#|| Story || Beckoning Dreams | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

changbunnies · 8 days ago

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Devourance (18+)

♡ Pairing: Dracula / Nosferatu!Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: vampire au, dracula / nosferatu au, 1800s au, human / vampire relationship, horror themes, reincarnation, soulmates, smut

♡ Word Count: 3.9k

♡ Summary: Hyunjin has crossed oceans of time to find you– the one who's blood calls to him, who beckons for him in the dead of night, who yearns for his touch against all conceptions of what one must and must not desire. The ancient Vampyr has an appetite for you; an appetite that won't ever be sated.

♡ General Warnings: reader has depression (referred to as melancholy), reader is a lucid dreamer, usage of vampire abilities (invading dreams, shapeshifting, heightened senses), hyun's true form is very Creature Vampire so. still sexy if ur a monster fucker like me but some of y'all may not like that lmao

♡ Smut Warnings: does having sex with someone inside their dream count as somnophilia? idk !!, outdoor sex (kind of; it's a dream so they're not really outside lol), wet dreams, pet names (my love, my heart), referenced biting and blood drinking, unprotected piv, creampie

♡ Notes: originally, when i was planning my late kinktober fics, this was strictly a dracula au (as i love the 1992 movie and have a beautiful copy of the book sitting in my horror novel collection <3) but i saw the nosferatu remake in theaters and it rotted my fucking brain lmao so this became a blend of both ! i hope you enjoy it, cause i had a blast writing it <3

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

It starts as a dream; a waking one, so vivid and lucid that the line between conscious reality and imagination blurs, all perception of time and space bending and warping to what your subconscious mind feels most safe and familiar.

Your hands clasped together, a deep breath before you close your teary eyes, your souls desires laid out in a whispered prayer– "Come to me."

Who are you asking for? Who will heed your call? A friend you wish to have, but have yet to obtain? An imaginary prince charming who will right all the wrongs of your life with his presence alone? God himself? Death?

You do not know– all you know is that you are desperate for an escape from the melancholy that permeates your life, seeping its way into every crack of your porcelain heart, as thick and murky black as tar. It sticks to you, wraps itself around every cell, clinging to you in a loveless embrace.

Even in your dreams you cannot escape it; so often you hear tale of joyous dreams. Dreams in which you stand upon the altar, waiting to be wed to the love of your life, dreams in which you share a dinner with one you admire, or dreams in which you have coveted all that you desire.

You are regaled with recollections of dreams full of simple pleasures; warm and nostalgic, dreams of playing in the front yard as a child, with your mother's freshly baked bread wafting to you from the open window. Dreams of early school days, where one's only worry in the world was what they'd play when they got back home.

For some, dreams are entirely nonsensical; there is often no clear purpose, nor story, nor concrete feeling– but it is pleasant in its own right, and entertaining to recall the absurdities in which you found yourself in the middle of.

You do not experience such simple pleasures.

While for others, dreams are a pleasant escape from everyday life, a blissful end to an arduous day of work, your dreams are an extension of your reality. They offer no comfort, nor joy, nor escape from your bleak, mundane existence. You are ever as aware of yourself whilst asleep as you are while conscious, feeling every emotion just as strongly as you do in the light of day.

You wish you could say you have adapted to life with your melancholy, or learned to be at peace with it, or that you don't mind having no escape. But the truth of the matter is that your dreams being not a safe haven as they should be tolls on you, made worse by the fact that even in the sanctuary that should be your mind, you are utterly alone and miserable.

So there you stand in your waking dream, wishing for a change. A mirror of your reality, your status within your dream reflects the state you were in before falling to sleep. You are in your bedroom, as pitch dark as you left it when blowing out the candles, the only illumination coming from the moon shining through your balcony doors.

You stand in the middle of the room, hands clasped and eyes closed as you whisper your prayers, the same lily-white chemise you wore to bed draping your body. So perfect a recreation of your surroundings, that were it not for the fact that you so vividly remember adhering to your sleep routine and laying your head against the pillows, you might not even be able to say that this was a dream at all.

And though it is just the confines of your mind, and you are certain no one but God can hear you (if he will listen, and hasn't yet turned his back on you), you plead.

