- I jumped,” he confessed, relief washing over him, though he did not know if it was because of the sword. “I attempted to kill myself, but Belial stopped me.”

The Consul and Will Herondale looked at him in shock. Sophie Lightwood appeared guilty, but he had no idea what for. The Inquisitor was indifferent.

Will attempted to speak, the pain breaking through his eyes, but could not. The Consul stepped in instead. “I see. Is there any other information relevant to this ordeal?”

He was about to respond when Sophie spoke up. “What did Belial tell you about Barbara?” Ah, he realized. That was why she was here. That was why she was guilty.

“Sophie!” the Consul scolded.

“Mrs. Lightwood, that is entirely-” The Inquisitor began, but it was not a question Alastair was opposed to answering.

“Nothing,” he told her. “But I overheard him speaking to Tatiana. He called Barbara’s death his gift to her.”

Sophie’s solemn expression did not hold the surprise of the Consul’s or Will’s. Alastair was merely confirming what she already knew.

The Consul nudged Will forward to take the sword back from Alastair. “I believe we’re finished here. We will discuss the matter and return to you shortly.”

There was an uncomfortable silence as Will put away the Mortal Sword and they left the room, Sophie casting an apologetic glance back at him. The silence stayed between him and Cordelia as they waited. He believed before that if he could skirt around the truth, there was a chance he would walk free, even if he did not deserve it. Now, knowing that they knew the full truth, his stomach twisted at the thought of their decision.

Cordelia looked pale, and he knew she was thinking something similar. “I’m going to go get some water,” she said finally. It wasn’t even a convincing lie.

“Cordelia, what are you doing?”

She didn’t answer as she left the infirmary.

if any of this seems unrealistic, i don't care! i made this mess and i can deus ex machina it if i want to!!!

taglist (ask to be +/-, this is a different taglist than most of my content because of the triggers): @jem-nasium @littlx-songbxrd @fortheloveofthecarstairs @cant-think-of-anything @shadowrunner2000 @writeforjordelia @jurdan-my-beloved

Part 5

#cw suicide #alastair carstairs #thomastair week #tlh #the last hours #cordelia carstairs #all gone fic #fanfic #fanfiction

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giorno-plays-piano · 4 years

Text

Treasure hunt

Pairing: dragon!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, kidnapping, death of minor characters, minor depiction of violence.

Words: 2133.

Summary: No knight would dare to save a sacrificial bride of the dragon.

______________

When he lowered your body into a little pond, a cloud of blood dissolved into the water. You whined, looking at your wounded legs. They stopped bleeding when you were in the air riding on the flying dragon's back, but it still hurt too much for you to walk across the cave on your own. You felt the man leaving a gentle kiss on the top of your head while you sobbed.

"You will be alright, my darling." He cooed in your ear in a soft voice and let the water cover half of your body, soaking your long white nightgown smeared with blood.

You shivered but stayed where you were. You were thinking of his eyes dark as the twilight sky when he came closer to you, tied to a stake and barely conscious after all the beating you took. You tried to run on the day of sacrifice, and the villagers didn't take it kindly. They tried to cover your wounds as much as they could, but the dragon only had to lift the hem of your nightgown to see the ugly shackles marks on your skin. He took away the cranberry beads from your neck and saw your chest, all black and blue, smeared with the red juice. Did they think these smashed berries could cover the bloody marks?

When the dragon in a form of a man lifted his head, you felt an unbearable heat rising in his fiery mouth.

"Fear not, my lady, it's all being dealt with."

Although you thought your bones could break if he touched you, he cleaned the cuts and bruises so carefully you barely felt anything at all. Was it his magic? Was the water in this pond charmed? You didn't want to know.

The man wiped your face tenderly and took off your earrings colored in red, scoffing at the piece of metal in his large palm. Apparently, they didn't suit his taste - you saw little, but one glance at the treasures he kept hidden in his cave was enough to see the dragon had more precious metals and gems than the King himself. You expected dozens of servants and concubines to meet their rightful owner, too, but there was not a soul around you two. Did they hide? You hoped so. Otherwise it meant the rumors were true - the dragon simply ate all those sacrificial brides given to him. Even if he cared so genuinely about your wounds, maybe it was because he didn't like to see your bruised skin.

"Ah!" You squeezed your eyes shut. The man above you was covering your cuts with an odd ointment, its smell fresh and somewhat icy.

"We are almost done." He assured you and left an airy kiss on your knee. "You are so young, my love. You will heal fast."

You timidly bowed your head at his remark. How old was the dragon? It was too bold of you to ask him that, of course, so you simply kept your mouth shut.

"I am a century older than you." The golden-haired man said to your suprise, and your eyes widened at his words. "And no, I can't look inside your mind, my lady, but I am able to read your face. Please, do not be afraid."

You nodded, too frightened to speak. You remembered villagers running away in agonizing pain, screaming and pleading and cursing; the smell of the burning flesh and wood; the mighty flame devouring everything on its way. Those people had never been kind to you from the moment they seized you a month ago, but you still did not wish to see them dying such a horrible death.

"Do you feel better?"

It took you a few moments to respond, and you shivered.

"Yes, Your... Your Highness."

You did not know how to adress someone as mighty as him, and the dragon laughed at your words, making you feel even more humiliated.

"You do not have to call me that, my love. I am Steve, Sarah's son." The dragon smiled at you and kissed your knuckles with his soft lips. You were confused and ashamed. This moment felt too intimate. "I mean no harm to you. Whatever people have said to you before, I did not bring you here to kill."

You stared at him in disbelief. What? Did his words mean the dragon did not want to eat you? Maybe you were supposed to become one of the concubines, then. In the end, if there were many of them hiding somewhere deep in the cave, it could be true. You had never wished to serve any man like that, yet it was still better than to be eaten alive.

"Steve, Sarah's son." You mumbled quietly, looking at your drenched nightgown with a sense of deep shame - the white fabric became completely see-through, and you tried to cover yourself with your hands. "T-thank you for..."

It was hard to speak as you trembled in his strong muscular arms, and the man smiled at you, caressing your head as if you were a child. Before you could finish your thought, he lifted you up in the air, caring little about your soaked clothes that got him wet right away. You shut your eyes again, afraid to see where he was taking you and trying to concentrate on your pain instead. Surprisingly, it wasn't as bad as before - the ointment Steve used was magical, indeed.

Once you realized both of your were up in the air, you held on to him for dear life. You still couldn't understand how the dragon was able to transform only a part of him - his hands caressing you were still pretty much human.

You didn't utter a single word before you landed on something soft and fluffy, your nightgown oddly dry on your skin. As you finally opened your eyes, you saw Steve's large figure hovering over you and whimpered, balling up on a huge bed high above the ground.

"It pains me to see you like this, sweetheart." The dragon's voice was unexpectedly tender. "But I know how terribly those filthy brutes treated you. You are afraid I will do the same..." He became quiet for a few moments, and you gulped, suddenly feeling guilty. "Please know I am here to protect you, my love, from any danger from within. No one will ever hurt you again. You're safe here."

Your eyes glimmed with tears at his kind words, and you sobbed, covering your face with a fluffy blanket you found on the bed. He wasn't going to hurt you, he said. He took care of your wounds and brought you somewhere nice, giving you a chance to rest after all the horrors you went through. You didn't know whether he was just toying with you, but for now you felt better, laying on a huge bed covered with blankets and furs.

"I know you would like to have some time alone, but I can't leave you as of now." The dragon explained when he lowered himself on the bed. "You will heal better with me close. You can handle it, my lady, can't you?"

You wished his hot hand was not on your belly as you shivered from his touch, but you kept silent and nodded. Even if you did not want to be close to the man who could burn you to ashes within a minute, you had no right to protest. Maybe you would heal faster just as he said.

"Sleep now, my love." Steve pressed his burning lips to your forehead. "It will get better tomorrow."

You said nothing as he pulled the blanket over you and moved closer. This intimacy with a man was foreign to you, but he did nothing other than holding you in his arms. He didn't want to hurt or use you. He only kept you safe just as he said before, you tried to assure yourself.

Thinking of his gigantic scaled wings of blue and gold colors, you quickly drifted off to sleep.

____________

The next morning you woke up to the divine smell of fresh fruits and honey, the dragon placing some peculiar dishes right on the bed around you. When you gaped at him, he let out a low chuckle and gave you a wet towel to wipe your sleepy face. He insisted that you ate right after waking up, claiming that your body needed strength - most of your wounds disappeared during the night. Apparently, it was all his magic.

"Try this, my lady." He easily sliced an odd red fruit with his razor sharp claw. "This one is special."

"Why?" You asked timidly, but took a piece and saw the white pulp with little black seeds inside it.

