#<- FUCK YOU this is how i'm tagging SAS

[j-rye]

[v88sy]

Every time I venture into the Bucktommy ao3 tags without filters, for curiosity and to check numbers, I remember why I have my filters so strict.

[nyxdimandis]

with the full disclaimer that i might be missing some context or significant piece of information & am fully welcoming anyone to inform me, i feel like. it really just doesn't seem like a huge deal that one of the "poison" storyboard artists is into "dark" kink. like this really feels like a non-issue to me

[distant-screaming]

I know I say this as a joke a lot but sometimes I wish the purge was like a real thing. 'oh but the implications the destruction -' I need to legally kill certain people.

[written-in-flowers]

The Places Between Us: The Dragon Prince (OT8 x Fem!Reader)

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x Fem!Reader | Side pairings: Hongjoong x Fem!Reader, Ateez x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 12k

Genre: Smut, Angst, Slight fluff | AU: fantasy!au

Summary: Being snatched up by Prince Yunho, YN is whisked away to the Burning Valley. There, she learns the exact purpose of his harem of wives and what he's expecting from her.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

Overall Tags: dub-con, mind control, enslavement, kidnapping, forced breeding, monster fucking, sex work, mentions/implications of abuse, mentions/implications of SA, stockholm syndrome, public sex, exhibitionism, humiliation, degradation, breeding kink, bigdick!Seonghwa, bigdick!Yunho, DoubleDick!Yunh, face fucking, throat fucking, undead sex, sex w/ undead, belly bulge, anal sex, anal fingering, vaginal sex, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, squirting/vaginal ejaculation, slight size kink (height wise), overstimulation, facials, cum swallowing, choking, dom!ateez, sub!reader, tit fucking, sex toys, bondage, multiple partners, threesome, orc!jongho, naga!seonghwa, demon!hongjoong, dragon!yunho, undead!mingi, goblin!yeosang, lycan!san, lycan!wooyoung.

Taglist: @binniesbabe @stay-tiny-things @oiminho @babymbbatinygirl @sopematesxx @pirana10 @juicyjaxxy @corgilover20 (If you'd like to be added, put it in the replies below)

Part 1: The Naga King < | > Part 3: The Undead Soldier

****

The morning sun broke through the clouds and heated your frozen body as you flew past it. You saw the mainland getting closer, a mountain range shrouded by smoky clouds. The scent of sulfur sharply pinched your nose and made you cough when you flew past the barrier between rocky cliffs and volcanic mountains. The smoke and smog from the volcanoes blotted out the bright sun, creating its own suffocating heat that filled your throat in every breath. It was hot. Far too hot. The dragonite soldier carried you a safe distance from the ground, but gushes of heat beat on your naked body. 

Soon, you saw black stone buildings nestled in the center of the volcanic valley. They led up to a castle that was built into the mountains surrounding it. Statues of dragons shot out from underneath windows, perched on gates, sliding along staircase railings, and outstretching their wings on the tall towers going into the sky. The soldier finally landed down on an open balcony on the side of the mountain where more soldiers stood at attention. Where you expected to see Yunho, you instead saw a tall female Dragonite in the same black armor as the rest with wings resting high behind her. She had dark brown scales going up her body, with only her underbelly and face being untouched. Amber eyes stared at you indifferently, scanning over you. 

“Asher,” the woman said in a cool voice, “Why is she still naked?”

“I had to get her quickly, Commander,” the soldier replied anxiously. “The distraction only took King Seonghwa a little bit outside his room, and my window was closing.”

“Hm,” the Commander said, “Understandable, I suppose. I’ll take her from here, soldier. Back to your post.”

“Yes, Commander.” 

The Dragonite stared you up and down, then began circling as she inspected you. “I will say this is most irregular. Lord Kim mentioned a priest, not a priestess. If we had known the gift was a woman, we would have made different accommodations.” 

“I'm not a priestess,” you told her, “I'm YN.”

It seemed if you kept pretending to be Lord Kim's “gift” his allies didn't immediately think of murdering you. Your curse already made it nearly impossible to resist their advances. What was it Seonghwa had said? Something about fighting it making it worse? You didn't see how that helped since it will take over anyway. As much as you hated it, you then added:

“Lord Kim hopes Prince Yunho is satisfied with me.”

“He must be if he had you whisked away in the dead of night. He's likely worried King Seonghwa would keep you for himself. Don't worry, my lady, Yunho will treat you well. You must be tired,” she said, guiding you away from the balcony railing and back inside. “I imagine King Seonghwa’s appetite could not be satisfied with only one round. Prince Yunho mentioned you may be injured?”

“I was. Seonghwa gave me some kind of healing balm that took care of it a little.”

“Good, at least the serpent had some sense of tenderness.” She led you down a rocky corridor lit by torches. “I’m Atala,” she said, “Commander of Prince Yunho’s personal guard and Keeper of his breeders. I’ll be looking after you when His Grace isn’t around to tend to you himself.”

“Are we going to Yunho?” you asked. 

“No, I’m taking you to the harem,” she said, “Where you’ll be staying with the other breeders.”

“Wait, ‘breeders’? What do you mean by that?”

“Prince Yunho's wives."

The word twisted your stomach. She guided you into a room at the end of the hall. Wide with a high ceiling, the large window gave a view of the valley below. The red-orange sky looked more appealing down below than from the clouds. Stone buildings went along the top of the hills and spilled down into the valley. A multitude of different Dragonites moved about in various colors, their wings lifting them off the ground. Hongjoong used to tell you about the Dragonites in the southern valleys. He said the best blacksmiths came from here. Masters of metal and jewels, they were miners, jewelers, inventors and expert warriors. He'd once brought you a metal, musical jewelry box. You grinned softly remembering the little gold dragon that circled the inside. The lullaby reminded you of Hongjoong. 

 "Little star, little star, oh how far you are."

 His clear, high voice brought comfort in this unfamiliar place. You took a look around the room. Tall planters of fresh fruit and vegetables went up the sides of the window, getting their light from the skylight above.  

Their water came from a waterfall that led into a wide, shallow pool in the middle. Bedrooms lined the circular room, giving the impression of a beehive rather than a room. No staircases. Why? Yunho could fly.  Yunho provided the harem girls with various instruments, a book nook, and a painting corner. It reminded you of the main room back in The Rooster’s Nest, where the girls entertained the incoming clients. 

“Girls,” Atala called out, her voice echoing in the room, “Come on out. We have a new wife."

New wife?

Out of a nearby room came four women. The tallest stood out first: an elven maiden with long lavender hair tied in a long plait stood at the forefront, arms crossed. The smallest had glittery pink wings that fluttered rapidly behind her as she landed beside the elf. A werecat of orange and white stood proudly upright, her golden eyes staying right on you. Next to her came a dragonite, her scales a rich azure streaked by molten gold and long claws a black as onyxes. All of them wore variations of the same muslin fabric, covering their feminine parts but still tantalizing. No doubt Prince Yunho wanted there to be some cohesion amongst his concubines. You wondered if you'd be given clothes to regain some dignity. 

“Oh my!” the fairy gasped, her voice high-pitched, “She’s naked!”

“King Seonghwa doesn’t dress his slaves,” said the dragonite. She picked up a quilt from a nearby armchair and placed it around you. “There, that’s better. At least until you get clothes,” Golden eyes blinked at you warmly, “I’m Celeste.”

“I’m YN.”

“I’m Delly,” the fairy smiled, batting her wings. When you looked down, you noticed the small pregnant belly poking through the dress. 

“I’m Fauna,” the werecat bowed her head. Her cropped top didn't hide her swelling stomach, which she touched absentmindedly as she spoke.

“And I’m Luna,” the elf introduced herself. Not as prominent as Delly or Fauna, you did notice the heaviness of her breasts and a slight curved belly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, YN. His Grace told us we’d be having a new sister soon, but…I didn’t think you'd be human.”

 "Or female," added Celeste.

“It’s certainly a surprise,” agreed Fauna. “I thought he’d been crazy enough to kidnap a Naga maiden. You know, just to rub it in Seonghwa’s face.”

“No, Yunho isn’t that reckless,” said Celeste. Like her ‘sisters’, Celeste also seemed to be carrying a child. Her belly was further along, and she waddled when she walked. “We may not be on good terms with the Naga, but he wouldn’t try to start a war with them. Not during times like this, anyways.”

"He still stole a gift meant for Seonghwa," Fauna said. "If that doesn't piss off Kim or Seonghwa, I’ll be surprised.”

“Come, YN,” Delly took your hand, guiding you to a table nearby. “You must be really hungry. I know I was when they brought me here. Fauna told me I was a stick with wings when I came,” she giggled, pouring fresh milk from a pitcher and handing it to you. “But don’t worry, Yunho only gives us the best and freshest food. You’ll be plump in no time! Especially if you get pregnant.”

You nearly spat out the milk. “I’m sorry?” You coughed, harshness deep in your throat. 

“That’s the whole reason he took you, honey,” Fauna said. “We’re his breeders, if you couldn't tell,” she patted her stomach. 

What would a gift say to that? "I'm not his to get pregnant. Lord Kim wouldn't like that."

 "Sweet child, " Luna sighed, "You're not going back to Kim. You are Yunho's gift; you wouldn’t take back a gift.” 

“I wasn’t his ‘gift’. I was Seonghwa’s. He had someone kidnap me,” you replied a bit defensively. You had been hours away from losing your curse, and then Yunho’s lapdog sweeps you away. “I don’t think Lord Kim is going to like that.”

‘No. No, I don’t.’ 

“There won’t be much he could do about it once you’re pregnant,” she shrugged. “Once you have a Dragonite inside you, you have to stay here.”

“Why? So he can take my baby?”

“Because then you’ll die.” When you sat frozen, she explained, “It’d be impossible for you to live in conditions outside the valley. Trust me, you don’t want to know what happens when a pregnant woman tries escaping on her own.”

“That's…” As if the threat of losing your sanity was not enough, the possibility of being pregnant in that state worried you more. “No way. I’m not getting pregnant.”

“I’m afraid you have no say in the matter,” she responded sadly. 

Delly passed you a tray of fresh fruits, but you couldn’t find the appetite. “The Prince’s wife can’t produce heirs for him,” Celeste told you, taking a seat at the table. “Every hatchling she’s managed to carry has come out sickly, deformed or dead. Most of the time, the seed doesn’t even take root inside her.”

“It’s all the inbreeding they do around here,” Fauna said with distaste. “It’s disgusting.”

“He has tried breeding with other dragonite women, but hadn’t been very successful,” Celeste continued. “So, he resorted to finding women of other species to lay with. I was the first.” Her voice drew quieter as she said, “My parents told him I was fertile and would give him many children.”

“Have you?”

“I have,” she nodded, a small smile on her face. “Three so far: Ophelia, Hermes, and Astor. They aren’t here though. Yunho takes the offspring to the main palace where he raises them himself. I’m allowed to see them from time to time, but Yunho believes they’ll grow stronger being raised away from me.” She nervously looked at her swollen belly. “He'll take this one too. I'm sure of it.”

“That’s awful,” you frowned. “You should be allowed to see your own kid whenever you want. You pushed her out, not him.” 

She grinned, “Try telling him that.”

“His men raided my village,” Fauna said. “I was married so they assumed I must be fertile. It's the same with Delly and Luna. Were trophies for him to tote around; it's only a plus that we can have kids. I've given him a litter. Oh yeah, six kittens,” she said to your wide eyes, “Four boys and two girls. They're all grown now, so they come to visit whenever they want.”

“I've given him two,” Luna smiled. “Ivory is six and Onyx is four. They're true daughters of the Moon Goddess. You'll love them when you meet them.”

“This is my first one!” Delly beamed, “And the physician says it'll be a strong, healthy dragon-fairy baby. I can't wait,” she said. “I always wanted to be a mother. It's a real blessing.”

“That's lovely but also…” you didn't want to say it out loud. 

“Weird?” Fauna finished for you. “Wrong? Cruel to force pregnancy on us?”

“Yeah…”

“It was either this or a slave pit,” she shrugged. “I don't know if you've seen the pits around here, but trust me, this is preferrable.”

“But it sounds like he has more than enough kids from you. Shouldn't he give you guys a break?” 

Fauna and Delly snorted with laughter, and Luna looked amused. Celeste smirked, “I wouldn’t recommend asking him that when you see him tonight. "

“He’s very gentle,” Delly assured you. “I’m way smaller than him, so he’s always extra careful when he’s with me. I really do enjoy it when he breeds me, even if I'm already pregnant.”

“He’s actually a good lover,” Luna said, “So it isn’t all bad.” 

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“Yes,” she replied. “Alright, so you’re breeding stock for a dragon prince and you’re locked here for the time being, but at least he’s a good looking prince who knows how to use his cock.”

“That’s still not a reason to be okay with all of this,” you pointed out. “You’re slaves. That doesn’t bother you?”

“It used to, but not anymore. There are worse fates than being a prince’s slave.”

This was how they comforted themselves. Seeing these small benefits was how they lived with themselves. Your head couldn’t wrap around the concept. Having lived your own way your entire life, you can’t imagine it being any other way. Lord Kim, whoever he is, would be no different than Seonghwa or Yunho. Munching on a strawberry, you could feel the rock at your back and the hard place pressing your front. Lord Kim was your only way of lifting the curse, yet to be in his grasp meant you’d be his slave. You doubted without the runestone he’d let you go. The freedom you once cherished would be stripped away until you become complicit like the women before you.

Escape ideas came to you, but each one sounded foolish. You considered claiming infertility, but that’d likely lead to your death. Once again, you’d do what you hated. 

“Yeah, I don’t think this pregnancy thing is going to work though,” you said cautiously. 

"Why not?"

 Standing from your chair, you turned around to show them the hand-and-heart mark. Their soft gasps told you how bad it looked. 

“Wow, then he must really plan on keeping you,” Luna said. You jumped at the cold fingers touching the heated brand. “He only used this in the old days, I heard, during the war.”

“I heard he used to use it on people who deserved it though,” Fauna said. “What did you do?”

“A witch put it on me.”

“And he hasn't removed it?”

“I haven’t seen him yet.”

You told them about Haeyoung, Jin’s boat and getting shipwrecked. Before Yunho’s soldier kidnapped you, you were meant to go somewhere else with Lord Kim. Though, you doubted he would remove the curse. Not without something to trade in return. 

“Kim isn't an evil man like the humans make him out to be,” Fauna told you when you finished. “The southerners only speak badly about him because we won the war. I personally don't see why they're so upset about it still. It was so long ago. Most of us weren't even thought of when it happened.”

“Old wounds are hard to close,” Luna told her. “Kim takes good care of things that are his. I'm sure once he arrives, he'll remove the brand from you. Although, I doubt he would let you go. You're far too pretty.”

“He's not a bad guy,” Delly told you sincerely. “He will treat you well.”

They made you sound like a pet. They have all mentioned him coming for you. You belonged to him, and nobody else. The idea of being a demon lord's plaything sent shivers down your spine. Celeste lifted you up into a bedroom above where she'd laid out clothes.

“This will look lovely on you,” Celeste said as she pulled out a long muslin skirt and short top from a closet. “Just because he'll be lying with you later doesn’t mean you have to be naked the whole time.”

“The best laid plans, huh?”

The voice sounded when Celeste left you to dress. Holding the top, you said, “Psh, tell me about it.”

“I really didn't intend for this to happen, YN. You were supposed to spend the night with Seonghwa, and then we'd go home. Yunho kidnapping you was not in my plans.”

“And getting cursed wasn't in mine. I'm supposed to be on Jin’s boat on my way to that little town near the mountains.”

“It’s not ideal, but at least you won’t get pregnant.”

“I don’t think Yunho cares about that.”

“You have no idea how much of a deal it is to him. The guy has like eleven kids and is still making more. That brand of yours will keep you from getting pregnant. It’s hard to have a pregnant sex slave.”

“Which is what you plan to have me be, I bet.”

“I’d never enslave you. If anything, I’m the enslaved one,” the voice chuckled. “Just sit tight, okay? I’ll be there soon.”

“You say that like I have some kind of choice.”

“It’s just best if you wait for me there, okay? I don’t need you running off into that valley and getting lost.” 

“And what? Wait for you to turn me into a sex toy?”

“But I thought you were already my pretty toy?” 

You were about to respond when someone knocked on the door. 

“YN? Are you almost done? Do you need help wrapping it up?” Delly asked from behind the door. 

You knew the voice disappeared. It left an empty feeling in your head. You supposed your old plan was out, and this new plan was in. Yet, you couldn't stop the nagging feeling things would go wrong again. The possibilities were endless: Yunho does get you pregnant and you're trapped with him; Lord Kim somehow dies and you have no way of lifting the curse. You needed a Plan B. 

As you spent the day around the wives, you couldn’t stop the incoming images filling your head. Once this curse was complete, you’d lose everything. Your friends, your home and your freedom. You’d lose Hongjoong, who’d likely never learn what happened to you. Would he move on to someone else? Would he find another woman to comfort him during his travels around the world? You pictured him in the arms of some nameless, faceless woman and bit back tears. The gem around your neck suddenly felt heavier on your chest. Sitting by the window, looking out at the valley, you thought about your only love. The only man you’re certain you love, who took your heart and didn’t give it back. He became your home. In his presence, you found safety and comfort. Nobody treated you how Hongjoong did. It wasn’t about the presents or the sex. It was about how he made you feel. 

You’ll never feel it again. 

“His Grace is on his way,” Atala announced after supper, a light spread of fruits, vegetables and meat, “It’s time to get YN ready for her first bedding.”

“You make it sound like it’s a special event,” you said, downing the last bites of chicken with milk. “He’s just fucking me.” Hongjoong never made such a spectacle of sex. He simply did it. You’d grown to hate these men and their ego-boosting. “It’s not a big deal.” 

“Yeah, but it’s your first time,” Fauna finished off her steak, licking the juices from her lips. “It’s special.”

“And if you get pregnant on the first try, you’re extra special,” Delly said. 

“I don’t want to be pregnant,” you remarked. “I want to get out of here. I want to get rid of this mark and get my freedom back. I want to get out of this sweltering, humid place and go back home.” 

You wanted Hongjoong. You ached for him. 

“Those are things only Lord Kim could provide,” Luna said. “I understand your disappointment, YN. I truly do, but perhaps it’s better t-”

“-To accept my fate and be some dragon asshole’s mare?” You shot back. “To accept that this is all I’ll ever be to someone? Sorry, but that’s not me.”

“It will have to be,” Atala interrupted. “That is how things are on this side of the kingdom.”

“Well then maybe a war should happen,” you said. “Everyone talks about how Lord Kim was this big savior. What kind of savior allows slavery to continue?”

“It’s a part of the culture in the north,” she replied stiffly. “It’s so ingrained in our societies that it’d break down a lot of things if they ended. The South has their own forms of slavery; they just call it something else.” She stepped forward, standing at her full height with golden eyes peering down at you sternly. “You better start to learn your place around here before it’s beaten into you.”

“Because that’s how things work around here.”

“Yes, because that’s how things work around here,” she repeated with a curt nod. 

A scream stayed lodged in the base of your throat. 

‘There’s my fiery blossom.” 

“Anyway,” Atala turned from you to the other wives, “There is one other thing you ladies should know. While YN is entertaining The Prince, you girls will be entertaining General Song.”

The women giggled, hiding their blushing cheeks. “I didn't know he was coming,” said Luna. “I would've fixed myself up better.”

“Me too,” Delly agreed, running her fingers through her long golden tresses. “He's so handsome, even for an Undead. Not to mention his hands are little delightful devils.”

“I love a man that's good with his hands!” Celeste joked, earning laughs from the other women. 

“Who’s Mingi?” You asked, confused by the conversation. “Another slave owner?” 

“He’s the general of Lord Kim’s undead army,” Fauna answered a bit curtly. “Centuries ago, Kim created his own army by raising people he’d defeated in battle back from the dead. Mingi is his top general. He’s very close with Yunho, and he visits a lot.” She paused, “I wonder why he’s here. Do you think it has anything to do with Kim?”

“Maybe. Things are getting pretty heated between us and that new king. Yunho is upset about it and Mingi has been coming around a lot more lately. Yunho just had that negotiation with the Naga…Maybe it is connected somehow.”