"Come to me. A guardian angel, a spirit of comfort, a spirit of any celestial sphere– anyone, anything. Please, hear my call."

There is naught in the room but silence when you are finished; you are as alone with your thoughts as you ever are. You take a breath, blink away building tears, readying yourself to try again– and then, to your greatest surprise, there is a response.

For the first time in all your many dreams, a voice answers you– soft, an indistinct whisper akin to your own, but you hear it echo in the silence of your bedroom. Your eyes shoot open, a soft gasp leaving your parted lips as you look around the room.

Slowly, you lower your hands, taking an unconscious step forward, closer to where the voice calls to you from your balcony. You cannot yet discern what the voice is saying, nor can you see their figure, but you watch breathlessly as the lock on your balcony doors seems to unlatch itself, a sudden gust of wind pushing it open.

The air is cooler than you'd expect for a late spring's breeze, but you do not shiver or shrink away from the sudden chill; instead, you tentatively take another step, following the unfamiliar, beckoning voice. The voice becomes clearer the closer you step to the balcony, and though you see nothing out of the ordinary before you, you feel them.

No, to say you do not see them is not right– invisible in your mortal gaze, yes, but the moon casts their shadow on your wall, your curtains billowing with the steady breeze capturing their inhuman silhouette. And surely it is merely a trick of shadow that makes the figure appear so inhuman– because how else can you grapple with so foreign a creature standing before you?

You rationalize the impossibly tall silhouette as the moon elongating their shadow, the sharp and pointy length of their nails having simply become exaggerated, the unnatural point of their ears the result of a penumbra trick. Their figure vanishes with each fall of your curtains, reappearing with each rise; but their shadow ever lingers, eerie black against your ivory walls.

Their shadow serves as a reminder, you think– that even when you cannot see them, they will be there. Watching, beckoning, waiting; the voice, once so indistinct and otherworldly, is now crystal clear in your ears. Soft but luminous, it calls you as you take another cautious step closer.

"You," the voice starts, and though soft, it is an aching rasp– reminiscent, you think, of when one has fallen ill, or of times when one's throat has grown stiff from disuse. You have no further time to ponder if this is the man's– creature's?– natural inflection; for in just a few more careful utterances, their tone smooths, the soft voice becoming silken.

"You," the male voice repeats, smooth as satin and utterly mesmerizing, "I have heard you. And I answer in turn– come to me."

The shadow moves along your wall then, creeping closer to you; it feels as if it envelops you, embracing you with a blissful warmth you've never before felt. It clings to you with each step, but it does not feel like the melancholic tar you are accustomed to; it is a gentle ribbon, guiding you further with promises of sweetness you have so long craved.

Holding now to the railing of your balcony, you look to the gardens below. There you see him, standing amongst the tall, twisting trees and blooming lilacs. He gazes up at you, eyes black as a void, and yet they still shine in the light of the moon.

And just as a void promises to, his look swallows you whole. You lose yourself in the dark, hypnotic pool of his eyes, stumbling forward almost blindly, with one simple thought– you must go to him.

You are before him in an instant, though you have no recollection or understanding as to how. Did you walk off the balcony and fall below? Did you turn back and trek through the house to make it to the gardens? Is this the absurdity of dreams that normally eludes you, or is a greater power at work?

The answer seems of little importance; bewitched by the man standing before you, you find that logic and rationality hold no value. He is here, perfection and beauty embodied wholly– the answer to your prayers; that is all you care to know.

Your hand trembles, your utmost desire now to reach out and feel him beneath your fingertips, to confirm that he is not just a figment of your dream– that there really was someone in this world who could hear you from beyond, and cared enough to respond to your call.

Hair as black as his eyes, a few long strands falling over his perfect cheekbones, while the rest is tucked behind his normal, and not at all pointed, ears. He has full, plush lips shaded in an enchanting, muted red, with a little mole under his left eye and utterly flawless, pristine skin.

He is ethereal, and radiant, and he is here for you– and while his eyes hold a darkness you have never before seen, his smile is impossibly tender. He takes your trembling hand in his own, and you can feel his nails poke your skin as he closes it around you.

They are long, yes, but not as long and pointed as his shadow would've led you to believe them to be. There is a part of you that decides you were correct to think his features were simply exaggerated and warped by shadow, though the deep recesses of your heart and mind know this isn't true.