"It is called dragon fruit." He answered, proud. "It tastes like nothing else, believe me."

You smiled back at the man and took a little bite, feeling something sweet and sour on your tongue. He was right, you had never ever tried anything like that. Snatching more pieces of the fruit from Steve, you started eating them so fast he ended up laughing and rolling over the bed.

Then he took you to the pond again and gave you your new clothes, a white nightgown embroidered with golden threads and a blue robe, soft as a cloud. Once you changed, Steve showed you around his cave, giving you an opportunity to look at his fabulous treasures - golden and silver coins, gems, jewellery, armour, statues, all those things you had never seen before. He said you could take anything you wanted except for a few magic tools that were unsafe to use. You felt like you were living in a fairytale.

However, you became frightened again once the dragon told you he had neither servants nor concubines. When you asked what had happened to all those women who were sacrificied earlier, he simply said he took them to the other kingdom far, far away as he had no need for them. But over the seven seas, where women were treated better than here, no one could take them against their will, he claimed, and all of them agreed to leave to start a new life. Did a place like that truly exist?..

"Will you bring me there too?" You whispered, afraid of your own thoughts.

You didn't like that look in his eyes. It didn't sit well with you.

"I do not think it is... wise, my love." His quiet voice alarmed you. "The women I brought over the seven seas were stronger than you... smarter than you. No one was as fragile, easily broken. Look what had happened when those peasants kidnapped you. You barely stayed alive."

"But..." Your eyes were glistening with tears again. "... You said women were not treated like posessions there... Why won't I be safe?"

"Nowhere is safe if you can't protect yourself even a little. I pray you stay mindful, my lady."

You had nothing to say, lowering your gaze to your bare feet and clutching the silk fabric of your elaborate nightgown. Although the dragon was right, it was hard to believe now he truly let all those women go. Were you that bad? That feeble he decided to leave you with him? It was unfair. You had the right to decide your own fate even if he considered you weak.

You didn't say it, though. He could still burn or eat you alive if you protested against his decisions, you thought. When his claws scraped over your gentle skin, you bit down on your lip and nodded again.

You were trapped.

"Until I get stronger, who am I here? What do I do?" You whispered, not meeting his gaze, and the man softly caressed the top of your head. "Am I a prisoner?"

"Of course not, my dear." He shook his head at your words and took your cold hands into his own, his skin so hot it was almost burning. "You are my precious sacrificial bride, my treasure. The only thing I demand from you is obeying me, love. Do what I tell you, and you will always be safe."

He wrapped his hands around your back and made you lean on him, pressing your head to his wide chest and kissing your temple. There was so much tenderness in his moves it almost made you cry. Why did it have to be like that?

"Can you make me stronger?" You moved your head to look at him and saw his bemused expression.

"Forgive me, my dear, but women like you are not made to overcome hardships of life." The dragon's fingers stroked your flushed cheek. "I cannot share my strength with you, I'm afraid. But I can protect you. It is enough, isn't it?"

You nodded once more, keeping your eyes shut and listening to him breathing slowly. You knew little of how possesive the dragons were once they spotted a treasure they wanted to keep for themselves.

#steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #steve rogers #captain america #yandere

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cptnbvcks · 4 years

Text

salt berries (mandalorian x reader)

summary: the mandalorian likes berries. he likes them more when you’re the one feeding them to him.

warnings: finger-lickin’ mutual pining and sexual tension. gut wrenching fluff between two touch starved people.

a/n: i had to get up and take a walk after writing this. the idea came to mind and i wanted to write a short little piece with the most soul crushing pining and sexual tension i could conjure up. hope you enjoy! rb & leave a comment and tell me what you think the mandalorian’s kink is 🥵

“What are you feeding him?”

You startle at the sleepy drag of the Mandalorian’s voice, deeper still through the synthetic warping of his helmet’s modulator.

The orange summer heat of Sorgan must have lulled him off. If not the heat, you were sure his battle battered body had finally relented to its own exhaustion.

You wonder how long he’s been awake as you turn away from the cooing baby, finding him still in the same position he had fallen asleep in, arms clasped loosely over his stomach and his body slack with relaxation against the wicker cot.

His helmet was still facing the sky and you wondered if his eyes were even open, if he was watching the smattering of translucent clouds as they drifted in the vast ocean of the planet’s sky. You wondered if he was watching you instead from the corner of his eye.

“Salt berries,” you respond, itching the top of the child’s forehead as he babbled in delight from within the straw basket filled with blankets. You dusted your skirts as you stood, leaving the child to observe as you approached his pseudo-father, “Omera’s daughter just dropped some off.”

“I can smell them,” The Mandalorian says, his head still unmoving as you lowered yourself down to the floor beside his daybed, stretching your legs out before you. Amusement plays on your face as you bite back a teasing smile, setting the bowl of vibrant purple berries down on your lap.

“I didn’t think you still had a sense of smell under that thing.”

The Mandalorian’s head shifts and now you feel the warm heat of his gaze, hotter than the evening sun on the back of your neck as you unsuccessfully press your lips together to hide the grin that threatens to spread across your face. You wonder for a fleeting moment if he was smiling too.

“Sorry,” you apologize, but even the word comes out on the bursting bubble of a laugh. Lowering your gaze, you pluck a berry from the bowl and slip it past your lips, hoping that by keeping your mouth busy it might spare the bounty hunter from your sharp tongue.

The berry was plump with juice and sweet bursting flesh. The thin skin of it textured with frosted dew points that left a small brackish tang on your tongue. It tinted your lips sunset pink.

The Mandalorian was still watching you.

A sudden wave of timidness washed over you like a sun-warmed gust of air.

He watched you a lot more often these days. You would pretend not to notice, but you always caught the quick turn of his helmet in your periphery when you glanced back his way. Nervously, you pressed your lips together as your tongue swiped across your sticky lower lip.

You noticed a falter in the steady rise and fall of his chest.

Had he been holding his breath?

“Salt berries,” he repeated, testing the words on his tongue, “I’ve never heard of them before.”

“Do you want a taste?”

The silence that falls after your question makes you want to swallow the words right out of the air and kill them before they reach the Mandalorian’s ear. Your cheeks match the berry stain of your lips and your brows cringe together with embarrassment. You open your mouth to apologize again but the quiet suddenness of his response squashes the words before they form.

“Yes.”

His voice is heavy through the modulator, ladened with something that made such a simple affirmation sound like both a demand and a plead. He doesn’t move from his position and you realize that he’s waiting for you to come to him.

Your eyes search the vacantness of his helmet’s visor as another beat of silence passes between you. Slowly, you gather the rags of your skirts and shift on your knees until you’re beside his cot.

Still, he does not move.

You don’t know why you do it. You don’t know what compels you. Perhaps it’s the stillness of him, the quiet docility of his position that almost reminds you of the temptation to pet a sleeping beast that only looks friendly while it’s unconscious. Your hand lifts towards the underside of his helmet.

The speed of him startles the breath from your lungs as he catches your wrist. His grip is firm but he does not hurt you. He never hurts you. Your eyes flicker to the visor again, assuming where his eyes may be. All you can see is the reflection of yourself in the glimmering beskar steel.

“This stays on,” the Mandalorian says. His words are firm. No room for argument or negotiation. Still, a softness lingers there. Quiet, but loud in the words he doesn’t speak. The desires he would never voice.

“This is the Way,” his voice trails at the dutiful repetition of the Mandalore chant.

Longing.

Even through the warbling of the modulator, you hear it and it pulls apart your heart.

You nod. His fingers loosen, hesitating a moment longer around the cusp of your wrist before releasing you completely. The profoundness of the Mandalorian’s trust is not lost on you.

Your eyes follow the path of your hand as your fingertips brush against the rough protective cloth that rose over his neck before disappearing beneath the headgear. You hope he can’t feel the small tremor of your hand as it slips between the gap of his helmet, your palm resting meekly over the curve of his jaw as your fingertips find the edge of the material.

You can feel his breath. Unsteady.

The Mandalorian was nervous.

Slowly, you pulled the loose fabric down over his mouth, his chin and jaw. Stubble scratches roughly over your knuckles and the humid air of his unhindered exhale felt just as comforting as the mid-summer atmosphere.

The moment’s glimmer of surprise danced over your features as you pressed your palm to the warm flesh of his cheek, bare and vulnerable and oh — so human. He exhaled, shorter than the last breath, and you felt it on the inside of your wrist. You couldn’t see his face, but the hazy image of him grew a little clearer now.

For a moment, you couldn’t feel the weight of his stare. Perhaps his eyes had slipped closed.

“The berries,” he reminded you, his voice soft and coaxing. Careful as he broke you out of whatever quiet thoughts you were having.