“Uh-oh, here goes Celeste brooding again,” Fauna giggled. 

“Whatever the reason is for his visit,” Atala said, “It is your job to keep him busy while His Grace beds YN,” She turned to you, “Fix yourself up before he arrives. He’s taking you to his private bedding chamber.”

“He sleeps here then?” 

“No. It’s only a bedding chamber. He impregnates you there, then leaves to his own room.”

‘Of course he’d have some kind of chamber,” you rolled your eyes. 

‘I love the other lords like brothers, but I’ll admit they can be pretentious.”

“So pretentious,” you agreed under your breath. 

“Let’s get moving on,” Atala declared. “His Grace doesn’t like to be kept wait-”

The chamber door opened before she finished, and in walked Yunho. He wore a thin black robe, absent his armor, sword and crown this time. He appeared more relaxed in the presence of his precious breeders. His eyes glinted happily at the sight of them lounging near the window. You hated how he swaggered into the room, sweeping over his wives like precious pets. That wasn’t love. You knew love, and this was not it. 

“Ah, my lovelies,” he grinned, walking over to them. “How’re you all doing?” He kissed Celeste’s forehead first, “How was your day?”

“Better now that you’re here, Husband,” Delly smiled when he kissed her next. 

“So sweet,” he replied, kissing her again because he could. 

“We missed you,” Luna said in a low, seductive voice, pulling him down by the collar of his robe. She lightly pecked his lips, “Must you go with YN? Why don’t you stay with us?”

“Please, Husband,” Fauna joined in, purring as she gently butted his cheek. “You could have all of us tonight. I want you in me so bad, I’m aching for it.”

“Me too,” Luna pushed her tits together with her arms, accentuating them, “I miss you touching these.”

No doubt they played this up to please him. Any man, regardless of race, loved being fought over and desired. It disgusted you. 

“You know I would any other time,” he pouted, kissing her softly, “But it’s YN’s special night. I don’t want to ruin it for her. ”

You knew the moment Yunho sparked any sort of stimulation, you’d dive deep into the curse’s effects. It’s glorious in the moment, but it wasn’t you doing it. It was the curse. You wished to be rid of it right then. If you could find a way out, you could get to Lord Kim, and he can help you remove it. You might not have the runestone, but you did have another part he’d want. You’d gladly give it up in exchange for your free will. 

“Is that so?” 

“Ooh!” Delly’s delighted squeal pulled you from your thoughts. You saw her suddenly giggling and kicking around as a bundle moved around underneath her dress. “Hey, hey! You just got here!” 

Your jaw dropped when she pulled out a hand from between her legs. Sickly pale with chipped black fingernails, the disembodied hand wriggled around like a bug in her grasp. “You know better than to start without the rest of you,” she scolded it playfully. When it waved its fingers, she shook her head, “No, not until Mingi gets here. Don’t you have more fun when your other hand is with us?” She gave one finger a soft kiss, which made the hand tremble, “I like having both of you.” 

“Then it’s a good thing I’m right here, huh?” 

He stood as tall as Yunho, but his stooped shoulders made him look shorter. Wearing tattered leather armor, you could see stretches of stiff, waxy skin underneath. You’d heard stories about the undead soldiers who served in the Crescent Mountains, but never saw one. This must be Mingi, and he was the exact image you had when you heard ‘undead zombie’. His eyes were milky white, barely any hue to them at all, and his lips looked cracked and dry. A large gash in his throat did nothing to hide the pink muscle that seemed to keep his head on his shoulders. When it moved, you realized it was a tentacle. 

“Hi,” Delly grinned, cheeks and ears getting pinker, “Looks like someone removed his stitches again.”

“Eh,” he shrugged, coming down to her level, “I may have loosened them a bit.” He nuzzled her nose, laughing with her, “I know how much you like it when they’re not attached.” 

At that, he lifted his wrist to his mouth, tearing at a black thread until the appendage came loose. Delly squealed again when both hands started crawling up her body. Mingi hardly noticed the others in the room as he laid down beside her, kissing her softly as the hands lifted her dress. 

“-I don't why would she want that when she has her husband right here?” Fauna asked him, kissing his neck. “You're all I think about once I get going.”

Her, Luna and Celeste managed to get him onto the couch bed with them, naked and surrounding him. She and Luna had taken up each side of Yunho, pecking and licking his neck and chest; Celeste, heavy with child, straddled his waist and rocked her hips back and forth. Watching them kiss and caress their master made your mark tingle again. You saw Yunho’s long body, a mixture of flesh and black scales, roll up into Celeste’s blue and gold one, clawed hands on her waist. Fauna’s rough tongue swatted at his hard nipples, giving them soft suckles that furthered his arousal; Luna left small hickies on his long neck, smirking when he shuddered. Delly’s soft moans soon joined, and you saw one of Mingi’s hands rubbing a finger over her clit as the other pushed two inside her. You took deep breaths, closing your eyes to fight back the curse, but the low moans coming through the room kept penetrating. 

“Don't fight it, angel. Let it happen naturally. Resistance only makes it worse.”

“Girls, why don’t you go entertain Mingi, hm?” Yunho suggested, though he didn’t stop them at all. “Let YN have me to herself.” 

None of them argued as they crawled over to Mingi. Each woman gave him a kiss before they started stripping off his armor and clothes. His undead form did not seem to bother any of them. In fact, you watched Celeste and Fauna feel up and down the cold, pale skin as they took turns kissing him. Luna went to Delly, who yelped when her sister-wife latched her lips onto a hard nipple. 

“Don’t hog the hands,” Luna said, taking the one from Delly’s clit to place on her own, “He has two for a reason.”

“I love his cock more,” said Fauna, who began pumping the long appendage below. “I could ride him all night and never get bored of it.” 

“And I love his tongue,” Celeste sighed, moaning when Mingi brought her tit into his mouth. “Can you do to me what you did that time? With your tentacle?” 

“Of course,” Mingi groaned, fondling the two women on top of him. “Anything for Yunho’s beautiful brides.” 

The four women moaned, getting lost in their lust as Yunho came over to you. “Come with me,” he said, arms going around your waist, “Let’s go somewhere private.” 

“You don’t want to do it here?” you gulped, half-expecting him to change his mind. 

“I like to keep it behind closed doors,” he said, “Unless you’d like to do it here? I was under the impression you’d hated being fucked in front of other people.”

“No, no, upstairs is good.” 

“Good.” 

He lifted you up from the floor, keeping you locked securely against him, and he flew up towards the ceiling. He brought you into the bedding chamber, which was a room of rich crimson and deep gold. Your mark continued tingling as various thoughts started racing through your mind. Yunho settled you down onto the floor, and brought your lips to his. The moment his lips touched yours you were a goner. Hot tongue sliding over into your mouth creates a deeper warmth inside. You ached to touch every part of him you could reach. His body, much larger than yours, was hard and smooth in your arms. 

“That's it. Relax and enjoy it. How many times does a girl get to fuck a Dragonite, hm?”

Not many. 

“You're so soft,” he moaned against your lips, feeling down your back to your ass. “I didn't know humans could be so plump and supple…I can't wait to see you swelling with my hatchling.”

You remembered the four wives’ various stages of pregnancy. “I’d be brainless by the time I ever have it,” you said, trying to talk him out of the idea. “I wouldn't be staying to help with it.”

“Who said you’d even be with them?” he said, humored by your concern. “They’d live with me and their wet nurse most of the time.” 

“Why?”

“A harem is no place for a child, and I can teach them things their mothers can’t.”

It sounded like a weak excuse to you. Yunho wanted the children to be raised away from their mother’s influence. If they’re away from them, then the children will be raised with Yunho’s ideology and not anyone else’s. He might think a mother’s presence weakens a person. You personally wouldn’t know. You’d never met your mother; you didn’t have a photo or scrap of evidence to prove she ever existed. Clients liked to joke that perhaps you simply came into being; a deity that turned human to enchant and seduce the men who worship her. In the Gold Rush orphanage, you were constantly reminded of their abandonment. While others lost their parents to war, sickness or poverty, you’d been dumped by yours like trash. To them, you were unwanted baggage. As Yunho continued kissing and caressing parts of you, you wondered if they thought of you. You tried not thinking of them. If they’d wanted you, they would’ve come back for you. 

“They should still at least see them,” you said. “It's not fair to the child to be-”

“-It's better they don't,” he nearly snapped. 

“Why? Because then they're raised to think like you? A person who only finds value in women if they can carry a child? A person who takes things that don't belong to him?”

“A strong person,” he answered, keeping you close though his grip tightened slightly. 

“Living without parents doesn't make someone strong. It makes them…” 

Lonely. Scared. You wanted to imagine how they might have reacted to your situation: a father stoutly defending his daughter and a mother determined to find a solution. Nobody offered to even accompany you on this journey or protect you from these monsters who wanted to enslave you. The one person who could do anything about it wasn't in a hurry to reach you, and the other was missing. Hongjoong wouldn't have let this happen. This sadness broke you from your desires, and you gently pushed him away. 

“Don't be sad, sweetling,” he said, immediately bringing you into his arms. “You'll get to see them sometimes, and more when they come of age. Fauna and Celeste’s children see them all the time now that they're grown up.” He kissed you again, then whispered, “Let's forget about that and focus on this instead.”

“It's not happening anyway. No way you're having someone else's baby. Give in and enjoy what he’s about to do to you. I know I would if I were you.” 

You timidly touched his shoulders, and his robe slide down to his elbows. An expanse of scales appeared darker in the dim candlelight, causing his human flesh to glow in contrast. He was beautiful, there was no doubt about that. You understood what Luna meant by having worse options than a good looking prince. But, as you ran light fingers over his budding nipples, knowing it aroused him, you couldn’t stop picturing the obvious. This man didn’t love you. Like with his rival, you’d be a slave meant only to give him children. He’d wait until you have it, then pass you off to somebody else. Lord Kim will keep you under the spell, and you'd lose everything. The thought twisted your gut painfully, making you nearly sick. You might not have been rich back home, but you had freedom of choice. This curse would remove that entirely. Haeyoung knew this, and took it from you. You wished you’d watched her swing from The Hanging Tree. 

But, you are not completely alone. The Dark Lord is likely looking for you, his Cursed. Perhaps Hongjoong will drop into town, see you're gone and start searching for you. You tried finding some comfort in that as Yunho kissed your neck. You untied the knot keeping his robe closed, and then slid off the only article separating you. You drank in his larger form, feeling down the less-defined muscles of his long body to his waist. 

“You can touch them,” he said in between kisses. “I want you to touch them”

“Them?”

You stared down to notice the biggest difference of all. Where most beings had only one penis, Yunho had two. One hanging in front of the other, both were considerably large but not like Seonghwa. You might need a bit more preparation, but it wouldn’t hurt too much. You also couldn’t help noticing the round lumps sticking out along the shaft. When you reached down to grab one, you realized they didn’t pinch or scratch you. Your pussy throbbed at the thoughts running through your mind. You circled one of the small buds, though did not apply any pressure. It was hard and didn’t budge at your touch. The veins glowed a hot orange like magma under a volcano floor, though it didn’t burn you. They pushed more blood through the long muscle, causing it to pulsate in your hand. You rocked back and forth on your feet from the tightness forming in your stomach. It rolled down to your center as you cupped the thick head for a delicate rub. 

“I take it you’ve never seen Dragonite dick before?” Yunho asked, laughing at your reaction. 

“No.”

“Have you ever had two before?”

“A few times.”

“Would you like me to use both?” he guided your hand over the bottom one, breathing in deep when your thumb grazed a bump close to the top. “We can try it tonight, and if you don’t like it, we can use one. I don’t need both to breed you.” 

You gulped thinking about it. You stared down at the dicks in your hand, which occasionally bumped the balls hanging underneath. How the hell did he walk so confidently with this bouncing in his pants? You might be a bit cocky too if you had a package like his. Your clit pulsed with anticipation. Something inside you screamed for both of them. It wanted every inch of them both deep in your holes. 

“It’s going to stretch you so nicely.” 

“No wonder the girls like fucking you so much,” you mused, seeing the top slowly raise up to his stomach. “I would too if I had a guy with two dicks in my bed every night.”

“It’s a perk, I’ll admit,” he said, idly teasing one of your nipples. “It’s hard to say ‘no’ to a man with two of them, hm?” 

“It is.” 

Stepping closer, you put the bottom tip to your clit; your other hand focused on stroking the top half. The head, dark and thick, easily spreads your lips to the clit hiding under the hood. The curse clearly worked its magic on you, making you wet enough for him to slide easily over you. Yunho watched you play with him breathlessly; not speaking or moving to stop you as you pulled him out to spread your wetness over both top and bottom. He groaned when you began doing it in turns for both sides. He knew the lumps must be gently pressing to your aching clit, dragging along it slowly whenever you pushed it further between your thighs. 

“Oh, I’m sorry!” you said as you accidentally squeezed too hard and pressed on the barbs. 

“No, no, that feels good,” he assured you, fondling your breasts and kissing you, “It feels so good. Keep going.” 

Since he insisted, you started concentrating on the sensitive bumps of his dick. You whined when he thrusted forward to your thighs and hands. He did this a few more times before you let it slide the bottom half between your thighs. The uniform rows of barbs grazed your swelling sex, though it was your soft thighs that aroused him. The fatty flesh squeezed around the thick muscle, and you clenched them each time his dick gave a particularly powerful touch. The most sensitive sides massaged the inner parts of them, with your pussy slickening his length. The one in your hand pulsed in time with the bottom, causing Yunho to move a bit faster. You drooled a bit over the tip, then used the saliva to wet him. This made the prince throw back his head, unable to stop himself from holding onto your ass to push faster. You felt his tip reach right through to the bottom curves, poking out each time he moved forward. Your faint whimpers joined his throaty moans, and everything became sensitive and aching. 

“I think I’m going to get very addicted to this,” he gave a deep chuckle, burying his face in your neck as he fucked your thighs. “The others aren’t as soft or smooth as you. Delly is too small. Fauna is furry. Luna is as tall as I am, and Celeste’s fangs and claws get in the way. They’re beautiful but, fuck, not like you.” He pressed his forehead to yours, hands gripping your back as he breathed heavily. “Nothing like you…”

“Then come enjoy how soft I am, Your Grace.” 

“That’s my girl. It’s no different than what you do at home. Well, I don’t have two dicks, but it’s still similar.” 

Yunho said nothing as he guided you over to the bed. You whined in frustration when his body split from yours, leaving your pussy throbbing for his touch. The mark seeped its heat back through your skin once again. Its magic started taking hold of you, and all you wanted was Yunho’s two dicks. Removing your clothes, Yunho gazed down at your nude form as he knelt beside you. The moment his fingers grazed near the top of your mound, you slowly started losing your grip. He felt around the top and sides of your sex, fingers lightly crossing over it in each move, but he never touched the middle. You hoped stroking his cocks might entice him to touch you further, yet he did not. He felt up your front to your chest, where he tenderly squeezed and rubbed them. Soft whimpers remained behind your lips as he felt their suppleness in his rough hand. 

“I bet these get fucked a lot, don’t they?” 

“They do.”

“And how about this pretty mouth?” He made you look up at him by the chin, thumb pressing on your lower lip. 

“It does,” you nodded. “Get on top and give it a try. I promise I can take it all.”

“If you took The Naga King’s dick, then you can take anything.” 

Mounting your lower chest, Yunho’s excitement grew as you slid the bottom cock in between your squashed breasts. His mouth fell open at the sight of his cock buried between them, his shaft pushing through and his tips reaching your lips. He reached down to roll and pinch your nipples for extra pleasure, loving how the hard peaks felt in his hands. The top half pushed directly to your mouth, the tip resting on your chin and pressing to your lower lip before you opened your mouth. The act alone had you grinding into the air. Unlike Seonghwa, Yunho’s precome tasted savory somehow, which only made it more delectable. You stuck out your tongue for him to slide over in his thrusting, occasionally wriggling it side to side to tease the throbbing head. His fingers on your nipples brought out small whines from the sparks igniting inside you. Your pussy’s clenching and unclenching almost gave a phantom sensation of a real dick inside you. You imagined it filling you to the hilt, a finger rolling around the pearl above while another teased your nipple. That combined with the constant teasing and his cocks in your mouth and tits left you quivering below. It was when Yunho pushed forward, sliding his cock further into your mouth that you felt tempted to touch yourself. The rows of bumps pushed your lips far apart, and his tip nearly touched your throat even just halfway inside. Simply laying there, letting this man use you had you writhing on the bed. 

“Stay still for me,” Yunho moaned, picking up the pace. 

He removed his top cock to fill your mouth with the bottom. His crotch completely in your face, he lifted your hands to keep you pinned to the headboard. The weight of his body, the thickness of his cocks suffocating you, you tried desperately to breathe through your nose. The heads continued pressing your throat whenever he changed them up, sometimes withdrawing to stick them between your breasts again before going back inside. Saliva and precum streamed from your lips after a while, the white substance leaking whenever he withdrew from you. But, this didn’t bother either of you. In fact, it became a lubricant that he spread over your tits and nipples to further tease you. The light tapping of both cocks on your face and chest brought back that pumping sensation. 

Yunho moved further down your body, and pushed your legs far apart. You took deep breaths, feeling his breath blow over your dripping sex and anticipating the first lick. Your hands went down into his hair, and your legs wrapped around his shoulders as you pushed his face right to your cunt. He had no objection, grabbing onto your thighs and growling at the juices smearing over his lips and chin. He started with slow, torturous licks around the hard bud, though gradually sped up when you started grinding into his face. Fingers curling into his dark hair, you found it hard to keep a grip on your sanity. The tip of his tongue massaged both sides of your clit in every flick, the muscle dipping underneath and licking rapidly until you trembled. You didn’t know much longer you’d last with his tongue threatening to slide past your entrance. 

“You’re trembling, darling,” he leered, proud to have such an early effect on you. “Don’t tell me you’re going to come already?”

“Ye-yes,” you whined, twisting away from him as he played on your growing sensitivity.

“You won’t at least wait for me to be inside?” He forced your hips to the bed, and wagged his tongue over you in light brushes. “Hm?”

“It feels too good!” You struggled against him, simultaneously pushing to his mouth and also withdrawing. 

“Better than Seonghwa?”

“Yes!”

“Better than anyone else?”

A sudden hesitation hit you. The faint memory of gentle hands roaming your body as petal lips caressed your skin came back even in that moment. A long forgotten dream that came back in whispers filled your mind. Seonghwa might have been good. Yunho might be better. Yet, neither matches up to Hongjoong, the man who'd wrapped himself around your heart. 

“Yes,” you still said, covering up the lie with a whimper. 

It didn’t take long for two fingers to push past your entrance and right to your g-spot. They curled deep inside, staying knuckle-deep as they wriggled against the spongy space at the end. You nearly caved to your pleasure, your body contorting to whichever way it guided you. You wanted to escape it, but also take in more. After a few pumps of two, Yunho added a third that nearly pushed you over. Nails digging into the silky sheets under you, your entire body shook as he kept pushing into your g-spot. He’d found it, and now he wouldn’t let it go. His tongue still working your clit, your moans became louder. You’re sure the people below might hear you now. 

“No, no, pet,” Yunho withdrew his fingers right as you reached the cusp of an orgasm. He gently rubbed your quivering thighs, kissing your stomach in soft pecks. “I promise cumming on my cocks is much better than my fingers. Lift your legs for me, so I can show you.”

The tight ball in your cunt controlled you and you raised your knees to your stomach. Yunho admired your exposed sex for a moment. He trailed his fingers down the slick lips to the anus below, then back upwards. In the position, he could see both holes asking-no, begging-him to be inside them. The Dragon Prince grabbed his dicks in one hand, languidly stroking them as he used two fingers to spread your lips. So wet. So pretty. Seeing the clenching sex made Yunho want you more and more. The foreign feeling of a female human in his bed aroused him to no end. He planned to enjoy you as much as possible before the night was over. When he tapped both of them onto your clit, your pussy flexed. He could tell your body wanted him, even if the curse clouded your mind and shattered your resistance. He groaned when he accidentally pushed the first tip inside, your tightness foreign and delightful to him. 