Whatever he is, whoever he may be– he is not of this world, you know that for certain. For who else in the world could hear you? Who would have the power to meet you in your mind? A trickster, an angel, a devil? It matters not, you decide; for perhaps, in some ways, you are not of this world either.

Perhaps you have always felt melancholic, twisted, and odd, because your destiny did not reside with your fellow man– perhaps it lied here, with this creature who wears the mask of the beautiful sort of prince charming you've yearned for.

His shadow was the truth of his being, you innately know, and yet it gives you no fear. He squeezes your hand, a reassurance, while the other rises to cup your cheek in his palm, a tender rub of his thumb along the skin where he holds you. His gentle touch is ice cold, but it spreads warmth through your body regardless– because oh, how you've longed for the companionship of another.

"You are for me," he whispers as he inches closer, your noses on the precipice of touching, "and I, you. Do you believe in destiny?" He stares at you, observing you closely as he awaits your answer. You swallow, heart quickening as you hold his gaze.

"Yes," you utter softly; for in the depths of your soul, you feel it– the immutable pull that tells you this is where you must be. Beside him, in his arms, at his side for all eternity– and he will love you, this you know true; because even down to the very marrow of your bones, your body says it is so.

He has searched for you for an age; not someone like you, no. You. Only you. And his delight to finally have heard his beloved's call, and to answer– it is an unparalleled joy, one that he expects you to share. For even in your mortal life, your blood sings for him just the same as it did those many, long centuries ago.

You were promised to him then, as you are now– and he will have you, just as he did then. First in sleep, as you are now, but someday soon he will find you in the physical world once more. He will hold you in his arms, your reunion as joyous as it is profane. Rejoice, as you join him back to your true home; the castle, your castle, where every moment was spent in unholy exuberance.

"Do you remember?" he asks, voice honey-sweet, "remember how we once were?"

You do not, not really– your mind has no recollection of the man before you. But your soul remembers, has carried the weight of centuries of love and longing with it all this time, waiting for the moment all the feelings harbored within could finally be unearthed.

"I know you," you answer, truthfully; because while this is your first meeting in this life, you recognize him all the same. In the deepest recesses of your memory, he is there, gazing upon you with the same reverence he does now. He holds you close, kisses you tender, his touch along your skin slow and gentle, his name a whispered prayer on your lips.

Hyunjin.

His eyes light up when you call his name, a smile growing on his perfect lips. Hyunjin would know you anywhere, and there was never any doubt you were his love– but all the same, it is a great relief to hear his name fall from your lips again after so many years spent longing for it.

He kisses you then, doing his utmost to relay the depths of his passion, while also holding the carnality he feels for you at bay– the last thing he wishes to do is overwhelm you with his appetite too soon. You are his affliction, his every desire, he must have you; and he can only pray that you will not deny him, or yourself, the pleasure– but only when the time is right.

"You will be mine once more," he says; a statement, not a question, between kisses to your lips, "as I am eternally yours." Your nerves tingle, blood alight as you return his affections, meeting his lips with urgency.

"I will have you," he continues, almost breathless as his lips begin to trail down your neck, "Will you swear it? That again, we are for no one but each other?" His breath tickles your skin, the points of two sharp teeth touching the sensitive pulse point. You shiver as his fangs linger there, closing your eyes as your heart thunders in your chest.

Hyunjin can not truly drink from you here, not in the confines of your dream, but his teeth against your neck serve as a reminder– that your blood is his greatest temptation. Should you promise yourself to him once more, he won't be able to resist you– as there is no taste sweeter than the blood of his beloved.

"I swear," you whisper your promise; for you will never fear him, nor can you deny the ecstasy that comes when he drinks from you. “ever-eternally, I am yours.”

He is a beast of nightmares, a plague set upon the world, a ruinous omen of death, your immortal Vampyr; and you are safe in his hold. For he loves you and needs you too greatly to cause you any harm– an affection that contradicts his nature, but what a welcome contradiction it is.

When you meet his gaze once more, his eyes burn with desire; it has been an agony, truly, to have such carnal desire for you all these centuries. And he could do naught with his desires but wait– wait for the day you would return to this world, and pray that your body and soul would still sing for him the way it once had.