Your cheeks burned redder as you drew your hand back, averting your gaze back to the bowl of berries.

“Sorry,” you apologize again, shaking your head slightly at the flustered realization that maybe you had been too forward.

“Don’t be. It’s... alright.”

You looked back up at the bounty hunter as the reassurance seemed to hesitate in his mouth. For once, it seemed, the Mandalorian was at a loss for words and it wasn’t because he had nothing to say. On the contrary — the Mandalorian, all at once, had far too much that he wished to say. Things that he knew that, once spoken, could never again be unspoken.

So he fell into his silence again as you picked out a supple looking berry from the bowl.

You dipped your fingers beneath his helmet again, trying your hardest not to drop the small fruit as your fingertip bumped against the soft texture of his lip.

He was watching you again.

Gods, you could have whimpered as you felt his lips part for you. Not enough for the berry to slip in easily. No — he only parted his lips just enough that you had to press the round body of the berry until he caught it on the tip of his tongue.

Your mouth ran dry as the warm wetness of his tongue dragged over the delicate pad of your finger. Against your own volition, your own tongue brushed over the plush flesh of your bottom lip before you caught it between your teeth.

His lips closed around your fingertip for just a moment longer, nursing the berry juice from your skin, before you drew your hand away. The Mandalorian may well have burned you from the way the warmth of his mouth drew an incessant awareness to the heartbeat that thrummed under your skin.

You felt breathless and dizzy, warm all over from a heat that wasn’t caused by the mid-year Sorgan sun. This fire was solely the Mandalorian’s.

Behind the beskar, the man watched you — seeing the way your berries stained your lips and wondered if his lips were stained to match. The berries were named aptly; salty and sweet, exploding all at once on his tongue, though the taste of your fingertips lingered beneath. Salty sweet.

He imagined that your mouth tasted the same.

—

Tag List:

@ironlady1993 @sophiria @bootyshaketaylor @imspillingcoffee @plumbuck @sullyosully @supernaturaldean67 @hailmary-yramliah @romqnofff @captainsmallassrogers @saturnki @sexygaypalpatine @princess-evans-addict @elisaa-shelby @perplexed3001 @readermia @shadowcatsworld

please let me know if you’d like to be taken off of the tags, or if you’d like to be tagged in only one specific fic or series! feel free to message me if you would like to be added to the tag list! love u guys!

#the mandalorian #mandalorian x reader #dyn jarren x reader #pedro pascal #dyn jarren #my HEART #myfic #baby yoda #he's just here to be cute #the title of this fic came bc i misheard harry styles' saying 'strawberries' in watermelon sugar #i thought he deadass said salt berries and i thought that sounded yummy

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wornoutmouse · 3 years

Text

I'm doing a Haikyuu male reader next of my own devising since hoes don't want to request 🙄.Fyi i write smut, angst, and fluff just tell me yeah charcter, category and plot of you want.

Sukuna x Gojo x femReader

Don't ask the time period i don't even know man😓😭 I'd like to say it's set in Africa during like the era when Japan still had emperor's.

Once again sorry I'm working so slow sometimes plots don't work and i have to restart.

But reciving the news of my teacher/second father's death this morning has urged me to bury myself in work.

Yokai Gojo and Sukuna

When they speak japanese it will be bold

Warnings: manipulation, behind the scenes murder, hidden angst

You were a fool for venturing out in the wilderness by yourself. Have you learned nothing from your grandmother?!

The sound of crows and cicadas vibrated around you as you walked through the forest. You were only out here for some berries, so how on earth did you get lost?

Your feet were bare and sore, and the sky was only getting darker as the sun lowered. Finally deciding that continuing to walk wouldn't help, you opt to climb a tree.

As you climbed further, you prayed that you wouldn't fall as numerous species of insects crawled throughout the tree and unfortunately on your hands and back.

Reaching a height great enough that you could see over the trees, you spot water in the distance. It was the river just east from your village and that was a promising sign that you weren't a complete idiot.

Climbing down the tree with less grace than you came, you head in the direction of the river, and soon the forest floor is shrouded in shadows as the sun finally sets. You hug yourself and press your arms close to your shaking body.

As you walked, you noticed warm light peeking through shrubbery ahead. You slowed your steps and walked with your feet at an angle. By some miracle, you avoided the sticks below you. "Wait till I tell father about this he'll have to let me hunt with him"

You grimace, "Assuming he'll let me leave home ever again after this" Thinking of your father put a sour taste in your mouth. The man loved you, truly, but the only way he deemed you safe is if you are at home all the time or if you are with your future husband at all times. One of which you were not ready for, and the other you'd rather not.

You got as close to the light as you could without being noticed, and crouched. Two men stood next to each other facing a fire in the opposite direction of you. Good, you could stay down wind. A rough voice spoke, but you were not able to understand the strange language he spoke.

They were tall and pale and the clothes they wore, was not of your region. The closest you could compare it to was the robes worn by the elders once they reached a certain age.

Their hair color was strange as well. The tallest one had hair the color of winter snow meanwhile the other's hair was pink like your mother's roses. They spoke more but you still couldn't understand what they were saying.

The one with white hair seemed familiar to you yet you couldn't quite place it. Either way, you didn't feel safe approaching them on your own so you decided to walk around.

You shift from one foot to the other and fall back on your bottom as something flies over your head. Looking behind, you saw a knife in a tree behind you.

"Screw this!" You whispered to yourself, taking off. You run blindly through the forest, jumping over fallen trees and on many occasions running on all fours when you fell down.

Fear should have been on your mind but all you could think of was how your mother would kill you when she saw the tears that were most likely forming on your clothes.

After you get a good distance, you stop and take in your surroundings. To your left, you gaze with wide eyes, at the reflection of the moon on the lake. Hopefulness filled your heart as you saw twinkling fire coming from your village in the distance.

You were finally home, is all you thought as you took a step forward. You freeze as a shiver goes down your spine and moments later, something wraps itself around your ankles, dragging you back into the dark forest.

You cover your face as you're dragged across the floor. It was a long while till you stopped and when you did, you found yourself back to the two men as they towered over you.

They looked down at you, well one did, the others eyes were covered and that scared you more than the man grinning sinisterly above you.

"Would you look at that, you got pretty far,, my vine couldn't even reach you till you stopped." The vine releases you and you quickly crawl back. "You should have kept running I love a good chase." The man with white hair grinned down at you, hands in the sleeves of his robe.

The pink haired man crouched in front of you, and you flinch as your see fangs flash in the fun light. "Demon." You whimper as you look at the smaller eyes surrounding his normal ones.

Black markings surrounded his face and down his chest that was strangely bare despite the cool air. "You like what you see?" While you couldn't understand him verbally, it was obvious that he was gloating.

You turn your face haughtily, "She doesn't speak Japanese." Gojo finally spoke up, looking at you with subtle interest. He recognized you from his visit to your village. Well it wasn't necessarily a 'visit' more like he watched from afar.

You had seen him before though, whether you knew it or not.

Gojo cleared his throat, "Can you tell us what you were doing in the bushes?" Your eyes widened at his ability to speak your language. While it was comforting, it was even more suspicious.

"I was going home, and your light caught my attention." You said calmly. It's best that they don't know you were lost. Your eyes darted to the pink haired man who stayed crouched in front of you.

He raises his hand towards you, and you swallow as his sharp nails come into view. "You're a pretty little thing aren't you?" You resist the urge to slap his hands away as he uses the back of his finger to caress your cheek.

These men are dangerous, one clearly more reckless than the other. All it took was one wrong move and you'd be on the receiving end of that danger. "I would like to be on my way, sorry for bothering you."

You stand up and take a few steps back. A warm chest stops your retreat and you look up to see the white haired man standing behind you. "What's the rush, can't we have a little fun? Look, if you entertain us a bit, we'll walk you home." The pink haired man said in a singsong voice.

You shook your head and walked around the white haired man. "No thank you, it's not that far." The white haired man shrugged and watched you walk away. "We really gonna let a good piece of ass like that go?" Sukuna grumbled as he watched the darkness swallow your form.

Gojo placed his hands behind his head, "She'll be back don't worry."

You walked in the direction you had before, but it seemed as if you were no closer to leaving the forest like before. You climbed a tree and saw the river once again and walked towards it. But it seemed as if you were truly making no moves towards it whatsoever.

After a while of sitting in the nerve racking darkness, you walk back in the direction of the men, hoping they haven't left yet. It was against your better judgement, but they were the only option you had left.

To your luck, they hadn't left and were tending to their own flames. When you came back into view, they looked up at you. And you tried to ignore the rose haired man's knowing smirk.