Both cocks wet with your juices, he first placed the bottom one into you. You tightly held onto the pillows, keeping yourself grounded as pleasure mounted higher. A pleasurable burn came from his girth stretching your sex; the barbs of his cock massaged your walls in each careful thrust, pushing you further apart. His top half continued grinding against your clit, which only stoked the fires more. You barely moved as he thrusted; you almost could not with his hands holding you so tightly. Head tilting back into the pillow, you absorbed every nerve rattled by his touches. The hesitancy you had before washed away into compliance and need. The climax he’d chased away came slowly crawling back, but something inside wanted you to hold it off. The idea of finishing around both lengths sounded too good to pass up. Your arms wrapped around your knees, you kept a tight grip on them as he changed his angle and speed. This pushed your orgasm further.

“You’re going to look so pretty full of my cum,” he growled, wings outstretched and twitching from pleasure. “I can’t wait to see it dripping from your hole. I can’t wait until…” he pushed faster, “Until it takes root and you’re mine.” He took your arms away, spreading your legs and laying on top of you. His lips captured yours easily, both of you moaning in a deep kiss. “Everyone will know it once you’re swollen and round with my hatchling. You’ll be so beautiful. Women everywhere will envy you…”

“Ugh, he never shuts up about that, does he?” 

“I need you to relax,” he said in your ear, petting your cheek, “It’ll hurt if you move around too much.”

You only nodded, unable to string a proper sentence together. Yunho grabbed the top cock making sure to keep the second tip in you, and pressed it to your entrance. You squeezed your eyes shut in anticipation. Gradually, Yunho’s tips went in and out inch-by-inch, slowly working you open to accept them together. By the time he reached a final thrust, burying them to the base, your mind became completely blank. He still gently rocked his hips into you, occasionally staying still to let you adjust. You thought this might hurt like it’d done with Seonghwa, but in that moment, it felt nothing but pleasurable. Far too pleasurable.

It was when Yunho pulled you on top that you truly lost control. Hands on his shoulders, you raised and lowered your hips on him. The angle they took hit right to your core, bulging your belly like before. You swore the man broke into your womb like this, and you only wanted more. Not even the slight sting of his claws breaking the skin of your breasts distracted you. Your nails dragged on tough scales that felt nothing, though you're sure his low growls came from pleasure rather than pain. The euphoric high you’d been chasing became your sole focus. 

“You really can’t get enough, can you?” Yunho chuckled when you shook your head. “Good,” he planted himself firmly under you and started charging upwards, “Because neither can I. Go on and cum for me, sweetheart. I want to feel you-ah yes, that’s my girl…atta girl, keep going…you’re doing so well.”

Your orgasm stilled you, keeping his dicks fully inside as you shook in place. You needed to feel everything all at once, and it was overwhelming. Yunho kept pushing, enjoying the reaction that he caused. He knew this one orgasm would not satisfy either of you. The mark branded into your back could keep you going for ages if he so wished. None of his other wives could last as long, and he’d take full advantage of that with you. 

Sitting up, he kept you cradled in his lap while you held onto his shoulders. Yunho had no problem simply lifting you up and down on him like a toy. Your sex squeezed him so tightly, accepting him fully and throbbing for more. When you laid down, legs on either side of him, he easily pulled you backward and forward. This new angle created stars and explosions behind your eyelids. You let him see your breasts bounce from the force of his hips while you gripped his bony, scaled legs. The fingers teasing your clit in unison nearly created another climax.

“Your pussy is taking me so well,” he groaned, seeing your hole stretch around him. “I’m going to enjoy fucking these holes every day.”

“God, yes!” you cried, fighting off the sensitive nerves his teasing pinched. “Yes, please fuck me every day! I want it all the time!”

“Good…very, very good…”

He rolled you onto the side, putting one ankle on his shoulder as he started working on his own ending. The sheets beside you bundled in your hands, being held close to your chest as you became overpowered by pleasure. Yunho watched you nearly scream your second climax into them in time with his own. His cocks both twitched and pulsed deep within you, not wanting to waste a single drop. Both of you could feel him filling you, and even then it wasn’t enough. Taking deep breaths, you saw him look down to where his cum oozed from your sex. It came in small globs, which he pushed back in with both his heads to keep them from leaving you. The curse, as expected, did not subside as any normal orgasm might.

“Fuck me again,” you whined, rolling onto your front and reaching for one of his cocks. “Please, I need more of it. I want more.”

“If you insist,” he said, happy to have a wife so eager for him.

Time became meaningless to you. Rationality and logic went out the window as the night progressed. You took Yunho in every area of the room, unable to stop this time. You rode him on an armchair in the corner; you let him bend you over a side table, smacking it into the wall with each push forward; he folded you like a pretzel against the door, so the downward position let you see where you both connected each time. He came inside every round. No doubt you’d be pregnant soon with how much cum he pumped out; it felt almost never ending, and you loved it.

“One more round, please?” you asked breathlessly, sliding him between your ass cheeks. “You can do it in here this time.”

Yunho, flushed red, sweaty and exhausted, let out a low chuckle. “Not now, darling wife,” he said, bringing you down to kiss him. “You should sleep. Your body is tired, I can tell.”

He was right. All the movement left your muscles aching; your throat felt dry from constantly breathing heavily and you were nearly lightheaded. But, your desire outweighed your physical being.

“But I want it,” you whined, shifting to put one tip to your hole. “May I at least sit on them? You don’t have to push. I can do all the work while you sleep.”

“I can go longer. Pros of being a demon.” 

“You may have it in the morning,” he said, pulling you off him and onto the bed. “Try relaxing,” he said, bringing you under the sheets and snuggling you to him, “Think of something else.”

“I can’t,” you murmured into his chest. Your fingers found his nipples and pinched them lightly, hoping to rouse at least one dick again. “Don’t you want to make sure I’m pregnant?” you asked.

“I know you will be,” he said assuredly. “I’d be surprised if not after how much is inside you right now.”

“Well, do it one more time,” you shifted around against him, trying to put him back inside, “Just to make sure, right?”

“YN, no,” he said more firmly, holding you in place. Seeing that his presence only encouraged your behavior, he slipped away from the bed to grab his robe. The exertion of so many sessions took their toll on the both of you, but Yunho kept his composure as a prince should. “I’ll have Atala tend to you. Go to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

You grunted disappointedly as he left the room. Everything suddenly felt too cold. He was right. You needed sleep. Closing your eyes, you took deep, steady breaths to try forcing away the arousal rolling around. How could you still be horny? That never happened before. It scared you, somewhat. Wanting to be rid of the stickiness and sweat, you stood up and went over to a wash basin. In the mirror behind it, you watched yourself clean up the mess dripping down your thighs. He’d come a lot. You normally didn’t let clients finish inside, since a pregnancy would drive potential customers away. The fear of a child in your current condition frightened you. You couldn’t possibly get pregnant, not like this. It was absurd when you pondered on it.

“Yeah, that’s not happening. You’re my girl, not his.” 

The bedding chamber had no windows, and only one door to escape through. You’re sure guards would be placed there to make sure you don’t leave. The first step of escape is to find a reason to leave the harem. Maybe you can cause an accident or pretend to be ill? You could seduce a guard into letting you out. There must be a way.

****

You jolted out of sleep, eyes wide and body quaking. Sweat caused chills over your body, and you shuddered as you registered them. You stared around in confusion for a moment. The room around you did not seem familiar until you blinked your bleary eyes into focus. Yunho’s bedding chamber had gone dark while you slept, all the candles having melted to the end of the wick in their holders. You half expected to find yourself in another room, where two people spoke yet you didn’t recall what was said or who said it. The dream came in blurs, not vivid pictures.

It had only been a dream, that’s all. It meant nothing, like so many before. Sitting up, you pushed back hair from your face and took deep breaths. Your heart beat mimicked a hummingbird’s, and only focusing on the sheets in your hands kept you in reality again. You walking through the Rooster’s Nest could not have only been three days ago. What happened then felt more like a nightmare, as well as everything that followed. It was something you wished to forget, but you knew you never would.

Your body felt too heavy, too sore to really move. You laid in the soft sheets, your mind filling with thoughts of the fate laid out before you. The escape plans you formulated in your head all sounded childish, but you needed to try. Even if he did have two dicks and a great tongue, you refused to be Yunho’s “wife”. You wouldn’t sit in a tower room all day, painting pictures or reading books while the rest of the world moved past you. You wouldn’t wait for the curse to strip your dignity and freedom away. You’d get out of this castle one way or another.

“YN?”

The door opened, and light poured directly onto you. Celeste’s cool voice came to you from the doorway, her shadow casting on the rocky wall beside the bed.

“Atala says you need to wake up now,” she said with hesitancy in her voice. “It’s…important, she says.”

“Can’t it wait?” you groaned, rolling over to relieve pressure on one side. “I just woke up.”

“I’m afraid it can’t,” she replied. “I brought you fresh clothes to change into. She said you won’t be needing what you’d worn last night.”

You propped yourself up to look at her, the light burning your eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I’m…You should get dressed and come downstairs.”

She left a bundle on your bed, and then quickly left. Your dream came back to you, and you couldn’t shake off the fear. The clothes she gave you only worried you more. A flimsy linen tunic and a leather belt was all she’d given you. It didn’t match what the concubines wore at all, and your body fell into a cold sweat. Still, you pulled on the tunic and belted it at your waist. Coming downstairs, you saw the four wives’ discomfort as they watched you approach. Delly didn’t meet your eyes, and Luna concentrated hard on the book in her lap. Fauna kept herself closed off with her arms, picking at her skirt nervously and staring out the window. Celeste sat in a corner, knitting a small scarf and not looking at you. Apprehensive, you stopped a few feet from them when you saw the two standing behind Atala. Their skin tinged purple and green, their decaying bodies stood hunched over in their tattered, battered armor. You did not like how they stared at you, so menacingly.

It was Atala who spoke.

“YN, you’re to come with me,” she said, hands behind her back and feet apart.

“Why?”

“His Grace has decided you are not fit to be a wife.”

You recalled what Celeste told you about what happened to girls who displeased Yunho. “But…last night…I did everything he wanted. I let him put it inside me. I’ll definitely get pregnant with how many loads he dumped in me.”

“Prince Yunho has recently learned that due to your condition-”

“-My condition?!"-”

“-You are not able to bear him children, and therefore are completely useless to him-”

“-Not being able to have a kid doesn’t make me useless-” you spat back at her.

“-And he’s decreed that you’ll be leaving with General Song.”

“With Mingi? Why?”

“He is an old friend of Prince Yunho’s, and he wants to give him a special gift,” she said. “If he’s not going to put you to use, then perhaps General Song can.” She saw your fiery gaze and continued, “There are worse fates than ending up with The General, YN. He isn’t cruel or unkind. He’ll treat you well, and perhaps he can help with your mark. He is a powerful warlock, who can perform all kinds of magic. He might be able to ease its effects before they grow worse.”

“I’d still be his slave,” you argued. “You do realize slavery is slavery regardless of who the ‘master’ is, right? I don’t care about any of that. I want to get this damn mark taken off. I don’t want to be somebody’s pet or toy. You all might be okay with being collared and stuck in one place, but not me.” You walked over to her, “Atala, you can’t possibly think this is okay?”

“I’m sorry, but this is how things are on this side of the realm,” she said sincerely. “These men are here to take you to him.”

The undead soldiers walked around here, and immediately grabbed each arm. Their boney hands gripped your biceps tightly when they lifted you off the ground. You kicked around a few inches from the floor, twisting in their grasp and grunting through your teeth.

“Let go of me, you freaks!” You hissed, trying to kick one of them as you left the room. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“The General says otherwise,” the one missing an eye said in a throaty voice. You looked to see the hole in his neck showing his vocal chords. “You’re going to be his pretty plaything and like it or else.”

“I’d rather die!”

His cohort laughed, “You say that as if that’d stop him.”

“Ah, I see the game he’s playing here. Mingi was always a sneaky one. Too bad it’s not going to work out.” 

You struggled the entire way down to the front courtyard. You expected to see Yunho standing somewhere nearby, but you only saw Mingi by a wagon. The steel cage sitting in the back was meant to hold prisoners, and you were his prisoner. He’d been giving orders to a soldier who held his head under his arm when the two men brought you forward. His pale eyes looked at you in delight, eager by the sight of you.

“Exactly how I pictured you,” he grinned. Cold, stiff fingers brushed your cheek, and you flinched away. “Ah, come on, don’t be like that. You should be thanking me. Yunho wanted to throw you into the slave pits to die, and I told him he should give you to me.” He stared down at your body, cracked lips curling into a smirk, “I promise I won’t toss you away like garbage. I’ll take very good care of you.”

“Let. Me. Go,” you said through gritted teeth.

“Why? It’s not like you could make it on your own out here,” he said. He clicked his teeth, and beckoned the soldiers closer. “If he’d just let you go, you’d get picked up by somebody eventually, then you’d be in real trouble.” He withdrew a black rope from his pocket, “Trust me, sweetheart, this is better.”

“Lord Kim is supposed to be coming for me.” 

“And I’m going to take you somewhere safe until he does.” 

The soldiers forced your arms forward, and Mingi tied the rope around them in intricate knots.

“I’ll get away,” you threatened. “You wait and see. He will come for me and turn you into ash,” or so you hoped. 

“As if he'd care what happens to a Cursed. Unless you can do magic that’s not going to be possible,” he tightened the final knot, “Put her in the cage.” 

“No, no, no! Let go! Let go!”

You strained against the soldiers holding you, twisting in their grasp as they forced you into the cage. The covered roof blocked out the sky, and the sides remained open for everyone to see you. You glared at Mingi, and reached for the door bars. When you wrapped your hands around the criss-crossing squares, a jolt of electricity zapped right through you. Immediately, you let go of the bars to the amusement of the soldiers around you. Massaging your hands, you tried rubbing the numbing feeling pinching underneath the skin. Mingi’s pale eyes looked at you boastfully, turning to the people around him with approval. 

“Like I said,” he walked up to the cage, looking up at you from below, “Unless you can do magic, you’re not going anywhere. Enjoy the ride, sweetheart. I promise it'll be just as fun for you as it’ll be for me.” 

Your eyes stayed on him as he mounted a skeletal horse, and began strolling beside the wagon. Like an unwanted possession, you’d been taken from one “master” to only be discarded and given to another. You did not have the time for this. Three days have passed since you’d been marked, and you felt time blowing right by you. You didn’t know how long it’d take you to get to your destination, but seeing the slow moving procession, you’d be gone before you arrived. 

“Don’t take it too hard. Mingi has an image to keep up like I do. He’s okay once you get to know him, and he is my most loyal soldier. He won’t harm you unless he wants to get broken into tiny pieces.” 

Leaning back against the cage wall, you huddled onto the bed of hay and tried not thinking of how much you wanted to knock off The General’s head. 

****

The guard fell to the ground like a brick. His body completely frozen, a light frost covered him from the tips of his wings to the claws of his feet. Hongjoong could easily crush him into pieces, but he refrained. He wanted Yunho to know who’d done this. Stepping over the body, he crept into the antechamber. The heat running through the rocky walls penetrated even his icy skin, but he managed it. 

“My lord?” a female voice spoke from behind him. 

The soldier did not have time to react. In an instant, Hongjoong threw a bright blue flame in her direction. Like with her fellow, the green Dragonite became a frozen statue and tipped over. Moving through the darkened chamber, he easily broke through the tall doors on the other side. Inside, he found what he’d been looking for. Underneath the valley’s tallest volcano was the hatching chamber. A large circular room raised above a flowing lava river, the hot steam and molten rocks kept royal eggs warm in small incubators. Hongjoong glared at them. These eggs, while cherished as any life, had been the product of rape. Yes, that is what Yunho had done to his wives and others, even if they claimed otherwise. It angered him. He’d crush every single one if he could, just to punish the entitled prince for defying him. 

Opening the bag across his chest, Hongjoong pulled on a pair of thick gloves and walked over to a trio of eggs. One was a bright silver, the other a dark bronze and the third an emerald green. He picked up the green egg, examining the football sized egg and its glittering shell. Life wriggled around inside the egg. A hatchling almost ready to break its shell. Yes, he’ll take this one. He did the same to the silver and bronze, deeming them worthy, and stored them carefully in his bag. Aerion couldn’t bear her own eggs anymore, so she’ll be delighted to have these. 

Besides, they should be raised by a true dragon, not whatever Yunho had become. 

On the rocky bed, Hongjoong laid a single note. ‘You took what was mine. I take what is yours,’ was written in his handwriting. Leaving the way he’d come, he didn’t bother confronting Yunho. He had a trail to follow. Yunho will know soon enough. One of the chamber attendants will see three missing eggs, and it’ll throw the prince into ultimate despair. It is his punishment. His atonement for what he’d done. Yes, Hongjoong encouraged you to embrace your curse and enjoyed watching, but the idea that Yunho intended to keep you enraged him. The necklace should have told him how important you were. 

“My lord?” 

Celeste. Beautiful, intelligent Celeste who’d been sold by her parents to her master. Like the other wives, she learned to accept her fate a long time ago. He stared down at her belly, and realized she was no longer pregnant. It had been three days since you’d left Yunho. She likely had the child in the days since. Hongjoong guessed she was visiting her children, if she was out of the tower so late. Gold eyes stared at him, then at his bag, and then back at him. 

“Which ones?” She asked him, a hint of worry in her voice. 

“Silver, bronze and emerald,” he answered. “They’re almost fully formed. I didn’t touch the fresh eggs. Do they belong to any of you?”

She shook her head. “They must be the pit eggs.”

“Pit eggs?”

“Yunho sometimes breeds women from the slave pits. If they have a child, they’re brought to the harem but then taken back down again.”

He scoffed, “He has no shame.”

“Is this because of YN?”

“Yes.”

She looked over at him once, then said, “You love her.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Then why give her as a gift to another man? It doesn’t sound like anything a man would do to the woman he loves.”

“Misunderstandings, misfortune, manipulation and lies,” he answered, each word digging another dagger into his chest. “Seonghwa found her before I could, and assumed I’d sent her to him. Yunho believed he was stealing Seonghwa’s new pet. Mingi is likely taking her to the Grey Lands right now where I hope she’ll be safe until I arrive.” 

“Not one of the greater moments, is it?” 

“Not at all. I have to fix this before it gets worse.”

And he would. He bid the Dragonite good night, then slipped out through an open window. Planting on the ground, he went to a horse hidden in the volcano’s shadow. He stared up into the sky, the sky growing darker as night approached, and saw the bird in the sky. A sharp whistle called Garnet down to him once. 

“I have to go find Aerion,” he told the black crow, “I want you to find Mingi’s company and follow them. They’re likely somewhere in the foothills by now. Okay?”

The crow hopped around on the horse’s back, and Hongjoong withdrew a small pumpkin seed. “There, now go.” 

Thankfully, Aerion mostly lingered around the northern part of the range. She will be happy to receive the eggs. As he rode away on his horse, a man’s howling rage echoed behind him. 

Serves him right.

****

A/N: Nothing ever really goes how we expect, huh? Mingi's got his own agenda, and YN is part of it. Tune in next chapter to see what happens to our lovers next.