The white hair man, that you have come to trust more than the other, waved at you slightly as you got closer to the fire. "I thought you were going home?" You shrugged your shoulders embarrassed.

"I got lost." Both men humed with mock concern. The pink haired man walked towards you loosely. "That's not good, I'm sure your family is worried sick." You nodded absent-mindedly. An arm is slung around your shoulder and you lean into it, basking in the warmth.

"Well we can't have that now can we Gojo?" The pink haired man looked at the man next to you, Gojo. "No I don't think I'd be able to sleep easily if I left you alone, how about you Sukuna."

If one were to have looked up. One would have noticed a strangeness to the sky above. Almost as if being covered by a bubble the sky closed and got considerably darker.

A barrier. After all, wouldn't want anyone to hear you scream.

"So do you promise to entertain?" Sukuna held out his hand and you looked at it. The black lines wrapping around his arms seemed to move but you summed it up to being a truck of the light. "What kind of entertainment?"

Gojo squeezed your shoulders and you shivered as his warm breath brushed against your ear. "Nothing you won't enjoy as well, we're all adults here aren't we?" You could feel your face warm at the implications. "I-I don't think I can do that."

You go to stand and the barrier above stops. "Aw what a shame." Sukuna turns back around as if heading to sit down but stopping. "But how will you get home!?" You furrow your berries, weren't they still going to take you?

Gojo noticed your face, "Ah, my dear this is a world of give and take. So I'm afraid we can't do things without a price. But if you feel better off on your own figuring your way through the dark woods, then we respect your decision."

You didn't want to do that and they both knew it.

"What do you want in return?" Gojo and Sukuna shared a look with each other. Your eyes widened as Gojo's hand trailed down your back, drawing circles when it got just above your butt. "Just a little pleasure…mixed with a little pain." Sukuna's teeth shined in the fire's light.

"Pain?! Out here?!? No, anyone could see!" You stood up, Gojo following suit. He had yet to say anything but knew Sukuna could handle it.

Like a snake, the tatted man came close to you and held your chin as one arm wrapped around your waist. "Oh calm down sweet cheeks, a little pain never hurt anybody." He leaned forward closer to your neck and you suck in a breath as you feel him nibble on your earlobe. "I'll make sure of it."

Gojo pressed against your back, "Don't worry about being seen." He clicked his fingers and suddenly you found yourself shrouded in darkness. In the middle of said darkness, was a large bed with a bright sourceless light glaring down at it.

Hands are on you in an instant, and you are pulled into the bed with Sukuna behind you and Gojo in front.

Because you were only wearing short bottoms, your legs were easily accessible. Hot wet kisses are layed on your caves as Gojo travels up your body.

Sukuna was less attentive. Taking your face in a harsh grip and kissing you roughly. You squeaked as his thumb nail pierced your cheek. A red red stream of blood falls down your cheek and Sukuna laps it up like a starved animal.

"Be gentle with her." Gojo tutted at his rude counterpart who only scoffed. "Why should I when breaking them is the best part?!" Your neck was gripped tightly and forced you to watch Gojo nip at your clothed thighs. "You like that don't you?" You shook your head embarrassed as Gojo's hands went behind you, cupping your ass.

He skillfully massages them before tugging your pants down. "You're moving too damn slow Satoru."

Sukuna's rough voice made you turn as it vibrates against the shell of your ear. "Patience, wouldn't want to hurt them." "That's the point as far as I'm concerned."

Sukuna puts his hands under your shirt and goes to cup your small chest. "I usually prefer mine with a little more here but I guess you'll have to do." Your body twitches as Sukuna mercilessly pinches and pulls at your nipples till they became puffy.

You close your eyes as you feel Gojo's warm mouth cover your pussy. His tongue played with your lips before pushing farther. You were beyond wet at this point and his tongue was simply sinful.

Sukuna was starting to feel ignored, so it was no surprise when he made it known. He pushes at Gojo's head with his foot before turning you around to face him on your knees. Fingers swipe over your lips before trailing up to your head.

You wince as his fingers curl into your fro, pulling your face to his crotch. "Why don't you put that pretty mouth of yours to use?" You fumble clumsily with the soft cloth of his robes before finally finding the prize. You lost all nerve when you saw how thick it was.

Forget going inside of you, you doubt it could even fit in your mouth. Sukuna pressed your face closer, urging you to start. You stick your tongue out hesitantly and collect the salty fluids dripping out of the tip. Just from that small simulation, Sukuna groans lowly.

Gojo had long since resumed his meal, and the sounds leaving his mouth was obscene. You couldn't see it but Sukuna watched with curious eyes as Gojo's face developed into a bit of a red color as he pressed his mouth against you.

Faint whimpers could be heard from him and the vibrations shook your core the louder he got. "Hey Satoru what's with that face, you're moaning like a bitch." Gojo doesn't respond as he grips your thighs harder. Sukuna pressed your face closer to his dick and you have no choice but to take him in your mouth.

You bobbed your head as his hand guided you relentlessly. With his other hand, Sukuna leaned forward and tugged at Gojo's blindfold.

Gojo's face was just as lewd as the noises he made. His sky blue eyes were shining with unshed tears and Sukuna had never seen a man look as content. You stop sucking when something wet hits your lower leg.

Looking in between your thighs, Sukuna laughs as he sees Gojo helplessly humping the air as warm ropes of cum spurted from his exposed cock. Sakuna gripped Gojo's now limp hair and the snow blond man glared at him through his dazed eyes. "You really are a bitch aren't you?"

Gojo reached forward and gripped Sukuna's face just as harshly, "Yes but this bitch knows how to please a woman." With that, he kisses Sukuna, forcing his tongue past his lips and exploring his mouth.

You watched, mouth agape as the men showed such an intimate display of dominance. Sukuna's fingers trailed down your back as he tongue fucked Gojo. Gaining more dominance, Sukuna fluidly pushes Gojo back far enough that he could slip two of his fingers inside of you.

While it was uncomfortable due to his sharp nails, you couldn't help but get a thrill as they scraped against your walls. Sukuna jerks his head away, his ruby eyes flared with lust and confidence. "Let's see about that."

You find yourself on your back with your head hanging off of the bed as Sukuna takes place over you and Gojo stands above you. The white haired man was beyond red and his dick was fairing no better.

It was long and an angry purple, dripping with so much pre cum that it had made his dick slick and shiny.

As if under a spell you open your mouth and Gojo quickly slides inside, gripping the sheets next to your head tightly as he face fucks you. You gag profusely as the head relentlessly slides down your throat without stopping.

You bring your hands to grip his thighs to try and gain some bearing but that only spurs him on as his thrust became rougher, and the sound of you choking becomes rhythmic as drool collects in the corner of your mouth.

"What happened to treating her gently?" Sukuna smirks as he watches the skin around your neck bulge with each thrust. "S-Sorry, young lady, but your mouth is so fucking warm and tight." Gojo slows himself into a slow grind, tapping his fingers against the bulge in your neck. You finally get a chance to breathe through your nose.

Sukuna finger fucks you a little bit more, scraping his nails uncomfortably against the walls of your cunt. When he pulls them out, they are soaked and he licks his fingers clean, humming at the taste.

He positions himself at your entrance and pushes in without stopping. Your pained moan is muffled by the sound of Gojo's balls hitting your forehead but Sukuna still hears it and mutters out a quick apology as he goes slower. "Fu-ah~, what happened to breaking them?" Gojo said mockingly.

Sukuna glares before snapping his hips forward, sheathing himself completely inside of you. Your nails dug into Gojo's skin, and his hips stutterd as he moaned. Sukuna grips your chests and uses them for momentum as he opens you up on his dick. "For someone that was so reluctant, you sure are fucking wet down here."

Sukuna uses his thumb to circle your clit and your hips raised unapologetically from the shocks of pleasure. "Filthy little human." Sukuna laughed as he continued to play with your swollen clit.

Mixed with your lack of property oxygen, the boys running to your head, and the two sources of pleasure, your thighs shake and you cum around Sukuna's dick. He laughs darkly, speeding up his thrusts as he holds your limp legs in the air. "Yes, cum again. I want to feel your pathetic pussy squeeze my dick."

Gojo had stilled and was breathing heavily as he watched Sukuna disappear inside of you. "My turn." His still hard cock slips out of your mouth and you find yourself thrown into a coughing fit.

Sukuna begrudgingly switches spots with Gojo but takes joy in holding your head as he uses your mouth like a fleshlight. "Fuuuuuck. Perfect little mouth for me. I want you to swallow my cum wench!" You whined as Gojo pushes his cock inside of you.

It was longer than Sukuna's and you could already feel the soreness as the tip grazed against your cervix. Gojo adjusts your legs to rest on his shoulders as he folds you over.

The sensations are entirely too much as air is pushed out of you from the restricting position. The sensitive walls of your cunt both sucked and pushed Gojo's cock as he delivered deliberately slow strokes. "So messy down here." Gojo uses the palm of his hand to quickly swish at your clit.

Your brown legs tremble around your head and Sukuna uses this chance to grab your feet as leverage.

By now, your mouth had completely gone slack as he abused your throat, completely ignoring the scrape of your teeth around his shaft. "Fuck I'm gonna cum." Sukuna groans, speeding up. Gojo speeds up as well, "Shit me too, you better cum with me you two-faced bastard.!"

You grip the sheets for dear life and between you and me, you blacked out as the two filled your holes with milky cum. The tangling of body's unraveled and rested together as you all came down from your highs.

Well the boys did, you fell asleep.

They tuck you into the bed after Gojo changed the sheets. "So you said you can keep her in your zone?" Gojo nodded as he did his best to put your 4c hair into braids.

"Yeah, but what are we gonna do if she asks to go home." Sukuna smiled as he looked at his nails. Sinister later fills the empty abyss of Gojo's zone and the man looked boredly as Sukuna laughed.

"She can't go somewhere that no longer exists."

#black y/n #blackreader #jjk sukuna #jjk smut #gojo smut #sukuna smut

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slytherinbarnes · 3 years

Text

Sub Rosa [60]

ii. red queen

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: fighting, violence, angst.

Summary: You and Clarke adjust to your new life with your new family.

a/n: i wanna thank yall for all of the love recently! ive been dealing with a lot of personal stuff and have bad days, but then i log onto tumblr and see the sweetest messages from all of you and I start to feel better so thank you!!! the taglist for this series is open! I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

You and Clarke quickly agree that you should both teach Madi English. Though you both feel pretty comfortable with Trigedasleng, most of your friends and family don’t know it as well, and you want Madi to be able to communicate with them when you all eventually reunite. When you propose the idea to Madi, she seems eager to learn the language of the warriors. Most of your day is now spent watching Madi point to various objects as you and Clarke teach her the word in English.

One day after spending most of the morning teaching her, Madi drags you and Clarke down to the river, excitedly promising to teach the two of you something in return. Which is where you find yourself now, ankle deep in the water, the sun warming your back. Madi stands in the river between you and Clarke, a spear in her hand, eyes scanning the water around you. You and Clarke watch her closely, trying to take mental notes on her stance, her grip on the spear, her concentration, hoping to learn to catch fish the same way she does.

Madi spies an approaching fish, and she lunges, spearing it easily, holding it up for you and Clarke to admire. But neither of your eyes are locked on the fish, instead, they are locked on the chain around her neck, which wiggled free during her movements. There hangs a silver chain, a familiar small silver sun hanging from it, swinging around as Madi looks between you and Clarke in confusion. Clarke reaches out for it, trying to get a better look, but Madi scrambles away, still slightly distrustful of you both. She approaches Madi again, much slower this time, letting the young girl know she’s not a threat. Clarke eyes the necklace, checking it over, before whispering in shock. “It’s definitely mom’s. Where did you get this?”

Madi shakes her head at Clarke, not understanding, still working on speaking full sentences in English. You pull your own chain from beneath your shirt, showing her the silver moon, before pointing to the one around her neck. She looks down at it, starting to understand, and she whispers, “Maunon.”

Mountain Men. You look at Clarke, realization already hitting you. “The Mountain Men. You were wearing mom’s necklace when they took you.”

A memory comes rushing back to her, one you hadn’t heard before. “Lincoln told me they leave things everywhere when they disposed of it, but he said they usually stuck to the same few areas, and sometimes you could find some good stuff amongst the pile of discarded things.”

You shake your head in shock, staring at the necklace, the last one in the set from your father, now around the neck of the last child on Earth. You let out a short laugh of disbelief, “What are the odds?”

“It’s like it’s fate. We were supposed to find her.”

You point to the charm and Madi says, “Deimeika.”

You respond in English, “Sun.”

“Sun?” You nod, letting her know her pronunciation is correct, and she repeats, “Sun.”

You smile at Madi and she smiles back at you. “Our very own dazzling sun.”

Clarke pulls up her sleeve, revealing the single star charm from your father, and a second charm, a cluster of stars, handcrafted by Finn. When she shows it to Madi, the young girl says, “Skaifaya.”

“Stars.” Madi repeats the word back to you, and when you both nod in approval, you kneel beside her, holding out your moon necklace, completing the trio. “Natshana.”

“Moon.”

When Madi repeats the last word, you feel a strange rush of emotion, overcome by an overwhelming surge of love and adoration for your new found family. This next generation of women, the new trio of the sun, the moon, and the stars, who somehow found each other at the end of the world. You wish your dad was here to see it, to witness the legacy that he created and passed on to you and Clarke. You look at your family, a smile stretching across your face, and you whisper Clarke’s earlier words. “It’s fate.”

You drive the rover back towards Shallow Valley, home, nearly back from your multi day trip alone. You and Clarke agreed that the earlier trip to retrieve solar panels from Alie’s field needed to be done, both of you aware of how valuable the rover is to your survival. You volunteer to go alone, and Clarke stays behind with Madi, a back up plan established in case you don’t show up within four days of leaving. You also take your radio and the satellite dish, and Clarke keeps the one walkie talkie with her. Most of the trip takes you out of range of the walkie, but it gives you both an extra layer of assurance that you can reach out if something happens.

The trip, though, was uneventful. Boring, slightly lonely, but uneventful. Clarke and Madi made sure you had enough food and water for your trek through the desert, and the journey was a lot less awful than the last time you took it. You were able to easily retrieve the panels and attach them to a sled that Clarke rigged up for you, allowing you to safely drag the panels behind you instead of needing to carry them all the way back to the rover.

When you finally reached the vehicle, it was exactly where you left it, untouched, unbothered. You replaced the panels and put the extra panels in the back before hopping inside and beginning the drive back to your home. You spend most of the drive back talking on the radio to Bellamy, a habit that has stuck with you, even now. And though he never answers, it brings you comfort to talk to him, updating him on everything that has happened on the ground since he left.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when you see the sign to the village, and you drive the last few feet into the village, parking in the center. Clarke and Madi must hear you approach, because they come running out of the house, grins on their faces. Madi tears across the field and jumps into your arms, squeezing you in a hug. She whispers into your hair, “I was afraid you weren't coming back.”

You pull away to look at her. “I wouldn't leave the two of you.”

“Good.”

You smile at your twin over Madi’s head and she smiles in return, happy to see you. You turn to the rover and sit Madi in the driver’s seat, her legs just shy of reaching the pedals. You marvel at her height, the few inches she’s grown since you and Clarke found her nearly two years ago. “You’ll be reaching the pedals in no time.”

“And then you’ll teach me?”

You turn to look at Clarke, leaving the decision ultimately up to her, knowing she’s more of Madi’s parental figure than you are. Clarke can't help but smile at Madi’s excitement. “Yes, then we’ll teach you.”

“Until then…” You motion for her to move over and she does, and you jump into the vehicle and pull her onto your lap. “I’ll push the pedals and you steer.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” You look at Clarke, reaching over to hold up Maya’s ipod. “Where to?.”

Clarke jogs over to the passenger seat and pulls herself inside, turning to look at you and Madi as you turn the rover on. “Wherever the road takes us.”

You sit at one of the tables in the middle of the village, slowly patching a hole in one of Madi’s shirts. The sun shines down on you through the trees, keeping you warm, but not uncomfortable, and all around you are the sounds of life in the woods. Bees buzzing, birds chirping, animals scurrying through the bushes. The sounds bring a smile to your face, reminding you of a time when you and Clarke stepped out of a lab, greeted by nothing but death.

As you start to reminisce, you see a flash of movement nearby, and you look up just in time to see Madi slinking your way. You can tell by the way she’s moving that she’s planning something, and you put the shirt down on the table, watching her in amusement as she gets closer. She stops behind one of the smaller houses and looks towards you, motioning for you to join her. You suppress your laughter as you walk over to join her, ducking behind a house, out of view.

“I want to prank Clarke.” She holds up a container of something black and liquidy. “With this.”

You dip your finger into the bowl and taste the liquid, lips puckering when you realize she picked some blackberries from the field, barely ripe, very tart. You smile and nod. “What do you have in mind?”

“Put it on my head and pretend I got hurt.”

You immediately shake your head. “If Clarke sees you bloody and thinks you’re dead, but then she finds out it’s a prank, she’ll definitely kill us both.”

“Fine, then we’ll put it on your head and pretend you got hurt.”

You smile. “Sounds like a plan.”