[midnite-c6]

i have so many different au ideas with namgyu and thanos

imagine frontman!namgyu and thanos (imagine there can be two) and timid!reader (who won a game before but wanted to stop it like Gi-hun)

frontman!namgyu and thanos who joins the game again to see their timid!reader, seeing how you’re just as shy as you were when you first played.

frontman!namgyu and thanos know you can protect yourself but they can’t help but be protective especially after seeing how shy you still are

ong the manipulation AND the mocking. foaming at the mouth, drooling. offtopic: 001 was hot asf, but this aint abt him.

frontman!thanos & nam-gyu x timid!reader imagine!! warnings: 18+, DARK content, noncon, sa, manipulation (please read at ur own risk guys D: !!!!)

god they were definitely laughing to themselves to see you try again in stopping their games, i mean, who tf r u anyway, but damn were you so cute for trying. like.. watching you last time, neither of them expected you to win, but theyre def pleased you did! and now that you joined again.. they decided to play with you and your feelings! omg you'll be saying your masterplan and they'd nod so sweetly like they trust you with all their heart :< & when you tell them to vote X, they vote X! you just can't help but be grateful since the two "sweetest" boys who seem pretty strong are on your team, (they're not, but they're definitely tag-teaming you)

ohhh you're so glad that there were truly good people in the world, or you were just too naive..and dumb.. so dumb for trusting them, trusting them SO much to let them give you one last sweet goodbye before fighting the guards during lights out..

nam-gyu wraps his arms around your waist securely, nuzzling against the crook of your neck, your back tightly pressed against his chest. thanos is on watch duty since you suggested that one person should always stay awake during lights out, they cleverly figured that one of them should keep you eeeeextra safe, and who are you to really decline the offer?

nsfw below!!-> (⁠っ⁠˘⁠з⁠(⁠˘⁠⌣⁠˘⁠ ⁠).

his warm breath tickles the exposed skin of your neck. he had always been the more 'physical' one from the two, he loves to just touch you everywhere, and you let him, i mean he's just so caring, and his past is so tragic you can't help but feel bad :<. his hand moves from your waist to your stomach, before going higher to lightly graze your chest. you squirm underneath his touch, lightly moving his hand, thinking it wasn't intentional. a few minutes later,, he'd move his hand again, this time underneath your shirt, lightly squeezing your chest, making you go wide awake! "nam-gyu.." "yeah?.." he whispers sleepily, "..i can't sleep, miss." he'd continue to tease your nipples, making them harden by his rough fingers :< "w..why are you touching me there?" you whispered so purely, you're gonna be the death of him, he hums, "why..? do you want me to touch you somewhere else?" you couldn't help but whine from the painful feeling, "n-nam-gyu.." he shushes you, "it's okay.. i'm gonna miss you. once we defeat whoever's behind these games, we might not see eachother again.." his hand quickly moved underneath your pants, slipping easily past the waistband of your panties, "but.. w.. we'll definitely see eachother again.." he groans "do you not want this?" "u-uhm.." you can't reply, distracted by his pointer finger hastily tickling your sensitive bud or how your skin feels warmer and warmer by his hot breath touching your skin everytime he exhales. "i just want to thank you, for guiding us, keeping everyone alive y'know?" you still couldn't reply. "its like..." his lips brush your skin, "..you are an angel sent from above." how could you decline??

"time's up bro- oh, shit, you actually did it." thanos looked in awe, but he'd quickly pull at player 124's jacket and take him away off of you, "fuck you." nam-gyu only replied as thanos takes his spot. he'd make you face him, seeing a "betrayed" look on your face. "oh what's wrong, baby..?" he pouted, a hand gently cupping your face. you'd stare right into his blue eyes. "don't.. don't worry, we're just both scared, like you.." you furrow your brows, what does he mean?? "i mean.. there's a chance we die tomorrow.. baby, i'll forever forget not getting a taste of you, you understand, right?" you nodded, only because you were being nice, not because you understood. he smiled.

"this'll be fast, angel." you were such an angel. really.

sorry i love nam-gyu somuch guys sorrh GETTING THRU MY DRAFTS ONE BY ONE!! WOOO!! thanos x namgyusgf!reader next!! :^

[mrs-bluemarine]

Hey, so remember that cyber bullying is lame as fuck and we don't like people who do that? *edited with more information

*Second edit to this post. Rot uses she/it pronouns. I know this now, but during making this post I was unaware, so below the cut I referred to her with they/them, before correcting myself in my first edit. I do apologize for misgendering her, as that was not my intention. I hope you can understand, thank you for reading

Content warning for talk of bullying, body shaming, threats of harm, joking about sexual trauma, and like, manipulation?

So the tl;dr is there's a person who I've been recently warned about that's rejoined the selfship community. They've hurt two people I know personally and care deeply for. I'm making this post because they don't wish for the attention to be on them, which I completely understand

I don't have any personal connection to this person, however I value the words of these two people (who I will call Mutual-A and Mutual-B) and I only wish for their safety and comfort. I do not want any harm or rude things sent to this blog, simply block and move on

Reblogs would be appreciated, and I ask for people to at least skim over what I talk about under the read more. I don't feel comfortable knowing that my other mutuals interact with a person who's harmed people that I care for

^ their new user name, since I don't want to type here and accidentally find this places where it shouldn't be. I do believe they had a different selfship blog here, that has since disappeared, I think they deleted it, since I had the original blocked and this one wasn't.

Now like mentioned previously, I have no ties to this person and the only "interaction" I've had with them was seeing the incredibly rude and disgusting things they've said about Mutual-A. As a nonsharer myself and someone who fights with my mental issues, I don't think shaming someone's body and outright wishing physical violence on people who share your comfort characters is a sane or normal thing to do. If these screenshots look familiar it's because they've been taken from a post about this person in the past, when this was originally happening

Again, talk of body shaming and wishes of harm (which no matter how silly is still a threat)

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As for this second person, Mutual-B, what they've been through with them was some time ago. While Mutual-B wasn't a victim of harassment to as big of scale as Mutual-A, I still think their feelings on the matter are important to highlight. I don't have screenshots of these ordeals in particular, only word of mouth, but I trust this person deeply, and never before have they tried to bad mouth anyone without reason. On multiple occasions with this person Mutual-B has told me they threatened to call out B as a p.ro.shipper, something THEY ARE NOT, simply for reblogging or interacting with posts with tags they didn't already have filtered out. I've know B for a while now and I can tell you that it's simply not true

Warning for jokes of sexual trauma/SA and manipulation

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That's all. Once again reminding to NOT attack this person, just block and move on. For a community built on self love and comfort I don't find any of this shit to be acceptable to have in it

________________________________

EDIT, because apparently we're not done here.

Since making this post, this person (will be referring to them/her as Rot) has since made a post addressing the situation. I'm also adding on more screenshots found by myself and others (apologize for the quality of some, as they're taken from my computer due to the picture limit) Going to go ahead and add another content warning for talk of SA/a character who has committed it, will add more warnings if needed

First thing Rot talks about in her post is how her interaction with Moot-A was a year and a half ago, which isn't true, right now it's been barely over a year and two months ago. I feel like this is a way to try to paint us badly by "Bringing up stuff from way back in the past", I understand a few months difference isn't much, this is a tiny nitpick I'm sure but it still didn't settle right with me. I can also understand if this was just plain misremembering.

Second point, as for the warning above, Rot makes it clear that she ships herself with a canonical rapist, J.immy from the game Mouthwashing. The fact he assaulted his coworker is incredibly important to the story of the game, there is no denying it or any chance that this could be some gross misinterpretation. Not that Rot tries to deny this. She understands who Jimmy is. She just choices to ignore it.

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And I find that really fucking disturbing. Considering how she assures people she doesn't condone his actions and how she says she takes SA seriously, then why the fuck would you even ship with him in the first place? Would also like to point out that if you do choose to ignore the worst flaw of his character... there's still so much more to him that's simply bad. But that's irrelevant/personal opinion. J.immy is a well written character and villain, I can agree, however he is a man who should not be touched with a ten foot pole

Considering a lot of her harassment towards A was about how bad A was for "mischaracterizing" a shared F/o and how A diverged from canon, and how much she disliked A for it, I find it very hypocritical for her to ignore J.immy's biggest flaw. The fact she doesn't mention his actions in game isn't something I didn't notice either, whether that's intentional or not I'm not sure, but it still feels gross

She and others also mention the character K.enjaku. However, I have not watched/read J.J.K. so I have no comment on that.

My final note on this is simply. I don't care if you ship with villains, I myself have multiple characters that are villains or bad people that I hold dearly. (this is a reason why i'm hesitant to talk about this in particular) however. There's just some things and characters you shouldn't fucking touch.

The last thing I will add to this edit is her stance on pro.shipp.ing. She's reprimanded past friends for reblogging posts from pro.shippers, she's threatened to call them out as pro.ship for it. She also pointblank puts on her blog that she doesn't want that part of the community to interact with her. Except she still continues to reblog posts with the pro tags. People make mistakes, but the fact she's scolded and threatened people for doing the same while these posts get to stay on her blog upsets me

**I've also been given screenshots of dark content she's reblogged. Now I do agree with the statement that dabbling in darker themes with ships is fine (there's some big scary ""n*ance"" in that comment). I won't shame someone for enjoying fucking idk kidnapping or unhealthy relationship dynamics. Again, I don't think I'm the right person to play holier than thou on a high horse, but I feel it's worth mentioning since someone went as far as to send me those screenshots.

Warning for allusions to SA in the 3rd/nonfiltered post

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^^ last screenshot is added simply because nonsharervents has a "bad rep" because OP is neutral to/allows pro.shippers to interact

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[kousanosgf]

men, minors dni

sevika x prostitute!reader

sometimes life gets worse, before it becomes better. luckily sevika ready to help you with it.

a\n: i hate how half of this fandom makes "sexy sevika in a brothel" jokes. this was written with the strong despisement for anyone who supports swork and thinks that it's freeing in any shape or form. it's NOT a light one, i'd say, so please be careful with the content you're consuming. also inform me if i should change something about the tags or tws

tw: mention of suicide, not explicit describtion of SA, drug abuse

tags: angst, hurt\comfort (kinda?), no smut (idk if i can call it sfw, sex is mentioned but not with sevika), happy ending

whispers run through the main hall, they won't stop repeating for half an hour at least, every worker and guest is too excited or nervous to be in the haunting dog of zaun's presence. "she's here". "sevika came". it won't be surprising if someone suggests placing a bet who she'll choose next, now that her favorite girl is dead.

well, that's the thing really, you couldn't care less for anyone in here and especially sevika. your best friend is dead and you can't even mourn her properly, because there's always "clients demand our full attention, girls, don't forget that" and "no alcohol or drugs, unless our guests want it, girls". there's numbing pain tugging at you heart, making you want to vomit every time you have to think of your loss and there's no way to drink yourself to oblivion to not feel all this.

so far, the night was calm. the only man for the night left you alone an hour ago after mindlessly fucking you face down into the mattress for couple of minutes and disappearing as soon as he finished. you could only hope for it go as smoothly but luck wasn't on your side for some time now. a shadow looms over before you notice who it belongs to.

you raise your eyes. sevika. "of course," you think, "cause the day needs to get worse".

"are you free?" she asks bluntly. no greetings, no small talk. that's normal really, manageable. it's usually way worse when the client wants to spill all their heartache or frustration before what they actually came for.

"not even gonna buy girl a drink?" you try to put on your prettiest face, smiling coyly and frowning in a fake pout, hoping she'll let you get at least a bit drunk.

"no, come on". she just turns around and heads towards the second floor to the private rooms.

a scream dies somewhere on a tip of your tongue, leaving sour taste.

you have to hurry after her, people as powerful as sevika hate nothing more than to wait and there's no reason to get on her bad side. it's nerve wracking, scary even, to guess what kind of client she will be. there're not much women who come here and not one of them has ever chosen you. a risk of sevika getting frustrated and dissatisfied with your inexperience is high and definitely not what you want since if the customer is angry then madame is angry and you'll be punished in some way.

you take a look at sevika again, following her step by step. she holds herself with great confidence, understandable for someone with such a status, broad shoulders, perfect posture, full heavy steps that make people move out of her path.

you reach the room finally, dreadfully. sevika sits down in the chair waiting for you to lock the door. as you do so, you turn back to her, sliding the straps off your minidress down.

"wait, no." sevika stops you. "i'm not here for this. just sit down." she gestures to the bed and you follow her orders, confused but not daring to ask.

the silence follows. you sit in your place trying not to breathe too hard, a blank expression on your face, while sevika thinks something through.

"you knew yana?" you basically jump in place, hearing your friend's name. "i mean... she was your friend?"

"she is my friend." you snap unexpectedly even for yourself but don't correct the words or make an attempt at apologizing no matter how dangerous that move is.

the corner of sevika's lip rises a little in a smirk but it's gone as fast as it appeared.

"she's dead." "doesn't change the fact that she's my friend." gods, why can't you shut up.

there's a pure rage boiling inside of you. it's painful when no one in this fucking place took time to acknowledged her death. another whore killing herself, what's the news really? but this... it's worse, the way sevika seems more amused with the fact than, you don't know, at least sad that one of her favorites is no longer here.

silence again. sevika studies you like she's trying to find something. the gaze is different from what you usually get from customers, burning, suffocating glances of men who look you over, imagine what you would look like naked under them before making there choice and passing several bills to madame.

"you have a lot of friends here?" what the fuck is she on about?

"i don't run my mouth if that's what you need."

"that's not what i asked." the smirk again. "but whatever."

she lights a cigarette and makes a few puffs. as the smell reaches you, you can't help but scrunch your nose, never appreciative of the smell. as she sees your dissatisfaction, she clicks her tongue and reaches for the ashtray, putting the cigarette down.

"here's what we gonna do. i'll sleep here till morning and you just... i don't know, do your thing? sleep too?" she waves her hand in the air.

you have to take a moment before her words actually lock in. "what?" sevika doesn't strike you as the type to use some euphemisms when she talks about sex, "sleep" here actually seems like she means it.

"you heard me. i already paid for the whole night if you're worried about it." she gives no further explanation and just leans back, dropping her head on the chair and closing her eyes. it's better not to disturb her. there's not much to say or do for you so you just sit there for a while, listening to the steady breathing and fall asleep yourself, not ready to give up a prospect of a calm night. when you wake up in the morning, sevika isn't there.

she comes and goes. for the last two weeks sevika visited you almost every day. the nights go basically the same. nothing much happens, though she becomes more and more chatty with every meeting.

you know her favorite food, know how her day went, know what she thinks about every chem-baron. in return sevika knows what're your favorite flowers, knows what your childhood was like, knows how you got into the brothel.

she's always so nonchalant about her questions, trying not to make a big deal out of it, like she's simply asking to fill the space. but working in a place like this teaches you read people easily and it becomes clear very quickly that sevika is actually searching for something. you're not sure if it's safe to give her the information she wants to hear but it's been too long since you had a person to talk to. it becomes easy to pretend like she actually interested in your stories and opinions.

she also now sleeps in a bed with you, leaving her place in the chair on the third night when you offer it yourself. she's one of those people who can fall asleep on a whim anywhere and anytime, you guess. or she's just very good at pretending.

and when she does fall asleep you lie awake, looking at her, replaying everything she said earlier in your head, trying to make sense of it, of her.

you get caught eventually. one night she just opens her eyes as she wakes up (if she's slept at all) and looks straight at you. both of you lie on your sides, facing each other. nothing is said for good five minutes, she's studying your features as well as you do hers in a dim glow of the lamp post outside the window.

"wanna know a secret?" sevika finally breaks the comfortable silence, a light smirk on her lips. you nod your head slowly, not breaking the eye contact.

"i'm getting you out of here."

the sentence doesn't register, so you have to ask her to repeat it.

"i'm getting. you. out." she says again, slowly, dividing the words.

you rise up swiftly, leaning yourself on the elbow. "you're not funny." of course it's some twisted joke, what else could it be. anger ready to overtake you easily.

the smirk grows wider on her face. "im serious, sweetheart."

that's when she tells you. probably the craziest thing you've ever heard. her visits to the brothel were never for any sexual pleasures, mostly getting intel for her and, by extant, silco's plans. till couple of months ago when she took on a mission of getting such a business out of zaun.

yana was suppose to be one of the first women who sevika and her team would save. they were late in the end.

"why didn't you tell her?" you ask partially frustrated at the coincidence of circumstances and sevika. if only yana knew that the help was on the way, she would still be alive, probably free from her prison. instead she just couldn't handle the life she thought she's bound to till her dying day or when she'll become old enough for madame to throw her out on the streets cause she wouldn't bring enough money.

"i was afraid to risk it, she was too unstable to be trusted such an information for a long term." sevika sighs heavily, dragging a hand through her face. "that was a wrong move on my end."

"and yet you're telling me this two weeks later? there were no guarantee for you that i wouldn't do the same."

"i... had to take a gamble. i knew basically nothing about you before. yana did share some stories but that wasn't enough to ease my anxieties."

you talk and talk and talk. about yana, about your life here. you throw question after question to her and she doesn't seem to get tired of answering you.

"why me? or why... not everyone at once?"

"it's impossible to do this in one go without much practice. look at this as us dipping toes in the water."

"so i'm a guinea pig?" sevika opens her mouth to argue but closes it immediately, realizing that you're only teasing her.

"no, you're something i can fix. give me a week more, okay?" she says it with such confidence in her voice that you got nothing else to do but to believe her.

sevika comes every night now, trying to take as much as she can of your working time so others won't get to you. there's a slight tug of guilt somewhere in your heart, because there's probably girls in the brothel who need this more, who can handle less than you, who just got here and weren't that much ruined with the way people treat them like some meat to jerk off to.

"your arm."

you look over yourself. it is an old bruise that got her concerned, one of the clients getting too harsh. you don't remember much, he let you have a blunt, you didn't ask of what, before everything occurred. it's yellow already, few days more and it'll disappear.

"fuck. probably smudged my makeup somewhere."

sevika's look is heavy, fixed on the spot.

"it's nothing, don't worry."

"it's not nothing." she's now looking straight into your eyes, there's a dangerous fire gleaming and it's impossible to hold her gaze so you just look to the side, noticing her fingers digging into an armrest. it is not nothing, you both know that. but all you can think of is that you would love to feel sevika's palm on you, covering the damned bruise, letting you dream it was never there.

no, you deserve to run as much as the next person. and it's not like you're gonna be the only one. like sevika told you, it's only the beginning.

"good news", sevika says and there's a smile on her face. you're not sure if you ever saw her smile. not a grin or a smirk that she gives everyone here but a genuine, warm smile. she looks lovely with it and you can't help but smile too back at her, not even knowing the reason.

"like what?"

the morning air is cool, autumn starts to take the reigns of nature. there's only a set of underwear and a nightgown on you so you shiver and hug yourself. you couldn't take any of your belongings, she said yesterday night, when she finally announced that it's time to set the plans in motion. some kind of big cloth, a poncho, you regester not as fast as you'd like to, lends on your shoulders, warm from the body heat of it's owner.

"sorry, that's all i got for now. need to get to the safe house, have actually some clothes for you."

you nod dumbfounded and just follow her. everything feels like a dream really, that about to be ripped away and you'll simply wake up back in the room that smells of head numbing incenses, ready to greet another customer.

you look over the clothes she gave you, simple pair of brown jeans, a black turtleneck and a jacket. the jeans are a size too big for you but nothing a belt can't fix.

"the plans to get you out changed so quick, i completely forgot to buy something your size."

"was it for her?" you don't need the answer, you know it already.

"yeah."

there're tears falling down that you can't control. you cry silently, turned away from sevika. you're not sure if she actually doesn't notice or just wants to give you space when she finally says "alright, gonna step out for you to change, meet me in the kitchen when you're ready."

as she takes a step to the door you lounge yourself at her, grabbing calloused hand and tugging it to your waist, looking for contact. now only you can do is cry, your sobs becoming louder and louder, your throat hurts like hell, you won't be able to speak later for sure.

there's a stream of "thankyouthankyouthankyou" coming from your mouth, your body basically presses inside sevika's. she doesn't answer. her other hand gently covers the crown of your head, guiding your tearful face to her chest and she lets you rest it there.

[sweetshuga]

My two cents on the messed up shit that's happening...

TW: sa, r@pe & js fucked up behavior.

I don't consider myself a big blog, but I do have quite a bit of followers and this post is made to spread awareness.

There's always a line you CANNOT cross – even in fiction.

Writing about bdsm or just s&m is alright, whatever, but writing about r@pe, consensual or not, is MESSED up.

"It's just fiction." If you think that then you're fucking IGNORANT.

I write kinky fics, like fucking kinky shit as you all know, but you would never catch me writing about Matt or Chris r@ping/sa'ing someone even if it's consensual. Why? Because I have enough knowledge to understand how fucked up that is.

Flirting with minors? Let's not fucking do that and let's BE responsible adults. A 28 year old should NOT be talking to a teenager that way.

I'm 18 and even I fucking know that. That speaks for itself, doesn't it?

More people should LISTEN and LEARN.

DON'T CHOOSE TO BE IGNORANT!!!