She leads you over to the clearing, out of view from the church, and directs you on how to lay. Once you’re positioned, she starts smearing and dripping the berry mixture onto your head, and you watch her as she works, face pulled into one of intense concentration. When she finishes, a grin spreads across her face, pleased with her work. “There. Now I’ll go get Clarke and tell her you got hurt, and you just lie very still.”

“Will do, boss.”

She stands and waits for you to close your eyes, so you do, rolling your head slightly to the side for dramatic effect. You hear her feet running away from you, followed by the sound of her retreating voice. “Clarke, Clarke, come quick, ani got hurt!”

You hear Clarke clamber out of the house, and you know exactly when she sees you because her footsteps quicken as she questions Madi. “What happened to her?”

“I don’t know, she said she was going to check the traps and I went to clean the rover like you told me to. When I got back, I just found her here like this.”

You hear Clarke drop down beside you, and her fingers lift to your face, gingerly tipping your head to look for a wound. “Madi get me a cloth, I need to wipe some of this blood away.”

Madi runs off and you hear her return seconds later, musing, “Maybe something in the trap attacked her.”

“The traps are only big enough for squirrels and rabbits, they’d be too small to attack her.”

You have to work hard to hold back laughter as you imagine a squirrel and a rabbit cornering you and beating you up. As Clarke grabs the cloth from Madi, she must see something wrong because she mutters, “What’s all over your hands?”

You peek an eye open, Clarke turned away from you, staring down at Madi’s berry stained hands. Madi pulls her hand away, trying to keep the prank going, but Clarke grabs her wrist and stops her, peering at her finger to get a better look. The expression on her face is one of utter bewilderment, and you can't help the giggle that breaks free from your mouth, amused by the expression on your twin’s face. Clarke’s head whips towards you in shock, her face scrunching into annoyance when she sees you lying in the grass, laughing at her. Beside you, Madi is also giggling, pleased with the prank she played. Clarke glares at you both, “That’s not funny! I thought you were hurt!”

You sit up and run a finger through the berries on your head, licking the mixture off your finger to prove to Clarke it’s benign. “Just a few blackberries.”

Clarke rolls her eyes and stands, already over the two of you. “Just for that, you both have dinner and clean up duty for the next three days.”

You both start to protest, but she holds up her hand to stop you, adopting her very serious mom tone. “Nope, no complaints. You’ve had your fun, now get back to work.”

Madi turns and heads towards the rover, already obeying and returning to her earlier chores, and Clarke turns to you as she walks away, giving you a smile. You smile back, fighting back a giggle at how well she plays the parent, and Clarke hands you the cloth so you can clean up. “You’re trouble.”

You shake your head, wiping the berries from your face. “She’s trouble, and she drags me into it.”

Clarke snorts, “Yeah, I bet.”

The two of you exchange a serious look, staring hard at each other, but you both break quickly, falling into a fit of laughter. As her laughter dies down, she motions back towards the house, “I have to finish up inside.”

“Yeah, I was fixing Madi’s shirt.”

Clarke starts to walk away, heading back to the house, but she turns around and calls back, “Can't wait to see what you have planned for dinner.”

Your mouth drops, sure that she was joking earlier with the punishment. “I thought you were kidding!”

“Nope! Do the crime, you do the time!”

You laugh and shake your head, calling back, “Fine, but I’m making all the foods you hate!”

“Can't wait!”

You peer down at the scar on your arm, given to you by Madi, now completely healed. The scar crosses over part of the scar you got from Clarke’s helmet during Praimfaya, making an X on your skin. You shake your head, your body quickly becoming a roadmap of scars from the various wounds you’ve received since landing on the ground. You’re about to seek out your other scars, prepared to reminisce, when you hear Clarke call your name outside.

You stand and look around the house you plan to share with Bellamy in the future, smiling at it before you exit, closing the door behind you. You walk towards the center of the village, towards Clarke, and as soon as she sees you approaching, she holds up a dead rabbit. “It’s your turn to cook.”

You groan, staring at the rabbit in your hand. “I hate prepping rabbit, it’s such a pain.”

“I know.”

You roll your eyes, “So you killed a rabbit on purpose then? Just to torture me?”

“No, it’s just the luck of the draw that Madi found a rabbit in the traps today.”

“Right.” You start to reach out to grab the rabbit before you get an idea. “What if we sparred instead?”

“What?”

“We spar, the loser cooks dinner.”

Clarke cocks her head to the side, considering this. “And cleans up?”

“Yes.”

She puts the rabbit down, already stepping into a clearing nearby. “Deal.”

The two of you stand in the clearing, circling each other slowly, fists raised. Clarke goes on the offense, making the first move and stepping towards you, swinging a punch your way. You duck beneath it, her fist missing you, but you don't expect the follow up punch from her other hand, which lands on your face. You pull back in surprise and Clarke grins at you, predatory, a whole different person when she fights. You lunge at her and grab her by the shoulders, holding her in place as you ram your knee into her stomach. She doubles over in pain, slipping out of your grip, and recovers fast enough to swing her arm around and land a hit to your ribs. You jump up and elbow her, catching her in the shoulder, and she grabs your arm as you try to pull away, spinning you around.

She wraps her arm around your neck, putting you in a chokehold, squeezing just enough to get you to tap out. But you’re determined not to give up that easily, and you swing your elbow back and deliver a sharp hit to the side of her face. Her grip loosens and as soon as you’re free you jump away slightly, lifting your fists in a defensive position again. Clarke swings a kick towards you and knocks you off your feet, flat on your back, before she pounces on you. You roll her over easily, giving yourself the advantage, but she uses her feet to push you off her. You both jump up again and stand to face each other, before you run at each other at the same time, swinging your fists and dodging each other in a flurry of movement. Just as you start to get the upper hand, you hear a voice call out, frantic, “Stop! Stop it!”

You and Clarke jump apart, turning to look at Madi, her face pulled into a frown, tears in her eyes. “What are you doing?”

Clarke’s mom mode kicks in and she walks over to Madi, dropping to her knees in front of her. “We’re just playing around.”

“So you’re not fighting?”

You walk closer to her. “Just play fighting.”

“Oh.” You see the distress leave her face, quickly turning into one of interest. “Can you teach me?”

Clarke’s disapproval is immediate, “No.”

“But Clarke-”

“I said no.”

You look at Clarke in confusion. “She should know how to fight. More of us probably would have made it when we landed if we knew how to defend ourselves.”

She turns and gives you a sharp look. “No, I don't want that for her. Besides, we don’t have to worry about things like that anymore. Octavia united the clans. When they get out of the bunker, everything will be fine.”

“Clarke the clans were united under Lexa and still fought.”

“We’ll keep her safe.” She stands, already walking back towards the rabbit, ending the conversation. “No more fighting.”

You watch your twin leave, and you shake your head in disagreement, but think that’s it, the conversation is over. Madi surprises you the next day by finding you down at the river, sitting on a rock, enjoying the sun before you catch a few fish. “I want you to train me.”

You look towards her in shock, already laughing at the request. “No way. Clarke will kill me.”

“Ani, I need to know how to fight. If we’re attacked I won't know anything beyond the few things my birth parents taught me for when the Flamekeepers came.”

You sigh, knowing that you agree. Madi’s odds for survival, both now and in the future, are highest if she knows how to defend herself. And though you see Clarke’s reasoning and understand her fear, you still don’t think that’s enough to keep Madi in the dark. War and death ended all of your childhoods as soon as you landed on the ground, something you all desperately tried to get the adults in your lives to understand. It was hard for them to accept that the kids they sent to the ground were no longer kids, but as soon as you started getting picked off, all of your childhoods ended. You understand that Clarke doesn't want that for Madi, but you hated how defenseless you were before you learned how to fight, use a sword, shoot a gun, and you know you don't want that for Madi. “If we do this, Clarke can't know.”

Madi turns towards you in surprise, fully expecting that you were going to say no. “Really?”

“Really. We’ll train every few days in the berry meadow. Clarke never goes out there, and it’ll be safe for us there.”

“Thank you, ani.” She hugs you tight before standing. “I have to get back before Clarke realizes I left, but we can start tomorrow at noon.”

You nod. “I’ll see you there.”

“In the berry meadow, at noon.”

You nod in confirmation and repeat, “The berry meadow. Noon.”

She smiles and runs off and you smile after her, her joy contagious. The dazzling sun, so bright and warm.

The next day you meet her at the meadow, and every few days after that, teaching her to spar and fight, how to use a sword, and all the basics of guns without actually shooting one. Things go well for a few months, as Madi gets better and better, all without Clarke suspecting a thing. Of course, that doesn't last forever, and Clarke eventually figures everything out. She’s mad at you at first, utterly livid, and she yells at you for at least twenty minutes about how you disobeyed her wishes and went behind her back to do it. But at the end of her speech, she surprises you by saying, “If we’re going to do this, we train her harder and better than anyone ever trained us. We push her until she breaks and then we keep going. We train her until she’s strong. Unstoppable.”

You immediately agree, relieved that Clarke was only mad for a little while. You stand, about to pass the good news to Madi, but Clarke stops you at the door, her voice cold as ice. “Promise me you’ll never go against my wishes for Madi again.”

“I promise.”

You try to leave again, but she stops you. “I’m serious, la lune. If you go against my wishes again, I won’t be as forgiving.”

You nod, mildly concerned with how serious she is, agreeing to it nonetheless. “I understand.”

She finally lets you leave and deliver the news to Madi, who is beyond excited to be trained by both of you.

And you do exactly what Clarke wanted, pushing Madi past her limits, exposing to every possible scenario you can imagine, preparing her for absolutely anything that would come her way.

Unfortunately, none of you could have predicted what would happen two years later. None of you were ready for the mystery ship to enter the sky and land in the valley, your valley, your home.

You sit in the small house you’ve prepared for you and Bellamy, looking at the stars through the window in the ceiling, lifting the radio to your lips to continue telling him the events of the day. “It’s been 1,923 since Praimfaya. Just over 5 years. I spend most days with my eyes turned towards the sky, looking for you, waiting for you to come back. It’s been three months since it was safe for you to return and everyday that passes without you here is worse than the one before. I got through the five years without you because I knew that when day 1,825 rolled around, I’d get to see you again. Instead, I spend every day waiting for you, disappointed when you don't come.”

You feel tears well up in your eyes, and you reach for the book that lays on the bed near you, brought with you each time you come into this house to talk to him. You flip the cover open and look down at the note, the tears falling down your face as you read through his words, now memorized at this point. “I’m reaching out for you, Bellamy. I need you to come home, because I don't want to do this without you anymore. Madi and Clarke have each other, and I know I have them too, but I need you. Just, please come back to me.”

You drop the radio and cry harder, quiet sobs slipping from you as you feel the pain that has never stopped. Just as fresh and painful as it was in the beginning, now mixed with the hope you’ve started to lose when he didn't show up three months ago. You choke back another sob, but you freeze in place when you hear a sound nearby, somewhere inside of the small house. Your voice wavers when you call out, “Hello?”

You stare at the doorway to the bedroom, waiting, and seconds later a small figure appears in the doorway, looking sheepish and worried. “Hi ani.”

You try to smile at her, quickly wiping away the tears from your face, not wanting her to see you cry. “Hey, Madi. what are you doing here?”

“What’s wrong?”

You shake your head. “Nothing.”

Unconvinced, she steps into the room, plopping down onto the bed beside you, putting her arm around you to comfort you. The gesture chokes you up and she whispers, “Are you talking to Bellamy?”

“Yes.”

“And he doesn't answer?”

“No.”

“Do you think he can hear you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Clarke told me that you’ve called him everyday since Praimfaya.” You look down at her in surprise, unaware that she knew. Your radio calls to Bellamy aren't necessarily a secret, but you always have them by yourself, and you usually do them late at night, while Madi and Clarke sleep. You don't know why; maybe it’s for the privacy, maybe because you’re worried they’ll judge you for talking to a man who hasn't answered once in five years. Whatever the reason, it hasn't come up since Madi joined your family, and you always assumed she didn't know. “If he could hear you, I think he’d answer you.”

“Maybe. A lot of things change in five years.” It hurts your heart to say it, but the reality of it is true. If Bellamy thinks you’re dead, he’s probably mourned you and moved on. The thought tears you up inside, but there’s nothing you can do about it down here.

“Clarke’s told me how much he loves you.”

You watch her closely, an earnest, sincere expression on her face. “When did she tell you that? Because I don't remember any of her stories saying anything other than ‘Bellamy and ani are dating’.”

“I used to see you sneaking out here by yourself every night and I asked her what you were doing. She told me that you call Bellamy every night and talk to him, because he is your soulmate and you both love each other very much. She said Bellamy loved you as soon as he got to the ground, and he used to be mean to you to hide it. She also told me that you loved him as soon as you met him, you just didn't realize it at first.”

You laugh a little. “Clarke said a lot, huh?”

“Please don't be upset with her. She only told me because I wouldn't stop asking, and she told me not to ask you about it because your heart is still healing, and talking about it hurts you.” She looks up at you, face etched with concern. “I’ve been worried about you. You’ve been so sad lately.”

You’re silent, wondering if you should let Madi into this part of your life, into the hidden parts of your heart where your love for Bellamy lives. But then you look at her, at the worry in her face, the sincerity of her comfort, and you decide this hidden side of you shouldn't be hidden anymore. Because Clarke and Madi are your family. They love you, unconditionally, and would never judge you for calling Bellamy. “I just miss him, Madi. They were supposed to come back a few months ago, and I’m worried that they’ll never come back.”

“I know Skairipa is going to get the bunker open, and I know Bellamy is going to get everyone back down again. He’s coming back for you, I just know it.”

You wrap your arm around her and drop your cheek onto her head, drawing in the comfort she’s offering you. “Thank you, Madi.”

The two of you sit on the bed side by side for a while, spending most of the time reminiscing on your relationship with Bellamy, Madi now able to ask the questions she’s always wondered about. And when you finally fall asleep that night, you have a sense of peace you’ve lacked for a while, brought to you by a little girl who shines on everything around her like the sun.

As soon as both prisoners are dead, Clarke turns to you and tosses you your gun. You holster it and your knife as she runs over to Madi, checking on her. Once she’s sure she’s okay, Wanheda takes the lead. “We need to draw them away from here.”

“How?”

She thinks hard for a second, running through her options, before her face lights up. “Madi, do you still have that trap in that clearing across from the west ridgeline?”

“Yes.”

Clarke looks at you. “If you get a prisoner to that clearing and into the trap, the others will go looking for him. We can wait them out at the ridgeline with our rifles, and pick them off as they come.”

You nod. “You two go ahead and go that way, I'll take care of the rest and meet you there in a few.”

“Be safe.”

“You too.”

Madi looks like she wants to protest, but Clarke pulls her away before she can. You watch them leave, making sure they disappear from your sight before you take a deep breath and creep towards the village. You scale one of the trees on the perimeter, watching as the woman from before, the leader of the prisoners, sends them out in groups to search for you, Clarke, and Madi. You watch the groups peel off one by one, searching for the best one to trap, smiling when you see a group of two head into the woods, towards the direction of your trap.

You slink down the tree and sneak up behind the two men, both of them walking a considerable distance apart, making things easier for you. You eye them both, deciding which to kill now and which to lead into the trap, finally deciding the tall blonde will be better to trap, and the shorter brunette man will be easier to kill. You watch the blonde man pull ahead, leaving the brunette behind, half searching, half trudging through the woods, looking annoyed.

You sneak up behind the brunette man, pulling out your knife as you approach, and when you’re close enough to reach him, you jump onto his back, slam your left hand onto his mouth to quiet his scream, and plunge your knife into his neck with your right hand, killing him before he even realizes you’re on him. Then you jump off him, letting him slide to the ground. You sneak back into the trees, hidden from view, before you intentionally snap a branch, alerting the blonde to your presence. He turns around, looking around him frantically, his eyes eventually landing on the body of his dead partner. He runs over to him, checking him over, and you sneak ahead of the man, putting some distance between you, pointing yourself in the direction of the trap.

As soon as you see the man reach for his radio to call for help, you call out, “I wouldn't.”

He looks up at you in surprise, aiming his gun your way, and you take off running before he can take a shot, bobbing and weaving through the woods as the man runs after you, trying to kill you. He follows you, completely unaware of the trap you’re leading him into, and as soon as you break free from the trees and into the clearing, you jump over the tripwire, hidden perfectly by Madi. The blonde man, however, does not follow suit, and seconds later you hear the trap trigger and the man cry out in pain. You turn around, looking at the metal spikes that have impaled him, and you get a flash of a memory, Diggs, impaled by spikes on a search for Octavia. You ignore the memory and run over to the man, disarming him quickly and tossing his gun away, so he can’t reach it. He looks at you, face contorted in pain, and begs, “Please, help me.”

“You threatened my family. There’s no help for you now.”

And then you turn and run off, weaving through the woods again, working your way up the ridge towards Clarke. As expected, the man cries out for help not long after you disappear into the trees, the cries following you your entire way up the ridge. A funny feeling passes over you on your way up, and you realize that the memory of Diggs is still pulling at you, begging to be remembered. You pause in shock when you realize why. Now, you’re the Grounder. You killed a man stealthily in the woods after hiding in the trees, you lead the second into a trap, and now you’re going to watch from afar, just like Lincoln did. It’s a surreal realization, one that leaves you feeling strange, but you don't have time to wonder why, not now.