If you want to know exactly what happened... Here & Here

random tags – @sagesturns @strnilolover @mattsfavoritestar @sophand4n4 @maliabakerscurls @mattsjuul @naviiq @nateismybf @nickgurl4life @blondiesturniolo @bendysbitches @vickytaa @bernardsbendystraws @candysturn @chrissbug333 @x0x0bunny @zebonos @zombiesturniolo @liiixsturniolos @lockettesstage @kenzlie @jonislvr @hjvi @helpimateenagerinlove @hearts4werka @giveheavensomehell @grungefck @ghsface @vanteguccir @waitforyrlove @darksturnz @delilahsturniolo @dominicfikeenthusiast @strnlslut @angelicwh1spers @pasteldreams @whore4mattsturniolo @phone4pills @phosphns @oldermenwh0re @immaqulate @ivysturnss @issysh3ll @unknvhx @user1smvtysturniolo @y3sterdaysproblem @yummyest @trevorsgodmother @thenickgirl @leoslaboratory

[v88sy]

ahem [*aims bazooka at the hornet nest*] the way anti tommy fics characterise Tommy is the way that canon Eddie has been treating Buck this season [*pulls the trigger*]

(more nuanced: obviously not referring to the DV or SA, but the whiplashing hot/cold, the casual cruelty, the "Buck's only useful when he's usable" attitude, that's all canon Eddie in s8. and to add to the irony, the way they characterise fanon eddie in these fics? that's canon tommy.)

.

.

.

.

(obviously given the state of this fandom right now I'm 100% not expecting this to get posted, I just felt the Urge to say it after seeing your post about the bucktommy tag on ao3 because yeah, it's fucking atrocious but it's only going to give bucktommy better ratings in the yearly wrap so who's really winning here)

Ooooooo, ok, I'm gonna gently grab your hand (with consent) and we're gonna walk together through this one because I'm bravely posting it.🤣

So, I've said before that I think their fanon Eddie is basically canon Tommy. Gay. Repressed by comphet. Failed relationships with women because he was too scared to admit who he really is. And, how they think Eddie would treat Buck in a romantic relationship are all ways in which Tommy has actually been shown to.

I think the only buddie fics I've ever read were from my partner in crime, and I purposefully don't click on any 'Tommy Kinard Bashing' fics (which, as an aside, relies on the author to have the common decency to at least tag correctly. More on that later) but in the particular case that spurred my original post, I just clicked on the comments because I wanted to see if there were any fellow buddies calling them out, which, yes, I have seen before on other fics. Things along the lines of "I'm a buddie fan too, but not like this."

Now, on to the fics themselves and not just how they're tagged. Fics like that, and like the 'anonymous hidden csa' fics that were being thrown in our tag...someone had to sit down and write that.

Like, I'm not trying to tell people what to write, and so this rant is more so just a me thing, but I honestly never did understand how someone could...even stomach that.

To write a (completely OOC) Tommy bashing fic where he's the most vile of the vile, or a csa fic with the intention of disguising what it really is in the hopes that we'll read it and be triggered...first someone has to sit there and bring the words into their brain. They had to make those words appear on a screen. And then, they had to post it to ao3, knowing full well what they are doing and that they are forcing it onto a collection of people that do not even want to know that it exists in the first place. Like. It just boggles my mind how someone could do that. I'd never be able to write the first sentence, let alone do all the rest of it.

I know I got sidetracked some from your original ask, but I do also agree that the way Eddie has been treating Buck this season is just...not it.

During season 7 hiatus, I wanna say shortly after we got bi Buck, I went back and rewatched the entire series again. I've watched live since day one, but was never really in the habit of watching an episode again once it had aired or sitting there and dissecting it once I pushed the 'off' button on the remote.

And let's just say, this time around, I really saw just how one sided that "friendship" is, and just how little "evidence" or "chemistry" there is pointing to buddie. All that just got turned up to 11 this season, and I truly do not comprehend how anyone could think "buddie canon" has "never been closer."

Mandatory PSA time: this isn't about chill multishippers or chill buddie shippers even. I know and talk to some and they're great. If you've never done any of the things above, then this ain't about you.

[b33zlebubz]

RIGOR MORTIS | CHAPTER THIRTEEN

SIMON RILEY X AFAB READER | 18+ MDNI | MASTERLIST | AO3 PREV CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER TAGS: reader uses she/her pronouns, fluff angst & eventual smut, blood violence & death, suicidal ideology, slow burn, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, toxic workplace environment, flashbacks, implied past SA “Abandoned in a battlefield with the one person you thought you would never see again; you're forced to come to terms with the ghosts of your past."

FRIDAY APRIL 27TH 2024 MEXICO, 1600 HOURS

"How's Angel holding up?"

Price's voice cuts through the silence of the night, only backed by the distant sound of crickets that comes with the warmer, drier weather of the past few days.  Simon glances to his right where you're fast asleep.  You have been since the argument the day before.  He watches your chest rise and fall in a steady motion, lungs shuddering with the strained, but steady, effort of breathing.

You keep rolling onto your back in your sleep, occasionally muttering something incomprehensible in your dreams.  Sometimes, he can make out what you're saying, when you’re awake enough.  Occasionally it's his name or a request for water, but rarely is it a full sentence.  Every time you roll over Simon gently nudges you back onto your side.  Pulls the blankets further over your blistering hot skin.

Pneumonia, definitely.  Simon curses himself for not noticing sooner, the rapid decline of your health.  He's pissed knowing you pushed yourself so far just to care for him and the dead, of all things.

You've long discarded your shirt, your back shiny with a thick sheen of sweat, splotched with burns and bruises of varying degrees under the blankets. Once a day he’s taken to wiping a damp cloth over your skin, changing your bandages, keeping sweat off your wounds and the puncture in your side.

"Still breathin'...somehow," Simon mutters into the radio, quiet.  "She was tryna collect the dead.  Been getting worse, since.”

"Well…she's a stubborn one.  Never went down easy, doubt she ever will."

He huffs a breath of agreement, letting his head rest back against a crate with a long sigh.  Not once has your name left Simon's mouth since you both parted ways—leaving it in the past, tucked away in that part of his brain with Tommy, Beth, Joseph, and other memories that he deems too tender to touch.  Price is no idiot, though.  Simon doubts the few weeks where your records overlap are lost on him—even if he doesn't say anything about it.

"And you?"

Simon runs a hand over his tired eyes as Price's voice pulls him out of his thoughts, "hm?"

"Colonel said you're concussed.  Shrapnel from an explosion…or something."

The worst of the headache has passed, but the pain still lingers—making him dizzy if he stands too fast and blind out in the sun.  Everything else he barely notices.  He's been concussed before; too many times to count, probably, so the pain is familiar.  In the grand scheme of things, it is the very last thing on his mind.

"I'm fine," Simon assures him.  "Could've been a lot worse, all things considered."

"Good.  Couldn't find you when the smoke cleared—had to drag Soap out of the rubble to get 'em out of there 'cause he wouldn't leave without you."

The image of Johnny scrounging through rubble on an active battlefield for him makes Simon shake his head.  The Sergeant was loyal to a fault—that's for sure.  He figures you and him might've been friends if circumstances were different, if things worked out differently.

Maybe you already were.  Fuck does he know. 

Simon, for a second, debates talking.  He figures he might end up doing it anyway once he's home; healed, and out with the captain with a few drinks in his system.  He usually does, these days.  Now is not the time for weakness, however, so he bites his tongue. 

"It's all foggy," Simon mutters, frustrated by his own memory loss as he feels the bandages across his forehead.  "She found me, got me upright.  I doubt I would've made it otherwise."

Price scoffs.  "Your Guardian Angel, eh?"

Simon's heart aches something fierce again and his hand squeezes part of his pants into his fist.  When his throat is too tight to reply, Price changes the subject after a huffed breath from Simon and a long stretch of silence.

"Gaz says they were tossin' bodies into ditches."

Simon shakes his thoughts out of his head.  Back on the mission, he redirects his mind to the present.  “Affirm.  I was one of them."

The line is silent for a second.

"...You were one of 'em?"  Price confirms slowly.

"Yes, sir."

The Captain sighs heavily.  Simon can almost picture him lowering his head and pinching the bridge of his nose.  He can picture Gaz shaking his head and huffing a laugh at his side, maybe elbowing Soap to crack some joke.  Simon finds himself missing them, his squad. 

"Bloody hell, Lieutenant…"

"Hm," Simon's lip ticks upwards in dark amusement.  "Suppose somethin' about this country wants me dead."

"Eh, well, you certainly win the prize for worst luck out of the bunch."

"I expect somethin’ shiny for that when I get back."

Price chuckles, deep and raspy.  

"I figure we can get that arranged."

You stir in your makeshift bed, rolling over with a deep breath that rumbles in your damaged lungs.  Simon nearly jolts when your arm falls near his leg—close enough for your warmth to radiate but not enough to touch.  Your face is peaceful save for the slight furrow in your brow; suggesting your sleep might not be as restful as it is on the surface.  Your hair is damp with sweat and skin a few shades lighter than normal.  Still, despite your sickly countenance, Simon finds something in his chest still feels warm when he looks at you.  

It's then he realizes that fucking hell.  You've still got him whipped.  Years have passed and yet, still, he finds himself dodding after you whether he realizes it or not.  Warm from your touch, aching from your separation.  You brush your hand against his leg and it feels like you mine-as-well have shoved him with how his heart leaps.  It's almost pathetic, his hesitancy.  How just the ghost of your arm against his leg is so foreign and so familiar and so comforting all at the same time, and it scares him.

He thinks, maybe, you're the only person alive who can actually make the Ghost nervous.  Who can crack the mask with just a touch. 

Still, he shifts slightly closer, allowing you to rest against him.  Simon reaches out, smoothing your hair back and away from your damp forehead and you subconsciously lean into his touch, into his hand.

He reaches over for the radio again.

"Captain."

"Ghost."

Simon swallows thickly and takes a steadying breath before he speaks.

"Get here quick," he says, his throat tight.  "I don't think she'll..."

He trails off.  For a while, Price doesn't speak either.  Dread weighs heavy on the silence like each of your deep, labored breaths and the hum of a plane engine on the other end of the radio.

"We'll get you both back alive, Lieutenant," Price assures him sincerely.  "Promise."

FRIDAY APRIL 27TH 2024 MEXICO, 1800 HOURS

You stir, chest heaving in the night before his name leaves your mouth in a sigh so quiet he almost doesn't hear it at first.

"Simon."

His eyes flicker open immediately.  He shifts over, the stir of blankets loud in the quiet of the night, and Simon can probably count on one hand the number of times in his life his voice has gone so soft so naturally.  

"M'here, love," he says, his voice a low rumble.

He finds your bandaged hand in the dark, giving it a squeeze for good measure.  Your eyes blink in the darkness and he wonders how long you've been awake, looking at him.  Your hand squeezes back and a feeling akin to relief floods his chest.

"How long until Exfil?"  You murmur.

He checks his watch.  Time moves slow.

"They're still 48 hours out," he whispers.  "We'll get you fixed.  Promise."

You let out a small breath, your eyes squeezing shut again.  You pull his hand towards you and that warm something in Simon's chest twists just a little for the umpteenth time.

"It's fucking Mexico…"  you murmur, voice cracking slightly.  "Why's it so cold?"

Maybe it's the fact that he's half asleep, but he doesn't even have to think about what he does next.  Slowly, he sits up.  Your eyes blink open to track his movements as he shifts closer, a hand on your shoulder as he nudges you over.

You grunt, following his instructions and shifting over on your other side.  Carefully, he slides in next to you, placing an arm over your waist and tucking you close. 

"Better?"  He murmurs near your ear.

You relax, letting out a breath that rattles against where Simon's hand is tucked under your side—holding your injury.  His thumb brushes your skin in a light rhythm.

"Yeah…"  you reply.  "Better."

A moment of silence passes.  For a while, Simon thinks you might be asleep again, and his eyes begin to sink shut as well.  Right before a calm dark blankets his senses, though, your voice reaches his ears again.

"I'm sorry," you murmur, voice muffled by his clothes as you shift to be more comfortable.

“Hm?”

"For arguing," you reply, shutting your eyes again.  Warm now, you seem to melt in his arms, your shivering subsiding in his grasp.  "But also…everything else."

There it is again.  The sinking pain in his chest.  "Don't."

"Hm?"

"Don't apologize," he tugs the blanket a little more over your shoulders.  "Don't ever apologize for all o'that."

You fall quiet after that.  He's anxious now, keeping you tucked close to him—feeling the warmth radiate from your skin and the gentle beating of your heart against your damaged ribs.

You say something muffled and Simon sighs into your shoulder.  "Speak up."

"I'm not gonna die," you repeat to him, barely a whisper.  "Promise."

He purses his lips together.  You sound genuine, and your reassurance eases his racing mind a little—but his anxiety and aching heart persist, anyway.  His arm squeezes you a little tighter.  "Not gonna let you, love."

"Still," you murmur.  "Just thought I'd remind you."

He takes a steadying breath, deep and shaky as he gathers his bearings.  Instead of talking, he thinks.  Thinks about the past few years since you've both talked.  Thinks about Camp Viking, the first taste of peace Simon has had in decades.  How you're easily one of the few people who could ease his mind and body just by being.

Simon feels your breathing slow again, feels your shivers subside.  He presses his face into where your shoulder meets your neck and relishes in this moment—holding you again.  Protecting you again.  Letting you feel safe enough to relax your shoulders, your mind.  Allowing you to be weak, allowing you to feel loved.

It’s then that he realizes he doesn’t want to be alone anymore.

It's like you had lodged a knife in his heart eight years ago; giving him the choice to pull it out or sink it deeper, both effectively killing him.  Instead, he's only left it there to fester until the pain is only a whisper, only resurfacing when he can't sleep at night and the bed feels colder than usual.  He's grown used to the pain, used to the knife—just for you to come back and twist it, reminding him that after all these years it's still there.  

All these years—all the killing and blood and death—and his heart is still there.  Still beating.  He thinks, somehow, you might be the reason he suddenly wants to get better.  Try living again.

The thought keeps him up the rest of the night.

[moth-murdock]

A night to forget, and one to remember. (Matt Murdock x any reader)

masterlist

A/n: moth writes! Part two, electric boogaloo

Genre: fluff/comfort

Summary: you have a nightmare about your past, Matt comforts you

Warnings: mentions of past CSA, people being assholes about SA

Other tags: comfort, more domestic matt, nightmares, trauma recovery

Matt started to stir when he heard your breathing turn from regular sleep to fitful nightmares. They were uncommon for you, but you had told him before that there were dark parts of your past that you didn't want to go over at the time. He accepted that answer, not wanting to push you too soon.

Before he can wake you himself, your whole body jolts and you shrink in on yourself. He can taste the tears on your waterline, and the salt of sweat on your forehead.

"sweetheart?" He asks, his voice rough with sleep as you immediately try to put distance between you two

"what's going on?" He sounds more worried now, as he can hear your rapid, shallow breaths and your racing heart.

You scramble so much that you end up falling off the bed, hitting your ass on the hard floor below. Then, Matt hears the sound he hates most. You crying.

"I'm sorry-..." you apologize through soft sobs

"fuck, i'm sorry, I just-... I had a nightmare..." You explain as you crawl back into bed.

He instinctively wraps his arms around you, holding you close in an attempt to soothe you. It's what always works, so it's his default. But when he hears your heartbeat speed up even more and feels you tense up, he pulls back.

"Hey... talk to me... tell me what's wrong..." he urges softly, wanting so desperately to hold you in his arms and kiss away your tears but knowing that's not what you need right now.

You're hesitant, and for good reason. You've heard enough to know how most religious people judge "purity" and you don't want this to be something to scare him off. But you know you can't lie to him, especially not after this.

"Ok... um... when I was younger..." you start, closing your eyes so you don't see his face as you tell him about that night all those years ago, when someone you were supposed to be able to trust took advantage of your childhood innocence.

You don't open your eyes until you've finished telling him what happened, and how you still have occasional nightmares where you relive that night, but now actually knowing what's happening, unlike when you were a kid. When you finally do manage to open your eyes, you expect a few things. Disgust, contempt, and not to mention disappointment. but what you somehow didn't expect at all was sympathy, unwavering love, and compassion.

"... You're not... upset?" You ask cautiously, and the response makes your heart melt

"why in the world would I be upset?"

You start to give some excuse about why you should be valued less, but your protests are quickly silenced by a single finger to your lips

"listen to me. I don't care. It wasn't your fault. You didn't want it, why should I judge you for it?"

Four simple sentences. In four simple sentences, he had calmed your worries, insured his love for you, and made you cry again for a different reason. All your life, you were told that it was your fault. You should have said no. That nothing could be said to defend you because you had agreed to it.

As if he had read your mind, he speaks again.

"you were a kid. You didn't know what was happening. And you were supposed to be able to trust them. Anyone who puts you at fault is flat out wrong." He says firmly

"but-"

"but nothing, Angel... Can I?" He asks, searching for your hand. You meet him halfway, gently putting your hand in his. Normally after a nightmare, you feel disgusting. You want to throw up, and you scrub yourself raw in the shower to try and get rid of the phantom hands all over your body. But tonight? You don't feel any of that. Sure, you're shaking, but it's because you have never felt so loved and accepted after opening up.

"You are perfect. What happened doesn't define you. Don't let anyone tell you any different. I love you. No matter what." He murmurs as he holds you close, petting your hair and placing kisses on your forehead, cheeks, nose, and lips.

He continues to whisper soft words of affirmation and reassurance until you fall asleep again, and when you wake the next morning, he's still holding you.

[written-in-flowers]

The Places Between Us: The Undead Soldier: (OT8 x Fem!Reader)

Pairing: Song Mingi x Fem!Reader | Side pairings: Hongjoong x Fem!Reader, Ateez x Reader.

Genre: Smut, angst, fluff | AU: fantasy!au,

Word Count: 6k

Summary: Carted away by Mingi like a prized lion, YN is taken through the dangerous woodlands of the North. Through lycan infested lands, General Mingi is generous. Very generous.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Overall Tags: dub-con, mind control, enslavement, kidnapping, forced breeding, monster fucking, sex work, mentions/implications of abuse, mentions/implications of SA, stockholm syndrome, public sex, exhibitionism, humiliation, degradation, breeding kink, bigdick!Seonghwa, bigdick!Yunho, DoubleDick!Yunh, face fucking, throat fucking, undead sex, sex w/ undead, belly bulge, anal sex, anal fingering, vaginal sex, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, squirting/vaginal ejaculation, slight size kink (height wise), overstimulation, facials, cum swallowing, choking, dom!ateez, sub!reader, tit fucking, sex toys, bondage, multiple partners, threesome, orc!jongho, naga!seonghwa, demon!hongjoong, dragon!yunho, undead!mingi, goblin!yeosang, lycan!san, lycan!wooyoung.

Taglist: @binniesbabe @stay-tiny-things @oiminho @babymbbatinygirl @sopematesxx @pirana10 @juicyjaxxy @corgilover20 @kinkymaminicole @londonbridges01 @readerofallthingss @dvbkie099 (if you want to be tagged for future chapters, let me know in the replies)

Part 2: The Dragon Prince < | > Part 4: The Lycan Brothers

****

You woke up in your bedroom again. The smell of chamomile came faintly off the sheets and pillows, and you knew who was beside you. 

“Morning, love,” he rolled onto his side, eyes still closed as he pulled you close. 

“Morning.”

The both of you laid naked, entangled in one another like snakes. His lips, plush and warm, pressed to your cheek, then made their way to your lips. The whole thing might have been a terrible dream, and this was reality. You snuggled into Hongjoong further, nuzzling him and pecking his lips. 

“Come back to me,” you heard yourself whisper. “Please, come find me.”

“I will,” he pushed black strands from his face, then kissed you. “I promise.” 

“I don't know how much of this I can take.”

“You're tough. You'll make it.”

“This is different. This thing…I feel like it's stripping away everything I am. I feel nothing but tired and sore afterwards. It takes only a small suggestion before I'm dying for it. I don’t know if I will….What if you don't come in time or it somehow progresses and I lose it completely?”

“That isn't going to happen,” he assured you. “I am coming for you, YN. I will never leave you to suffer like this…” he cupped your cheek and kissed you. “Things haven't gone how we planned, but we adapt. We work with it. Please, don't worry. I have a way or two of fixing the worst parts of the curse. You might even start welcoming it.”

“I doubt that.”

“Well, you never know. You seem to really enjoy Mingi and his sentient hands.”