Instead, you take the last few steps out of the woods and onto the ridge, sneaking your way over to Clarke and Madi to take your place beside them, both of them looking your way as you set up your rifle. “And so it begins.”

next chapter

#the 100 #the 100 rewrite #bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake fanfiction

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artoutforblood · 3 years

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I’m rereading Cirque du Freak again and it reminded me of an old oc of mine and their adopted dad ;-;

yes i know theres another character named Arrow don’t @ me

TW: child molestation (not by gavnur) and child assault and spoilers for CdF

Arrow Purl (born Abel Arrowood) is Gavnur Purl’s adopted kid. He rescued and made them half-vampire when they were 8 years old when he found them half-dead, in the middle of being murdered and molested by their attacker after they had been abandoned by their birth parents in a nearby shopping mall.

Although he had initial doubts, if he were to save them, he had to make them half vampire so they could survive. Even knowing what could eventually happen to them in the future as a half-vampire, he couldn’t leave them to bleed out from their wounds with their last memories being violated.

Even with the excelerated healing abilities, it still took them a week or more to heal from the fatal wounds with constant supervision from Gavnur. During the process, their brown hair turned fair silver, with some locks retaining their original color, and their brown eyes got a silver sheen to them. Gavnur chalks this up to the strain of the recovery and the transformation into half vampire, at least at first.

Eventually, they awaken in a daze, half crazed from the memories of their assault, and Gavnur quickly hypnotizes them into forgetting the event entirely and then lulling them back to sleep. When they wake next, they only remember being lured into the alley where he found them and nothing afterwards. The attack left them with several scars on their torso and the slash across their eye and neck, and they know they were attacked and was hurt terribly and Gavnur had to make them half vampire so they could survive because he told them, but isn’t aware of the specifics.

Though they’re initially wary of Gavnur due to previous neglect from their parents, they are still grateful to him for saving their life and taking them in. Gavnur Daddy-Issues Purl immediately takes to them and starts raising them as his own.

Because of Arrow being missing instead of dead, and only being noticed that their gone by their past school teacher as their parents gave no missing persons reports, Gavnur cuts their hair, hides their gender, and gives them the new name Arrow and his last name, passing them as his nephew and adopted son from his deceased sister.

Arrow is cautious and easily anxious and scared, and sticks to Gavnur like glue in most situations, often grabbing an article of clothing in reach or his hand. That being said, as they get a little older, they become curious and starts asking more questions about becoming a vampire and everything that comes with it. Most adults are fond of them because they are polite, kind, and have remarkable good behavior. Around Gavnur, they’re more outgoing, witty, and can be a troublemaker.

Within a year, Arrow grows to love Gavnur dearly and begins calling him their Daddy. Arrow comes to hold him in high esteem and puts his livelihood over their own, much to his chagrin as the opposite is also true on his side. He spoils them with love to the point they can climb up in his lap at any point, even during situations where this could be considered impolite, and he’d let them. The relationship becomes a bit codependent as a result.

As time goes on, Arrow starts showing signs of having premonitions, put into three categories: Sense (most common), Know (as in knowing what a person has or plans), and See (least common and only happens when in direct contact with an object or person. They see the future as it will happen.) A future Seen is impossible to change, unlike a future Sensed. Younger Arrow often can’t put these events into words well, and sometimes forgets that it happens at all. They become more powerful and easier to remember and channel as they get older.

Theres a lot of stuff that happens, but I don’t feel like writing it all down. They do meet Larten before the events of CdF, and then later when Darren and Larten are with the Cirque. They have a horrible, foreboding feeling that something terrible will happen dealing with the four of them, but still makes fast friends with Darren and gains Larten’s affection. Darren see’s echoes of Annie in them and gets attached.

It takes Arrow thirty years to hop up in age, a year before the events of Vampire Mountain, where they look about 17-18. This makes them a late bloomer if I remember half vampire aging correctly. Darren is utterly shocked when they meet up again in Vampire Mountain, only for Arrow to tease him and remind him that they have always been much older than him.

The two’s relationship is that of close siblings. Before, Darren saw himself as the big brother, but that’s soundly flipped on its head and Arrow takes the mantle from him. Arrow is still somewhat childish and the years of traveling with Gavnur has made them more sure of themself, optimistic and cheerful, and gave them a sense of humor, but now that their body and mind has matured, they’re more responsible and is better able to understand adult conversations.

They elect themself to take the Trials first, to give Darren time to train, and takes it upon themself to watch over him and considers his safety very carefully.

Then, well, Gavnur died, and it all changed. Arrow decides that all vamaneze deserve to die, and after Darren becomes a prince, they fall into depression and despair. Never leaving their room, never speaking, never moving, wanting nothing more than to starve to death and see their father again.

Larten, Darren, and Harkat come to visit and try to get them to eat something or drink blood, but nothing works. Until, Larten visits and puts a letter Gavner wrote on their bedside table. When he leaves, they read it, and realize it was written for them. Leading up to the event of his death, Arrow had been sensing something about to happen, and having dreams about him dying. They had been bringing it up often and anxiously, and the night before his death, they even crawled into his hammock like they did as a kid and begged him to never leave them.

This letter was to tell them that he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep that promise, but that no matter what happened, he wanted them to live a full life knowing that he loved them, and that he wanted them to have plenty of stories to tell when they met again in Paradise.

This was enough for them to respond to Darren when he came to see them next, and the two ended up bawling on the floor. Darren because he felt guilty about Gavnur’s death, and Arrow mourning him and reassuring him it wasn’t his fault. They had Seen that future, and knew it was unchangeable. Larten comes to find them there later, with Arrow holding Darren as Gavnur had held them, and he comes to sit beside them. As Arrow grabs his cuff, he sheds a few tears for the boy he had once raised.

After this, Arrow becomes cynical, pragmatic, easily annoyed and angered, and devotedly loyal to Darren and Larten as they are the only family they have left, and they refuse to let them die. Any and all threats to them and their safety is met with severe and unprejudiced hostility. However, they become apathetic and uncaring about their own well-being, throwing themself into training and swordplay to a point that Larten has to step in.

When Tiny comes telling of the prophecy, there is an immediate air of two opposing magnets coming near to each other. The earth shakes under their feet, the clouds clash and throw lightning that day, the air itself tastes of ozone and fire. The two recognize each other as dangerous and powerful enemies. Tiny doesn’t try to stop them from joining their crew, as he himself admits that he doesn’t even understand what they are enough to say no.

When Vancha joins the band, the two do not hit off at the beginning. They’re disgusted with his bad hygiene and he thinks theyre a bit of a stick up the ass because of it. But, eventually, the two’s bickering becomes a thing of the past, replaced by affectionate jokes that are only sometimes at each other’s expense. Vancha bathing doesn’t hurt either.

Insert more stuff that I don’t want to type right now.

But. If you read CdF, you know what happens. And Arrow is left as a shell hellbent on killing all vampaneze, and initially fights tooth and nail against Evana’s plan to bear a half-vampire and half-vampaneze child, declaring: “IT WON’T BRING THEM BACK!”

When Vancha grabs their arm and says, “What’s more important? Killing vampaneze, or our survival?” And in that moment, they saw their own, unchangeable future.

They get older. They get older. They get older. And the world moves, and moves, and moves, and but they do not. Every second is an empty eternity, a lonely, torturous and slow death until they are berried where they stand, and the world is thrown into darkness and silence.

They give no more resistance, and returns to Vampire Mountain. There, they take a vial and ask Madam Octa to bite the thin film over it and fill it with enough venom to kill a vampire.

They sit in one of the caves open to the outside, knowing Vancha will come to find them. When he does, they talk about the future, and they tell him that he has his responsibilities to tend to as the father of the future child. He asks what the vial is for, and they tell him its a sleeping potion, and that they hadn’t been sleeping well for a long time.

They make a small incision along a vein and asks him to stay while they fall asleep, because they’re scared of falling asleep alone.

“When the morning comes, I’ll be able to breathe again.”

He starts to ask what they mean, but they put the venom in their mouth before putting their lips to the cut and shooting the venom into their blood.

The world is black and silent.

#bonesart #oc #cirque du freak #gavner purl #hm. i wonder what part of my childhood made me the terrible angst goblin i am today. hm.#boneswrites #i guess? maybe? i wrote a lot #the man can't cut his own hair right what makes you think he'd be able to cut their hair right. and arrow just keeps it #looks at gavnur then at my oc tobi and back. um. wait.

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