You turned away shyly. Yes, the Undead general might have grown on you since you started your journey. The cage, you learned, was more to keep his men out than to keep you in. He didn't force himself upon you, only doing it when you asked him to help relieve your symptoms. He did the bare minimum, but it was still better than the last two. 

“We'll be together soon. I promise.”

The soft circling sensation gently roused you from sleep. You tried finding the exact source of the reaction, but your hazy brain couldn’t find it. A faint chill brushed over exposed parts, which made the warmth more noticeable. You rolled over onto your side in the bed of hay, but the hardness remained latched to you. Long digits slid across your sex, making circular motions over the bare lips. Another mass stayed on your exposed breast, rubbing its palm against your hard nipple. The two sides combined to stoke the mark in your back. 

“Did you not get enough last night?” you giggled sleepily, grinding into the hand between your legs. 

The lower hand answered by rapidly rubbing your clit with its thumb. You muffled your moans with your tunic, which had come undone while you slept. Your excitement boiled when the one on your chest scurried to your ass, gripping the cheek before you pulled one side to let it further in. It circled the tight ring in time with its partner, which started prodding a finger in by the second knuckle. Pleasure burns your entire body, bringing on a slight heat even in the chilly atmosphere outside the cage. You couldn't stop yourself from grinding into them both. You became nearly dizzy from their teasing. 

“Ooh, just like that,” you breathed when a finger went into your ass, filling both holes. “Yes, both ends…good boys…keep going like-ah, yes, please, one more…”

Two fingers met each other inside you, and you already felt yourself shaking. You barely registered the cage door creaking open or the footsteps coming your way. Looking over your shoulder, you saw Mingi kneeling behind you….

Minus his head…

“Managed to get away too, hm?” you giggled breathily. 

One of the hands instantly grabbed his throbbing cock to tap on your ass. Lacking the mortality of normal men, Mingi did not feel warm at all. Every part of him shocked your hot skin whenever he touched you. It added a new feeling that made you wriggle in his grasp. It became more noticeable when the hand on your cunt brought his tip to your entrance. The left hand having nowhere to go crawled up to your face and you accepted two fingers into your mouth. Your moans went around the lukewarm digits as Mingi slowly pushed his cock inside. Being full in all three entrances was like a dream. You pathetically mewled and rocked in all ways to get more pleasure out of it. You could honestly get used to this. 

“Ugh, there you are!” Mingi’s voice came from somewhere below. “I've been looking for you everywhere.” 

Pink tentacles helped Mingi slither into the cage. He'd told you when he drowned at sea, an octopus made its home in his skull. It was the only thing keeping his head attached to his body. He hid his smirk when he saw what the rest of him was up to. 

“A nice way to wake up, huh?” He smirked when you nodded, an answer muffled by his fingers. “I had trouble getting away from a meeting,” he came closer, “But I couldn't stop thinking about last night.” One tentacle reached up to wipe hair from your face, “You did so well, and didn't waste a single drop. I thought you'd tire after the third round, but you surprised me. I've only ever seen an Undead go that long.” 

The tentacle left your hair for your chest, sliding between body and floor to encompass your breasts. The slimy, cold tendril lightly squeezed them while the suction cups latched to your skin. You took full advantage of the appendages filling and caressing you by haphazardly pushing into them. The fingers in your ass stayed fully to the last knuckle, only pushing and pulling once in a while as his cock pounded your wet sex. Another tentacle reached down and you cried out when it started mercilessly flicking your clit. 

“Lay on your back,” Mingi ordered, “And keep those legs wide open.”

His hands moved away to let you roll onto your back. Your hips moved around as the emptiness became more pronounced. You would've reached down to your clit if Mingi didn't get there first. Tentacles wrapping around your thighs, he pressed his face right to your center and started rolling his tongue around it. Unable to shake him off, you could only buck around as he slurped and sucked your clit relentlessly upside down. You breathed deeply when his body pushed his dick back inside; you put his hands on your chest, which they delightfully started grabbing and teasing. The overwhelming pleasure turns your mind blank. You could only comprehend the sensations building in you: Mingi’s cold tongue on your clit sent sparks to the core where his hard tip pushed until you saw stars. The thumbs brushing over your nipples was like throwing kindling into a blazing fire. You never wanted it to end. It was the most enjoyable thing you'd ever felt and you immediately understood why Yunho’s wives loved entertaining him. 

Mingi’s hunger grew when your walls tightened around him. He flicked his tongue on your pussy sideways as he picked up the pace. Unable to move away, you were forced to come. Your moans filled the cage, your orgasm strong and causing your body to tremble on the wooden floor. You chased down your climax, savouring the sweet bliss his touches brought. As it came down, Mingi only lifted your legs further up and charged deeper. You grabbed his broad shoulders, fingers digging into the cloth sleeves of his shirt and to his stiff skin, needing to hold onto him. 

“Cum in me,” you panted, trying to push up into him but not by much. “Fill me with your cum, please. Please, please?”

“Oh, you want my cum, huh?” Mingi said, his voice causing a slight vibration on your clit. 

“Yes, yes, please!”

“Cum for me again, and I'll give you every drop.”

His hands snapped back to his empty wrists in soft clicks: his head left your sex and slid back up his body to the empty neck hole. Fully put together, Mingi turned you around before bringing you back onto him. Hands holding fistfuls of hard straw, knuckles pressing into the floor, you used it to steady yourself as you began riding him. Mingi’s deep, low groans mingled with yours each time you grinded and whirled your hips with him inside you. You swore his cock, thick and long, snaked around in time with you and twitched against your g-spot. Head tilting back, you thought you might be on fire. The strain on your muscles burned and ached, but the mark on your back kept you going. A driving force of desperate need drove you to lifting and lowering your hips despite the struggle. Nothing ever felt this good. Nothing ever made you feel as complete as having something buried in you. How could you want to get rid of this feeling when it brought so much joy and pleasure? 

“The best view I’ve ever had,” Mingi groaned, landing a few swats to your ass cheeks. “You look so good just like this. You’re gonna stay like this as long as I want.” 

“Ye-yes,” you huffed, whimpering when he kept smacking your backside. “Can I ride it like this all day? Don’t le-leave. Just stay here and let me have-have your dick.”

“I like the sound of that.” 

When he pulled them apart, you hoped he’d slide a digit or two inside, but he didn’t. He only rolled, kneaded and spanked them. It wasn’t until you felt something shift to your left that you turned your head. On the edge of the cage sat your crow. You knew it was yours by how strange it acted. The shaking of the cage did not startle or cause it to fly off. It remained firmly planted as its black eyes looked at you. The sneaking suspicion this was not a regular crow crossed your mind, but you couldn’t focus on it for too long. Mingi’s head slammed right into your center at a mind-numbing feeling, and you started shaking again. You leaned forward when his hands lifted and spread your cheeks, giving him a good view of his dick sliding in and out of you. 

The crow bounced a little further down as if wanting a look itself. Hongjoong liked watching sometimes, you knew. He’d hide in your closet while you worked, silently jerking off in private until you finished. Then he’d shove himself in your mouth and down your throat, muttering degrading words as you swallowed his load. You wished he were there now. You pictured his dark eyes observing you from the corner, his hand wrapped around his stiff erection, and mouth hanging open in his groans. Mingi might be good, but nobody made you feel how Hongjoong did. You’d do anything to please him. You went to lengths you’d never do for any other man, not even if they paid, but you did for him. 

“Stay still, stay still,” Mingi huffed, breaths turning into higher whines as he started pushing up into you. 

Soon, cold globs spilled your sex and you stayed firmly planted to let him finish. It was a strange feeling every time, even now that you expected it. You yelped and giggled when more came. It tingled, and you rocked your hips with hopes of getting more.

Like he’d promised, Mingi didn’t stop. He took you in various positions, an Undead soldier who could go for hours without tiring at all. Your body began wavering, every muscle growing stiff and sore from the exertion, and your mind numbing to the pleasure. Only the crow saw you slowly spiral into the drooling wreck your curse will soon make you permanently. You didn’t know what time it was or where you’d gone when Mingi finally pulled out of you. 

“You’re incredible,” he huffed, eyes closed as he laid beside you. “I wish I could keep you.”

“You won’t be?”

“No,” he shook his head, “Sadly not. I’m taking you to the Grey Lands until Lord Kim can come get you.”

‘The Grey Lands?”

“Some people call it the Graveyard or Deadville,” he said in a bored voice, “But it’s home. It’s near the Crescent Mountains where he lives, so it’s the most sensible place for you to be. If I want some favor with Kim, I think bringing him his special pet will get it for me.” 

“Favor?”

“Yeah,” he rolled onto his side, “I might be a general but I get restrictions too. I want to go on leave before the war, and I can only do that with his help. If I take care of you, he’ll see you’re safe and he’ll give me anything I want.”

“Why can’t you just ask?”

“He’d have to open the portal between the living and the afterlife,” he said, “And that’s a big ask of him.”

“What makes you think he’d do it?”

He smiled at you, “Because he’s been looking for you since Yunho kidnapped you.”

This caught your attention, “How do you know that?”

“Isn’t it obvious? You have his brand on you. You’re carrying his curse, so obviously he must have some use for you. I would’ve thought it’d be gifting you to someone, but clearly that’s not it. I figured I’d give you back, then get what I asked for.” 

“I guess that’s a good plan.” 

Fuzziness and pain kept you from putting pieces together. You laid in the hay bed, sprawled out naked and feeling lukewarm semen leaking to the floor. The sweat started chilling on your skin, and you shivered from the cold. 

“It’s a good plan, I won’t lie. I might give it to him when I have you in my arms again.” 

“General,” an Undead soldier came up to the cage carrying a tiny scroll in his skeletal fingers, “A message from Command.”

“Leave it on my desk,” he said, sliding to you and kissing your cheek. “I’m enjoying my pet right now.”

“I’m afraid it cannot wait, sir,” he replied. “It’s from Lord Kim personally. It has his seal.” 

Mingi shot right up, pushing black hair from his face and trying to hide the panic. “Give it here,” he reached through the bars to take the scroll. 

He moved away from you. The soldier’s eyes fell on your sweaty, naked body and you turned away in shame. The soldiers took to watching whenever Mingi entered your cage. Not needing to breathe much, they hid in the shadows like ghosts and watched. Their pale eyes glowed in the darkness, sending chills down your spine. You recalled last night when a whole group watched on, stroking themselves and groaning. The sight of their bluish sperm leaking onto the floor intrigued and disgusted you. You grabbed your tunic to cover yourself from him, but he did not look away from you.

“Good…” you heard Mingi mutter under his breath, “Good…Exactly as I planned it…I had no idea you were this special to him, though. Normally, he allows the suffering to continue.”

“I, um, suppose, sir?” The soldier gulped, moving closer to get a better look at you. You shifted away. “General, the men and I were wondering when you wish to press onward. We’re walking through Lycan territory, and the packs here don’t take kindly to outsiders.”

“I’ve never known my men to be afraid of a bunch of dogs.”

“They’re hardly dogs, sir.” 

“Get ready to move, then. His Lordship says he’ll meet us at home base,” he said, rereading his letter. “You, get up and get dressed,” he said to you hurriedly, “Come with me.” 

After waiting for you to put on your tunic, he grabbed your arm and tugged you out of the wagon. He paraded you through the encampment, his comrades groaning in delight as you passed them. Their whispers and chuckling reached your ears, and you stared at the ground. You knew they remembered last night. Visions of it made you sick. The curse warped your mind, burrowing all kinds of thoughts into you. You know soon enough you will not care if they watch or not. You will be so gone, you'd want them to join and feed the never ending hunger. They likely knew this too, and you trembled. 

Mingi’s tent was the largest, though very bare inside. A cot put to the side with a trunk, he had a table of maps and documents with writing utensils. He kept his armor on a chair, with his weapons leaning against it. It was a long sword with a bone handle, and a shield with a crow. You stared at the shield as he began rifling through his trunk. It was fully black, its wings outstretched under a crescent moon. Dark winds flapped overhead, brushing your head lightly and you saw your crow perch on the edge of the square shield. You approached him with a weak smile, plopping into a seat beside it. Stroking his head, you fed it some seeds. 

“Ugh, I think I'm dead, bud,” you sighed, eyes falling closed. “Everything hurts. This thing will be the end of me for sure.” You studied the shield, “Is this you?” you tapped the crow. “Nah, I doubt it. It'd be funny if it was though.”

“Who are you talk-” Mingi stood, holding an old book, and paused when he saw the crow. “How did he get in here?”

“He flew, obviously,” you stretched, then winced from the pain. “Is the big bad general afraid of birds?” you teased, giggling at his apprehension. 

“That one? Yes. Has he been following you this whole time?”

“I think so? I mean, what are the odds I'm meeting a crow everywhere I go?” You stroked his feathers lightly. “I don't mind it. He's alright, and good company.” You saw the book in his hand, and said, “What’s with the book?”

“Your curse is worsening,” Mingi noted as he put the book down. With a wave of his hand, a bottle and a bag of herbs floated out of the trunk and on his desk. “You used to have reservations. Now they’re breaking. Soon, you’ll be humping anything in sight.”

“As I've been hearing all the time,” you said, shifting as a stinging pain shot through you. “It isn't so bad in the moment. The pain after is the bitch though.”

“Exactly. It’s taking its toll on your body and your mind,” he said. “His Lordship has asked me to-yes, perfect! It’s right here!” He skimmed through a page in the book, “I forgot he’d given this to me. It should be here.”

“What should be? The spell to lift it?” 

“Oh, he'd never divulge that kind of magic to me,” he chuckled, “This will make it more enjoyable versus painful. He must like you a lot if he actually cares about the effects. It's strange. Normally that's the entire point of The Hand of Lust. Curses are supposed to be bad…Get on the cot,” he said. 

“This will make it go away?” you asked hopefully, laying on his soft bed. The pain in your body radiated, almost throbbing like a heartbeat. “Please tell me it will.”

“The curse? No. The pain? Yes,” he replied, snapping his fingers. Right away, the herbs floated into the bowl where a pestle started crushing them. 

He lifted your tunic over your stomach. The sudden exposure tingled your mark, and you nearly sobbed. Not again. You just finished. You couldn't take it anymore. The soreness intensified each time your clit throbbed, the vulnerability alone arousing you. The urge to reach out for his groin came to you, and you writhed on the bed. You squeezed your eyes shut, keeping your hands close to your chest. This turned out to be a mistake, because the slight brush on your breast caused a ripple. It felt stiff, and ached when you brushed it a second time. Yet, you wanted Mingi to wrap his lips around it. You wished he'd unstick his hand and shove his fingers back inside you one more time. 

“Mingi, please, do something,” you whined, clutching the covers. “It aches all over…” Twisted on the bed, the urge flaring and you brushed it again. The connection between the sensitive spot and your cunt made it throb, which brought tears to your eyes. Your hips rocked for friction, but only found the air.

The past two days on the road were a blend of pleasure and pain. Whenever Mingi entered your cage, you felt nothing but hungry lust. It was like joining a feast where you kept eating even if you’d gotten full. The time between each round became shorter; your body yearning for his touch even after everything in you begged for an end. At times, you came onto him, grabbing parts of him to keep in the cage and use as you liked. You assumed this was the curse’s control over your mind at play. Namjoon said you’d soon be unable to stop yourself. You feared the day that happened, where your choices will be stripped from you and you’d hunger for nothing but that physical satisfaction.

“My friend told me there was no counter-curse,” you whimpered, eager to lift your tunic off to soothe the heat rising up around your neck.

“Yes, because he likely didn’t know it,” said Mingi. “I’ve studied the magical arts for hundreds of years, YN. I’m sure I know things that your little townie friend doesn’t.” He finally landed on the right page, and let the book levitate beside him. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before. I highly enjoy fucking your brains out, but I do feel guilty at the end result. You’re always in so much pain after, and my salves and potions cannot be used too often.”

“Psh, tell me about it.”

You weren’t fond of the purple, lumpy healing potions Mingi fed you whenever you finished. It was meant to clear your mind, but after two days of constant consumption, it now made you vomit. The salves, the iridescent sticky paste, brought on rashes if constantly used. It began another weight of suffering for you to bear. 

You laid flat on the bed, eyeing Mingi’s hands as they dipped into the bowl beside him. The golden oil peppered with the crushed leaves dripped from his fingers and onto your thighs. The mere feeling of the thin droplets sliding down your skin beckoned your arousal. He scooped more to drizzle over your swollen, sore lips and you let out a soft moan.

“Mingi…please, don’t,” you sobbed, tears streaming from your temples into your hair.

“It’ll only hurt for a moment. I need you to stay still and quiet for me, okay?” he said in the gentle, comforting tone he’d used after sex.

He began muttering in a rough, foreign language you couldn’t understand, occasionally glancing at the book in front of him. Long fingers danced over your body, not reacting to your constant shaking as you pictured them all over you again. Soon, you bit down on your lower lip to suppress a scream when he touched you. Rough hands slid down and within your inner thighs, the massage easing your sore muscles but enticing your curse. You tightly shut your eyes when his thumbs pressed to the sides of your cunt, rubbing the thin oil into the folds starting to dampen at his touch.

Mingi did not seem affected by this change. His pale eyes remained concentrated on his work, which you felt grateful for at least. Mingi did not enjoy your suffering as he’d have his men believe. He treated you so gently since you’d been on the road: making sure you were clean, well fed and comfortable in your little cage. He comforted you with stories of his adventures late at night, stroking your hair and placing kisses where he could. He’d been the nicest of the men you’d met so far. It was you who constantly teased and allured him. You had a sense Lord Kim’s influence and constant watching kept him from doing anything too painful to you.

Unable to break his incantation, you weren’t warned when he slid two fingers inside. You shook your head involuntarily, the tears of your entrance stinging at the substance coating them and sobbed harder. The curse made it enjoyable, but your pain heavily outweighed it. He kept the movement slow and thorough, making sure to get every crevasse he could before sliding back out. You took several deep breaths to ease the painful stinging, almost as if trying to become one with the pain. However, after a few minutes, the pain there ceased all at once.

“Better?” He asked, hands sliding up your body to your breasts.

“Yes.”

He dropped more fragrant oil over your chest, the thin oil sliding off them to the curves before he went to work. The oil made his movements slippery and smooth, stimulating the painful itching in your nipples. He muttered another long incantation as his thumbs went in circles, starting from the center and moving to the wrinkled areolas. Then, he massaged both of them with his full palms. The ache did not pain you as much here, causing more pleasure as he started further up to your shoulders and then your arms. His hands worked like magic. They relieved every dull ache, lifting off the heaviness in your muscles and bones. He did not grip too hard, but applied enough pressure to work it out of you.

When he flipped you onto your front, you felt yourself floating on clouds. The calming scent coming off your skin and the incense combined with Mingi’s hands pushed out every thought in your head. You nearly forgot where you were. Even when he spilled more oil onto your buttocks, immediately spreading it as he kneaded them, you barely registered it. You only whimpered when he drizzled more between them, likely taking a moment to watch it trickle down before using his thumbs to alleviate the stinging.

“Oops,” he said, his thumb happening to push past the rim and inside you, “Sorry. It’s just so slippery,” he didn’t withdraw the digit but instead started pushing and pulling, “And your body is so pliable now. It’s as if it wants me in there…”

“Mingi,” his name came out in a soft sigh.

Your body did not fight him off. The tiny bit of pressure blossomed into pleasure rather than pain. You snuggled into the pillow, arms wrapped under it as he removed his thumb. More oil dripped down your back as he straddled your thighs and worked on your shoulders. Though, you noticed a certain hardness poking your ass whenever he leaned forward. You wanted him to pull it out to stuff in you, whichever hole he wanted, they both felt prepared enough.

“It’ll still affect your mind, and your body will tire after a time,” he said. “I sadly cannot lift it from you completely, but this must be a bit of a reprieve, right?”

“Yes,” you nodded, eyes closed to savor the sensations. “Yes, it is.”

“How about we test it out?” he suggested, though he knew your answer. “I’ve never done this before. I want to know if it works properly.”

“Mmm, please.”

With a bit of shifting, Mingi withdrew his cock and pressed the head to your dripping sex. You clutched the underside of the pillow, moaning into the soft cotton inside as he traced it. Your mark still burned, but your body did not. It felt more relaxing than frustrating. He kept himself up on one hand as he slid the other between the mattress and your tits. The gentle squeeze mixed with his head splitting you open deepened your need for his full length. Mingi then kept you trapped underneath him with his body laying on top of yours, hands grabbing your nipples as he fully plunged in your pussy. His low grunts matched your whiny moans, the both of you slowly diving further into bliss as the tension built up.

“Fuck,” he breathed in your ear, “I swear that oil made your pussy even better than before. You’re so much tighter and warmer.”

His cold cock didn’t affect you like before, becoming more desirable to you than intimidating. His hands felt like cooling ice balls instead of prickling icicles. It did not warm up even as he started thrusting faster and harder, hitting the deepest part of you each time so you saw fireworks. Mingi knew your body by now, and eagerly chased down the orgasm he sensed at the end. You prayed he gave it soon. His own twitching cock let you know he was barely hanging on, and you purposefully clenched to milk him. His come. His cold, sticky, sweet come that he’d pumped into every hole you offered the previous two nights became your goal. You imagined him filling each one again, forcing it inside you until you were leaking all over.

He grinned above you when your body spasmed. He continued the same pace and played with your nipples as you came around him. It was better than anything. His sheets bundled underneath you, they acted as a specific friction to your clit and you came harder. His moans starting to elongate and deepen, you begged him to finish in you again so he did.

“Cum in me,” you begged breathily, “Cum deep in me. Please, Mingi, please fill me up, please.”

“Trust me,” he replied through gritted teeth, “I’m going to give you every single load.”

He shuddered, moans turning into faint, cracked gasps as he pulsed in every stroke. You whimpered at the cum spraying your insides again, enjoying the chilly sensation instead of recoiling. Like before, once Mingi finished, you wanted to go again and he didn’t stop you. Laying on the opposite end of the bed, he watched you ride him once more, holding onto your bouncing tits the entire time. You knew how much he liked them, and didn’t hesitate to hover them over his lips. The little cot squeaked in each movement, only encouraging the both of you to match the sound it made. Nothing else penetrated your thoughts except getting more of him. It became your singular thought as Mingi had you in other ways; he came inside you every time, forcing his come in your throat, your ass or your cunt whenever he orgasmed. Without the physical pain to distract you, you couldn’t stop yourself from enjoying him.

As the crow near the bed looked on…

****

You laid in Mingi’s bed, your entire being a pool of jelly on the sweaty sheets. The hazy euphoria of your final orgasm left you feeling light-headed. The curse’s magic still lingered inside you, but you were able to fight it off this time. You kept a tight lid on it as you watched Mingi, unbothered by the exertion, pull his clothes and armor back on. Despite being a walking corpse, Mingi appeared well put together aside from his hands and head. You saw unhealed wounds on his torso and arms, dead muscles having turned black and bloodless. It must’ve been like cutting paper; nothing to show but dead flesh. Years of fighting on battlefields and sparring with his men shaped out Mingi’s lean figure, appearing to have more muscle on his old bones. It was when he turned around that you saw the same crow-and-moon symbol on his left shoulder blade.

“That symbol,” you said, resting on your front, “What does it mean?”

“It’s Lord Kim’s mark,” he answered, pulling a cotton shirt over it. “We all bear his sigil on our bodies somewhere. It’s a sign of our loyalty to him. He did raise us from the dead, after all.”

“Why?”

“He needed an army.”

“For what?”

“Well, YN, every lord has some kind of army to defend his lands.”

“But people say he’s a demon. Aren’t demons supposed to be all powerful?”

“They are and he is, but he can only do so much on his own. Every magic being has their limitations,” he said. Stepping into his trousers, he pulled them to his narrow hips as he said, “Not to mention, he needed one to stop the former Northern King from destroying the rest of us.”

“Former Northern King?”

“Yes, King Argos. He was a total prick,” he scoffed. “He starved his people. He raised high taxes on the magical races and demanded they pay tribute to him in order to keep their homelands. He was the one who pushed the Naga off the mainland and into the Caper Islands. He’s the reason the Dragonites keep to themselves, and only have their volcano range now. The goblin and fae races were almost wiped out when he took over their lands. The man was a damn colonizer,” he said, eyes narrowed. “He’d force his own religion and ideology on the people there; his soldiers put up encampments and forts, their constant presence a reminder of our subservience to them. Not to mention all the things he stole: The Naga’s golden throne, several priceless inventions from the goblins, magical artifacts from the fairies, and all the resources he could find.” You saw anger flare in his milky eyes, the memories pouring back into him like water. “The magical races were slaves to humans for generations before Lord Kim appeared. He…He became our savior. He came with his beasts-”

“-Beasts? What beasts? You mean like the octopus Seonghwa has?”

“Bigger and worse,” Mingi answered. “Cora, The Kraken, was used to knock out Argos’s naval ships. The Wyvern, Aerion, turned his camps and forts to ashes. The Minotaur, Cerebus, and the Chimera joined in various battles on land. They’re huge, nasty and vicious beasts that only serve Him. No man or magicfolk alive could defeat them.”

Hearing the word ‘Kraken’ brought back a faded, dark memory. Closing your eyes, you thought back to when you had crashed. You remembered the encompassing, suffocating water filling your lungs, limbs starting to fail as pressure squeezed your lungs, when something caught hold of you. Large dark eyes glowing at you from the abyss. Long tentacles wrapping around you easily. The swiftness and strength it used to carry you through the ocean and up onto land. Thinking about them rattled your bones, and you hugged your pillow tighter.

“Anyway, he came with his beasts and magic to destroy Argos’s tyranny for good,” he continued. “He liberated them one by one. He gave the races back their lands and helped those who needed it to rebuild. He became the new Northern King, though I personally believe he doesn’t see himself as a king.”

“Seonghwa mentioned only letting Yunho onto his island because of him.”

“Yes, the Naga and Dragonites have been at each other’s throats for centuries. Don’t ask me why, nobody really knows anymore,” he added quickly. “It’s an old feud that started with their ancestors and it’s gotten passed down since then. But, His Lordship needs them to finally work together or at least be civil with each other. Their fighting has cost lots of lives and lands. He can only let it go on for so long before they’ve destroyed half the land.”

“And they listen to him?”

“Everyone does. He’s wise and old. Plus, they both owe him debts that can never be repaid.”

Rolling onto your back, sleepiness starting to take over, you imagined the intimidating figure living atop a cold mountain.

“Does he have a name?” you asked.

“I’m sure he does, but nobody knows what it is.”

“How come?”

“I don’t know,” he said rather thoughtfully, tying his vest as he wondered. “I guess nobody has asked or he’s never offered it? Everyone I know has always called him ‘Lord Kim’ or ‘His Lordship’ or ‘His Excellency’. We'll be seeing him in The Grey Lands, so you can ask then. You know, when you’re done sucking him off or something.”

“My friend told me only he can lift my curse. Would he…Would he do it if I asked?”

Mingi didn’t answer right away. His eyes looked over at the crow jumping around on the ground, pecking into the dirt, then back at you. 

“I don’t know.”

“I had a runestone to trade for it, but I lost it when the boat went under,” you frowned, recalling the small stone with its strange mark on the side. “They said I could use it as a payment.” 

“A runestone might’ve worked for a lesser demon, but he doesn’t need runestones. He has plenty.”

“Then what would he want?”

“That’s easy: you, lovely.” 

You dreaded what that meant. This ‘Lord Kim’ might not lift your curse at all and make you his mindless sex slave. It weighed down your high with fear, and you curled into a ball. He won’t save you. He’d likely enjoy your torment considering you’re human. A demon who took down an entire human army and their king likely has no love for them. He’ll like having you as a slave. You shut your eyes to let the exhaustion sink you into your dreams. 

“I'd never make you my slave, love. If anything, I'm yours.”

Yet, before you could fully go under, shouting came from outside the tent.

****

A/N: Uh-oh, what the hell's happening now? Well, at least she's gotten some kind of relief. Thanks for reading this chapter, and the lovely comments you guys leave me <3 Remember to reblog and like <3

[just-some-random-blogger]

im sorry babes but im begging you. Can we have a pedro pascal x reader fic where she's like a vlogger/lawyer and its like a fanmade video of them on yt of them being crackheads and being all lovey-dovey. like libra x aries vibes they balance each other out sm. you don't have to really but i genuinely feel like you're the only person who can pull this off.

Talk To My Lawyer

Every time Pedro gets asked something he can't answer, he always says the same thing.

Pedro Pascal x Lawyer!Reader | 600< | cw: gender neutral!reader, fluff, crack, rpf, typos, etc.

A/N: i didnt use and pronouns for yn besides you so anyone can read! ALSO this took forever, but im glad I finally did it. I hope you enjoy this nonnie! it's not exactly like the request but its pretty funny lmao

Tagging: @sloanexx @amis-love-bugs @top1bbgloak @sunfairyy @djarinsstuff @mooniesyubi @pedropascalgirly @mmmmandoz @multifandom-fangirl4

X - (Formerly Twitter) - verse

@hotnewsoutlet: Pedro Pascal announces marriage to Civil Rights Lawyer with heartfelt Instagram post. @gigigogold1: PEDRO IS MARRIED? @linmanuzel: PEDRO IS MARRIED? (2) @HOTdigitidawg: PEDRO IS MARRIED? (3) @103840582duh: ??????????????????????????????????? QUE @pedropascaldad: TO A MOTHER FUCKING LAWYER 💀💀💀✋✋✋ @pedropascaldad: OF COURSE THE LAWYER LOOKS LIKE A SUPERMODEL TOO HAHAHAHAHHAAHAHA *jumps off a plane*

@papipascalyuh: ok but if pedro was gonna get married ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ hell yeah itd be someone who looks like THAT holy fuck

@80pascal: ?????????????????????????????????????? UR TELLING ME THIS LAYWER IS NOT ONLY HOT BUT SMART AND FUNNY TOO????? [article link attached] @biwohla: 💀💀💀💀💀 NO CUZ THE LEVEL OF UNHINGED??? FROM A LAWYER???? INFUCKINGSANE @marvelwhorebb: "... I made sure to wear the Pedro Pascal T-shirt I made when we first announced our relationship. Gotta let the people know I'm one of them and simply got lucky." @atrediessucker: T-SHIRT *I MADE* SCREAMING WHATTTTTT

@djinssdjarrinn: OK IT HURTS BUT FUCK HES SO WHIPPED [video attached]

"How are you today?" asks the interviewer.

Pedro smiles and nods, "good, how are you?"

"I'm great, now that I got to see you," she says, making the man curl his head into his shoulder and grin.

Pedro waves a hand, "oh stapit"

She grins back, "I was excited when I saw you arrive with the internet's favorite lawyer."

His expression shifts, he brightens up. He places a hand on his chest, "me too! I'm so happy to have a date today. I always end up beggin' for some time, and now I got it-" fist pump "-y'know, not that I'm complainin'."

"Yeah, I was gonna sa-"

"I like begging." *Pedro smile.*

The interviewer doesn't quite catch it, "-y, the both of you are always booked and busy. How do you find time for each other?"

Pedro thinks, but is distracted when you walk up from behind him. He looks back when you place a hand on his shoulder. Immediately, he's forgotten all about the question and dotes on you. He brushes a hand on your cheek, asking you if you're okay. You whisper something but then catch the camera. You give a bashful smile, "oh, sorry to interrupt."

The interviewer immediately waves a hand, "oh, don't worry about it."

Pedro mutters something and kisses your hand. He holds it as he looks back to the interviewer. He opens his mouth then shakes his head, "sorry, what was the question?" Pedro laughs.

The woman chuckles then moves closer to you, "you know what, I'm sure people are dying to know, what's something you newlyweds like to do together?"

Pedro instantly turns to you.

You purse your lips in thought.

"I-"

"Watching movies," you say.

"I-" Pedro starts again, looking back to the interviewer, "I don't think we can say what we like to do."

*crickets*

Pedro looks at you, expression mischievous.

You stare back at him, eyes like daggers.

He holds back a laugh and leans into the mic, turning to the camera, "I can't say it. Talk to my lawyer."

The interviewer laughs and so do you, begrudingly.

"Talk to my lawyer," Pedro repeats proudly, breaking into a wide mouthed smile.

"Ok," you mutter, "pack it up, Pascal."

@alexielover: SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP BASHING MY HEAD AGAINST THE WALL WHAT THE FUCK @600MILK: MF SAID TALK TO MY LAWYER 🙄✋ SOBBING @oscarisaaacsz: watch him use that for everythingggggg 😭 @pedrogrill: LORD I HAVE SEEN WHAT YOU HAVE DONE FOR OTHERS @starwazfr: *sips clorox cutely* @emeryslala: and im supposed to sha la la baby after this? FOUL @pascpedro: respectfully, id pay to be their third @probelmaskt: PACK IT UP PASCAL???????????????????

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Immortal (Ghost x Medic!Reader Pt. 3)

"The path to paradise begins in hell."

— Dante Alighieri

Word count: 5.5 k

Summary: He knows now why he always returns to her. It's because he was injured. Badly, severely, life-threateningly injured – no, he was already deceased. What kind of a medic has the power to resurrect the dead? (Last part of Ghost stories.)

Tags/warnings: 18+ only. Angst, fluff, smut. Protective!Simon Ghost Riley. Graphic depictions of PTSD, suicidal thoughts and depression, mild violence. Emotional sex, love confessions, happy ending. Ghost POV.

"You can't come here, lieutenant. Not unless you're injured."

No one has ever scolded him.

He's the one who whips people into shape, who makes them recall who and where they are, that Task Force 141 is no place for fuckery. Now he's the one being reminded of his place. 

Somehow it's ok to bring her flowers before dinner, but ever since he started to bring her coffee to get an excuse to see her at work, she began to shut down. He can fuck her doggy style at her place, but if he so much as lifts his mask to kiss the back of her neck at her office, she bats him away like an annoying fly.

And he's fucking confused.

He thought he was doing the right thing. He thought that women like to be courted. Now he's standing in the middle of her apartment, waiting for… he doesn't even know what. Pardon, perhaps.

"Why do you always call me lieutenant?"

"Well I can't call you Simon at work, can I?"

She's chaste and decent. Has been like that for a while now, retreating back to her role of a distant professional. 

Something's troubling her, and he tries to get to the bottom of it. Tries his best to cheer her up, even if it's absurd that someone like him attempts to do that.

"Y'could use the alias."

"I'm not going to call you that."

She reads Virgil while making it clear that he's quite ridiculous. A ghost. It must remind her of a children's book rather than something stealthy and fatal; to her, it's a grown man's sad attempt to play a superhero.

"Did you come up with the name yourself?" Her voice has a whiff of irony as she finally spares him a glance from her hard-cover poetry.

"...No," he lies, too soon. Far too soon. She catches him on it, pants down.

"You're a silly, silly man." She shakes her head slowly and returns to her book. Last week, it was Dante who had better things to offer, far better things compared to him – such as a more poetic depiction of hell.

But even with the distant aura he can't quite pierce, she gives him a concept of what it would be like to have a home. A real home where you don't have to dread the evening and everything it brings out in people. Even when he was doing the SAS Fan Dance and lying on the cold ground to have a compulsory 2-hour shut-eye, he never missed home. The weather-beaten trail and a flapping tarp were still a cosier place than the one he'd left behind. 

The closest thing to an actual home was always solitude. A few days without routine. A cold shower in the morning to wake him, but not frigid enough to kill the erection. A good, unhurried fap and some stale spit circling down the drain. No one giving him a pitiful eye for tossing old takeaway in the bin and opening the cupboard only to be met with some canned food and table salt.

Now, the first thing in the morning is the sensation of her. Fingertips sneaking their way under his arm and ghosting his stomach, stirring him so softly he doesn't quite know if he's gone to heaven. Home is a sleepy nest and slow kisses followed by the sounds of brewing coffee. Home has become a place of mundane tasks: helping her water the plants and tasting whether the vanilla pudding she made has enough sugar. Changing sheets together, listening to the fitful sea as it breaks upon the shore. Watching how she reads of the Trojan War.

When he just stands there, admiring how her manicured nails glide over the pages, she talks to him again without raising her lashes from the book. 

"Did you need something?"

…You. All of you. 

Now and forever.

"Ya wanna go out to eat tonight?"

Finally, he grabs her attention. The distance between them is sewn up so fast even a jerk like him can understand he finally made the right fucking move.

"What about your… The mask?"

He shrugs.

"I thought you liked my cooking," she gives him a smile. Sly… Foxy.

"I do. But let me feed you for a change."

He sees in that stare and the way she purses her lips that she's trying to prevent a dirty joke from coming out of her pretty little mouth. As much as he appreciates that little cunning look, as much as he loves when that mouth gets a little dirty, he's more than serious now.

"Come on. Let me take you out."

"Well. If you insist," she smiles, shuts the book, and flies to her closet to pull out a stunner of a dress.

…..…..…..

Her fingertips always make his cock stir. They were supposed to go to sleep – a rare thing, to not slip inside her after a nice lil evening. To his surprise she starts to trace the few hairs on his stomach, threading through them as they thicken below. 

He can feel how she gets tense upon seeing that he's hard and heavy before she even reaches there. But she's not tense from anticipation.

"I overheard some of the guys talking about us. Or, well, me."

His cock gives a tug, and she still doesn't touch it.

"How I'm your luxury whore."

The curtain shifts as the wind plays with it: softly, while he's ripped out of the dark safety of the womb.

"Luxury…" She laughs, but it's bitter and thick. "Isn't it funny?"

He's hard now mainly because of the fury that rises. It ripples through his chest and pulls his stomach taut.

"Was it the rookie?"

He hears his voice from far away, from under the sea, but luckily, her hand brings him back. It's placed on him again, this time further up. She likes to trace the cavity between his pecs, pet the hair she finds there, too. Sometimes, she buries her face there and inhales his sweat, then uses that spot as her pillow. It's that very moment when he finds peace if he already hasn't by then.

"You don't have to defend my honour," the night speaks softly.

So, it was the rookie.

Nothing but a boy, younger than Soap and cockier than he was when he left Manchester with nothing but a duffel bag on his shoulder. Nothing but a boy, and she knows how boys are. She knows how boys talk. She wouldn't be in the Force if she took filthy quips seriously. 

But this is fucking different. The fantasies of what he'll do to the fucker when he gets back get sicker and more beautiful by the second.

"Just… don't come there anymore unless you're injured. Ok?"

He can't hear her because the vile word overrides even the gorgeous visions of torture. It gathers up his throat as bile, and he barely has time to take a deep breath to force it down before it's too late.

"I'm gonna go take a shower." 

"At this hour…?"

"Can't sleep anyway."

He reaches the bathroom just in time before the vomit flies. The power of it forces him on his knees, forces him to take hold of the door frame. Everything he fed to her shoots up, like it was only a dream that he could make her happy.

…Are you just here for sex?

Her shy question echoes from the tiles as another retch pulls the rest of his love out. 

He's sweating worse than the time they had to operate him in the field, back when a bullet had worked its way through the naked spot between the straps of his plate carrier. The shower washes some of it away, but the stench stays, the foul word and the insolence, all the shallow things he has given her coat the insides of his mouth no matter how many times he tries to spit it away. The water only does so much, and she's still not asleep by the time he returns to her. 

The luxury is waiting for him, silky and sweet. 

Wet, even, if he wants.

"Baby… Honey?"

Baby.

Baby.

He feels his guts in his throat again but swallows them down. She's beautiful, even when sad and sorry. Sorry, and for what? For him, instead of herself and what she's been called, the spite she has had to suffer simply for lying down in the filth with him. 

"Are you okay...?"

"Yeah."

He goes to her, pulls her in his arms, and hopes he doesn't smell of puke.

"They're just words. Right?"

I'm more than just your whore, right?

Her hand doesn't shy away from the sweat that breaks through his back. She's not afraid of him, even when he's the monster she never asked for. He can respect that kind of fearlessness. 

"You're awfully quiet," she tries. 

Baby, please don't go berserk, is what he hears.

"Go to sleep, pet," he calls forth his softest voice, relieved to notice it sounds more like a lullaby than a command. He allows her to kiss him, wondering if she can taste the grave. 

"Yes, sir," she breathes a soft smile in his mouth. Then she turns and coats herself with his arm. It must feel heavy around her, but she only gives a happy sigh. "I always sleep better with you. You feel so good… Safe."

He wonders how strange it is that love sometimes feels like pain. Her words come close to a knife slowly being pushed to his insides. They're still burning when she mutters the last essential thing, already half-asleep in his arms.

"They're just words, Simon…"

…..…..…..

He doesn't know much about poetry, but perhaps Dante was right. 

The heart of hell is not a fiery lake of torment but an icy, cold, stagnant place. There's nothing there. Everything is frozen: screams, thoughts, even dreams. 

He's walked through grey rubble and drenched asphalt, through alleyways of havoc and debris, he's trekked through desolate woodland and marsh. He's run through life like it's a day-to-day race to not get killed, but the worst of it isn't the bullets or the cold or the wind or the rain. It's the sleepless nights, the inertia. His soul in chains. On those nights, he wanted to get killed. 

And yet, he's not the only one who has suffered the unfortunate event of being dragged through every plane of hell. He's not the first man to go through the funnel, nor is he the last. It only looks bad in a society where he's supposed to own a credit card and a house. It only tastes like shit when someone asks "How does it make you feel?" 

People like him shouldn't go to therapy at all. His solution was to quit playing a modern man the minute he realized he's no longer fit for that role. He's simply a dead body, reanimated to serve a purpose. He's a sharp tool, a weapon. (A zombie.)

He serves the greater good, but everyone knows the greater good is propaganda too. There's no grand fight between light and darkness. Good and evil only conduct people's choices: even his old man must've thought he was making the world a better place by playing the rebel. He told him he served the Queen just to piss that sodded bastard off, but the truth is he never served anyone. Not even himself.

Now, there's an odd purpose to his task. Now, every cell in his body is full of animus. 

He's an animated corpse, perhaps, but they forgot to bury the wrath.

"Where's the rookie?"

"Getting stapled."

"Where?"

Which room? 

Which fucking room?

He doesn't stay to heed directions. He doesn't need them; his instinct tells him enough. He doesn't even bother to knock, simply barges in, only to see that the boy sits on the bed he used to sit on, in the exact same position as him. And he knows it's not just the blood loss that makes the fucker look so drowsy and smug. 

The fury is pierced with an ice-tinged sword as he sees her gentle touch – she's tending to the wounds of an ungrateful kid with the same compassion she gives to all her patients, and the first thing on his mind is that she would make a good mother.

"What're you doing here?" 

His voice is soaked in ash, but the boy only looks up from the bed with pure, trouble-seeking gall.

"What are you doing here…? Sir."

She's looking at him too. She's pleading with those eyes. Silently, desperately. 

"You can't come here, lieutenant. Not unless you're injured."

Her request only now makes sense as he sees how the boy looks him up and down and sees there's not a scratch on him. There's no reason for him to be here other than to relieve the pain in his loins.

"Well… Have fun," the rookie jumps from the table, and the rage threatens to pull him underwater like a tide. He never needed anything but his voice to stop a man in his tracks. Not size, not rank, not even his reputation, just voice. 

"My office. Five minutes."

The boy dares to give him another foul look.

"Is that all you need? Just five minutes?"

He even detects admiration in that stare – like he's some stallion, a prized old stud who receives fine mares to rut. Like the celestial woman standing behind this… boy is just some slag thrown to him like they threw to gladiators of old. His luxury whore.

The rookie finally catches the impending wrath that must swell and roil like sea inside the sockets of the skull. 

Yes, boy.

Death is coming.

"Sir," the boy swallows with an arduous blob, then walks out of the goddess's domain, finally with some humility upon those shoulders. 

The torture has already begun, and it shoots him full of sweet adrenaline. He tries to mask the rising war from her, but she sees enough just before he leaves her as well. Her words follow him but cannot penetrate the cloak of fury that shrouds him as he goes to prepare for carnage.

"Simon. I just stitched him together..."

…..…..…..

He doesn't solve the problem with a gun or a cock this time. 

He uses his fists and a knife.

It should disgust him; how much he enjoys it. It's one of those rare occasions when he almost loses himself in the riptide of blood. The things he imagines are far worse than what he finally allows himself to do. When the boy has a split lip and half his face swollen so bad he can't even see from the bruise, when the wetness dampens the crotch area and threatens to stain the carpet, he lets him go.

"Get out."

He's a different man when he rises from beside that broken boy; from next to the knife he plunged to the floor an inch away from his face to make his intentions clear. The boy is stripped of all arrogance and probably regrets the day he got the splendid idea to insult a woman. 

He doesn't have to get his hands deep into paperwork to have the rookie transferred; the boy does it for him. He leaves the base quietly as a shadow and with a face that looks like it has been forced through a waffle maker.

After that, everyone salutes him feet away.

His orders are obeyed without question, without a second's delay on missions. He has never pursued to be loved, but neither has he worked on making people fear him. Now he's not only a source of mystery and intrigue but also fear and wonder.

Soap isn't scared quite as shitless as the rest of them, but neither is he as friendly as he used to be. Price says nothing but he gets a few looks that tell him he has gone too far.

"You shouldn't have," she whispers when they're alone, stopping him in the quiet hallway. She's the only one who doesn't have fear and avoidance in her stare. If anything, the adoration in her eyes has deepened.

He has avoided her strictly, this time obeying her request not to go to her unless he has business there. He doesn't defend himself; he doesn't have the luxury to decide what should or shouldn't be done. He's not a saint nor a judge. He is territorial, though.

"You must be the craziest man I've ever met." 

She talks to his shadow as he's standing only a few feet away, unable to touch her.

"Good."

"...and the most incredible."

His sharp intake of air hisses between them as the artificial light casts shadows in electric blue. She tries to thank him for bashing a face in, all her noble Hippocratic Oaths forgotten.

She takes a step – just one, to make it perfectly clear she wants to touch him too.

"You're a brute, Simon."

The woman's eyes are a deep sea of gratitude. He wonders if she's equally as wet between those legs. Her voice says it all: she likes brutes.

The worship in her stare makes him understand why wars have been waged – this is the reason why crusaders sloshed through rivers of crimson blood, why whole civilizations were destroyed. This is why swords are forged and guns are fired. He draws another breath to swear his allegiance, an oath bound in blood.

"No one's gonna call you a–"

She crosses the final breadth of air between them and lifts his mask.

…..…..…..

The waves crash on the shore like clockwork. To him, it's the sound of limbo. 

The sea used to pull him in like a seductive pit, especially at night, during the sleepless shifts when he walked to the beach with nothing but the ghosts of all the people he had lost to keep him company. Watching all the futures and should have been's slowly drowning in the sea. 

Now he’s here with a living being, and the cold, dead sea has turned into blooming fireworks of crimson and coral. The amnesia has turned into bliss; all the treasures lost in the depths suddenly wash up on the shore like a sunken hoard.

She takes her shoes off the minute they reach the shore, then descends the sands with laughter. She could be from a movie or a magazine, gliding through bleached gold with sunbeams in her hair, sandals dangling from the crook of her fingers, heathers kissing her feet as she dives down the path. Her smile eclipses even the setting sun, and for the first time ever, he thinks it might've been a stupid idea to enlist. 

If there’s an opposite to ice and inertia, it's this. 

It's her. 

"You lied to me," she turns around but doesn't stop walking. "You have been to the beach."

She tilts her head as if reprimanding him, but he knows she's just laughing at his expense. She laughs at his name… She laughs at his broodings, she laughs at his shadows and his hubris. 

"Does anyone else know about this place?"

"No."

There's no soul out here but theirs; even the seagulls have withdrawn to rest. She stops to admire the sun, features turning soft as she takes in her counterpart. Apparently, she likes his humble tribute, the scarcity he has to offer. Some hollow bones, his opinion of a beach. Emptiness… A day coming to an end.

"I have no words for this."

"It's just a beach," he offers, and swallows when she turns. When the fuck has he ever felt embarrassed? His mask is gone, so she can see him swallow again as she approaches. It's the strangest thing how she can still cause his heart to hammer in his chest. He's used to stepping into a hail of bullets, driving a truck through a wall, waiting for that last unaware step to lunge forth and slit a man's throat. The organ never wailed then.

Her eyes take in his every flaw and scar, the rotten work on his skin before she wraps her hands around his neck. 

"No. No it's not. This is paradise."

She has to rise on her toes to kiss him, and he's glad he got rid of the mask. There's nothing between him and the taste of summer anymore – she reminds him of some bright tropical drink, something pure and sweet and innocent, pure fucking fun, something he has come to understand and define only through movies and tv. 

And he knows now why he always comes back to her. It's because he was injured. Badly, severely, life-threateningly injured – no, he was already deceased.  

She has introduced him back to the world: the sun, the birdsong, the simple, good life. How it feels like to have curtains, or bake just because it's Thursday, or walk barefoot on the beach in order to feel the burning sand on your skin. 

What kind of a medic has the power to resurrect the dead?

"Simon," she shivers into his mouth. "I'm sorry. I didn't want people to think that… That we're just…"

"Pet. I know."

"They said you didn't trouble yourself with relationships."

Years of instinct and training make his spine tingle. He's holding another future in his arms and hopes it's not possible for a sea to swallow a sun.

"They?"

"Well, John. Captain." 

Her lashes hide what's going through her mind, but he can tell she's feeling shy from the way she shifts in his embrace.

"I asked about you. In spring. If there's someone… waiting for you."

He wrestles down a bitter laugh. The only lover ever waiting for him was nothingness in that chair; the only wife he came home to was shades, shadows, and dust. 

But he's starting to understand what she's trying to say. How, without even thinking about it, he just made the strongest possible declaration of not being here just for sex. He couldn't have sent a louder message with that boy.

Because not only Jonathan Price know that she's his. Soap knows too. Gaz knows too. Everyone working in Task Force 141 knows, even the fucking scrubbers and accountants know what's going on. Everyone knows that Ghost is real, and alive, and troubles himself with a relationship.

"I dreamed of you, you know." Her lashes flutter open, and he's met with the perfect example of total surrender. She's more than happy with the outcome, and why the hell shouldn't she be? Actions speak louder than words. He of all people should know that.

"Love–"

"Do you remember the day I found out you were a smoker?"

"...Sure."

She laughs, taking him back to the odd meeting in the yard when she was prying her suffocating latex gloves off, and he was trying to find some solace in a cigarette because he couldn't have her. 

"I was so angry at you. Playing with death at every turn..." 

"Yeah. Not the perfect man."

"But you were. You are." 

"Pet. If someone's perfect, it's you."

"No… I'm a hypocrite. I wanted you to just–just take me against the wall. After your stupid smoke."

He always wondered if she was suffocating too. In her gloves, in her beauty, in her sterile, medical, professional chasteness.

But he had no fucking clue that she–

"Or during, I don't care…"

Even the thought of her wanting him to tear apart her facades shatters the last sane thought in his head. He has tried to be civil, tried to suffocate the longing, but apparently, he doesn't have to. The image of burying himself inside her cunt while taking a drag from the thing she despises even more than his name or his mask or his guns is too fucking much. The fact that she views a dog like him as a perfect man makes his cock answer her call like a good, stout soldier. 

"Is that so?"

She stops breathing for a moment as he takes a drag from her now. She's raw whiskey straight to an empty stomach, the way his mind goes blank from sliding his mouth over the column of her throat. She tastes of sea there, and it's not pulling him in; it's pulling him under. The open-mouthed kisses make her jolt, he even draws out a moan or two; they swell between his legs. 

"You like that…?"

She answers to him with a soft whine. A soft nib of her ear, and her hips reply with a roll. The woman tries to latch onto him by gripping his shirt, threatening to do permanent damage to the fabric.

"No walls here, pet. Gotta take you on the sand," he gruffs in her ear, cock hard and ready from her tight little breaths. He could bet half his money that she's wetter than November down there. He could drag his cockhead across her cunt and the sound would be divine. 

"Simon–"

"I'll light a cig first."

"Stop teasing," she laughs, voice thick with hunger.

"...Roger that."

His hand is on his belt before he knows it. It's pathetic how much patience he has if he needs to crouch in a downpour and wait for a kill, but at the sight and smell and taste of her, he can't stop himself from wrenching his belt and pants open like a starved dog. It's a rush born of fear - that any time could be the last time.

She seems to shiver from his stare only when she lays herself upon the warm sand, naked as can be. She's like a vision on that beach: leaning on her elbows, thighs slowly parting, revealing the glistening sex between her legs. And she's fucking dripping, like an overripe peach. He could've safely bet all his money on her.

"How do you want me?"

Fucking fuck… 

He's walking in a dream: the most beautiful woman in the world is lying naked before his feet, bathing in gold, asking how he would prefer to take her. He doesn't even bother to get out of his clothes; he merely tugs his pants down and crawls between her legs, relishing the tight gasp he gets from being so crude.

Her eyes grow wide at the sight of him there, so close to her core, cock hanging heavy just an inch away from that tight cunt. She tries so hard to look composed while lying under his shadow, to not make it obvious that she wants that ugly thing inside. And it does feel like sin not to spread those legs and plough right in, especially when his fingers meet her silk and find that she's already throbbing.

"Want you just like this, pet," he rasps while dragging the pad of his thumb around her clit. Her back arches on the sand, forcing his fingers deeper into the dripping fruit.

It's different, her wetness; not thick and halfway there, but flowing, leaking, soaking good. The pussy is so glazed that he slips at the first attempt to slide a finger in. Her walls grip him the second he's seated deep, making it known how much she appreciates it that he's not here just for sex. 

"Someone's greedy," he's breathing rough, and she whines – he only gets to two fingers before she demands him to fuck her already.

"Want your–I need your cock…" 

She's begging, poor thing, almost crying on the sand, and he has no fucking choice but to remove his fingers and grab his cock instead.

"Have to go slow, love."

"Riley–for god's sake, now."

"F' fuck's sake…" He stumbles forward, all but gracefully, forces the tip on her soaked cunt as delicately as he can before pushing right in. She cries from the spread, fingers curling in the sand: a futile attempt to take him in without fainting.

"Tried to warn ya–"

"Don't you dare stop," she gasps, eyes full of love. As always, her wish is his command, and the tightness makes it an endless journey to bliss. The basest parts of him think about dying – having a heart attack on the same beach he almost drowned in, about ceasing to exist just for the sake of knowing that nothing is as good as this. 

He's deep as can fucking be, and it's still not enough – it's never enough. He collects her in his arms with a frustrated grunt, cock giving a tight pull only when she's finally safe and snug in his embrace. It's a tight cuddle that leaves them both breathless.

"Hold me tighter..." 

It's a soft order, but he can't get any closer: chest plastered on her skin and balls pressed against her ass, the sand grinding against her back as he makes love to her. She’s not made of twigs, but he’s far bigger than her, already threatening to crush her with his weight.

"Tighter…" she begs on his lips, tries to pull him closer with her whole being.

"Pet, I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," she sings, completely shieldless. Something warns him of danger, a reset far worse than drowning or being buried alive or shooting himself in a lonely apartment. He tries to calm her down with a kiss: he knows she loves kisses - but there are tears in her eyes, and his heart is hammering, hammering… 

"Simon, do you love me…?"

She asks that question right on his lips, and the first thing in his dog mind is that it's a stupid thing to ask when he's balls deep inside her and still trying to get closer.

"Yeah," he almost chokes on it, knowing it could be their wedding day and he would still choke on it because it doesn't taste like salt or metal or grave.

"I love you," she whispers. "Do you understand?"

No. No…

I fuckin' don't–

"And I'll always be here for you."

To his shock, there’s no sea water in his lungs, no dirt in his mouth. He’s not choking on anything, he's not in fact dying at all: he’s floating, somewhere between the sun and the sand and the sea. There's no more rush, no jaws of death snapping at his heels. He doesn't even long for heaven anymore. Not when there's a paradise on earth.

"Love, I need you to–need you to focus," he tries to stutter nonsense while she's pledging herself to him. Of course she only laughs at him: it hits him with the sweetest warmth.

"You're so silly…" 

"Yeah? I know." 

He's laughing too. It's just a few notes that get taken away by the sound of waves. It's just a breath from deep within, and still… Her gaze drops to his mouth, a flutter blinks back more tears.

"I love it when you laugh..." Her eyes shine brighter than the sun, riding the spine of the sea as one perfect tear rolls down her cheek. "Love it…"

The sun sets in tangerine, his new favourite colour. There's a whole bloom out there in the sky when she comes, fast and bright in his embrace. He comes right after, just from trying to stay inside her warmth, deep inside her, around her, and she says it, again and again and again… Until he breathes.

….….….

"Remember when I said I could've managed? Without you," she asks when they lie on the sand, skin on skin, watching the sun set beneath the onyx sea. The waves rise and break, but around them, the air is still. He's still inside her as she pulls his hand over her heart, entwining their fingers together: it's the softest little arrest, but her squeeze doesn't lack strength. 

"I lied too."

"I know."

She chuckles softly. "Is there something you don't know?"

"...Yeah. Why you're here out of all places."

She turns her head from the sunset into the falling darkness of him, and he wonders if that's why she's here... To be with his night. She said that people always get the dark wrong: that it's not supposed to be scary at all. That the purpose of darkness is safety, security, that there are tales where the day chases the night, and the night chases the day. She said it's because they're in love with each other.

"You really don't know…?" 

"You were smiling before we met and now you're crying all the time."

She looks up at him with trust and devotion, his daylight, his sun. There's none in the sky anymore, but it doesn't matter. It lives in her eyes.

"People cry from happiness too, Simon."

[welcomingdisaster]

years of the trees tumblr dashboard simulator

🦜filitárifinds Follow

second mingling soft mouse

🌸 drunkinalqualonde Follow

second mingling soft mouse reblog for peace and comfort always

🌧️ hailxrainxstars Follow

i can't scroll past the mingling mouse

🪻dancer_spirit Follow

guys it's literally opening hour

🦦 whatabotterit Follow

opening hour will end but mingling mouse is forever

#sighs #i suppose i must reblog #second mingling soft mouse

( 12990 notes )

🌻sweetflowersofspring Follow

spilled all the seed pods at yavanna's temple and accidentally sa-si'ed in front of my crush (who only ever uses Þ 😭) and now i come home and learn the hounds have come loose and run off to chase the wild hunt... can i just get whatever queen miriel died from it's too late for me now folks

🔥lordoflight Follow

Explain to me how and why you think it's okay to joke about that.

#idiots online #disrespect #upsetting

( 12 notes )

🌳 twotreesdaily Follow

Yet another image which fails to capture the majesty and beauty of Laurelin, yet in its imperfection reveals the grandness and completeness of that design, which none shall surpass.

#perfection #beauty #tree #merging of light and life #the valar #gold #symbol of eternal youth and the divine feminine #wow

( 299 notes )

🐾 awwooooo Follow

join the wild hunt we've got deer jerky

🐾 awwooooo Follow

also orgies

🐾 awwooooo Follow

but seriously so much deer jerky there's too much someone please take some

( 188 notes )

🪺 maidenwithoutacause Follow

normalize taking naps and being so so sleepy

🗡️fireson5 Follow

That literally kills people.

🪺 maidenwithoutacause Follow

that was ONE time

#sorry op but it's literally 100% of our mortality rate he's got a point

( 355 notes )

🦢 silversmith Follow

"nolofinwë's right" this "curufinwë's right" that ... do we ever talk about how arafinwë just fucked off to to drink cocktails on the beach in alqualondë and married the hottest elf-maiden in all of aman? icon for this

( 82 notes )

Based on your likes!

🐞 bugdaughter Follow

any girls want to go to the macalaurë feanorian orchestral and exchange kisses under the starlight....

🐞 bugdaughter Follow

perhaps tenderly grasp each other's hands

🐞 bugdaughter Follow

... unwed

#not safe for tumblr #horny posting

( 19 notes )

🕊️ justsomevanya Follow

okay wondering if i'm weird

#polls #haha is it just me

( 58 notes )

🎶freepeoplefreesong Follow

gotta be real it's sad to see cancel culture coming for melkor he's done his time let him live

🌄 smithworkirl Follow

bestie he's a war criminal

🎶freepeoplefreesong Follow

he's coming to my house party tomorrow ✌️ peace and love

#seriously tho unfollow me if you think people can't change #the light is healing and cleanses all #don't you believe in redemption

( 31 notes )

⛰️ 12elves3kings

prince turukáno house of nolofinwë. you agree. reblog.

( 67 notes )