Hyunjin could have taken concubines, could’ve shared his castle with any great number of men or women– but they would not have been you. None can sate him the way you can, none can spread such flames of passion through his icy veins, none can make his eternally still heart feel as if it beats. It is not a vain promise when he says you are the only one for him– he means it with every fiber of his immortal being.

Your heart and soul, now free from their sepulchre, burn with need. He can hear the erratic thump of your heart, the blood rushing through your veins, can smell the arousal pooling between your legs. You desire him, just as he desires you– and he decides then that the time is right; there is no need to be cautious and careful with his affections.

You want him, and he wants you– and you will have each other, now and forever.

Hyunjin kisses you once more, hungry and urgent. He pulls your body flush to his own, holds you tightly as the wind rolls quickly past you. You realize, when you pull away to catch a breath, that your surroundings have shifted. Now in the center of the estate’s hedge maze, he lies you down on the stone bench beneath the grand statue of Mnemosyne.

You shiver against the cold stone, but he warms you with another kiss. His tongue meets your lips as his hand dances around the bottom of your chemise, lifting it up just enough to expose your lower half. His hands find your thighs, the points of his nails digging at the soft flesh as he squeezes you in his palms.

It elicits a needy sound from deep within, one that you almost don’t recognize as your own. You feel the sharp points of his teeth with your tongue, while he spreads your legs apart to make more room for himself between them. He tugs your panties away with haste, and there is no shyness to be had when he separates to look at the way you glisten under the moonlight for him.

He takes a moment to stare, licks his lips before looking back up to meet your eyes. You hold his gaze as he frees his cock from his trousers, swallowing as you look down for just a moment, and then back up to him. You are both eager, it is clear– and he will have neither of you wait any longer; you have both waited long enough.

“I will have you,” Hyunjin repeats as he grabs your hips, lifting your bottom up from the stone bench and aligning you with himself. His thighs support you, while his feet stay firmly planted on the grass and stone below. You wrap your legs around his waist, and he removes one of his hands from your hips, using it to find leverage on the stone as he leans over you.

You can feel his cock pulsing against you, excitement and anticipation building exponentially in your gut. “Mine again,” he whispers as he captures your lips in another kiss, “You are mine, my love.”

He presses inside you as slowly as he can manage to, and you gasp, hands reaching out to cling to his arms. Thick and full, you let out a shuddering moan when his cock is sheathed fully inside your wet heat. He moans with you, the centuries of building need finally melting into the pure bliss he’d been longing for.

But he refuses to rush– his thrusts are slow and fluid, precise and calculated, searching for the spot he knows will bring you utmost euphoria. You let out a high-pitched moan, followed by a curse, when he succeeds; and he smiles before he grits his teeth, determined to bring you to the heights of pleasure.

“Hyunjin, oh, please–” you whimper, nails digging into the fabric of his sleeves as he picks up his pace. He wanted to drag it out longer, truly, he did; but the mind is a powerful thing, and even whilst in a dream, the pleasure that you both feel is entirely real.

And how much longer can one who has held centuries of lust and yearning hold back? Especially when the object of his every desire is moaning and begging for him so sweetly?

He could never resist you– not then, and especially not now. And long has he craved to hear his name spill from your lips like this again; so much so that the sound of it sends him into a frenzy.

“Again,” he utters, equal parts desperate plea and urgent demand, “call to me, say my name.” You oblige easily, his name falling from your lips in a tantalizing mantra; and you feel his cock throb violently with each salacious whimper, his every thrust laced with desire and urgency.

He releases his grip on your hip, moving his hand to your center and pressing his thumb on your clit. Your breath catches, eyes rolling back as he rubs your clit in steady, practiced circles.

“Cum for me, my love,” Hyunjin urges; he is on the precipice of release himself, and he needs you to fall apart with him– it is the only way he can truly be satisfied. Your thighs tremble, whimpers broken by harsh breaths; and you let go of his arms, reach up to his face and pull him down into a desperate, needy kiss.

He moans, and if his flesh were mortal, he is sure that goosebumps would’ve risen over every inch of his body. His thrusts lose their fluidity, becoming quick and choppy as he chases the high your body promises him. You clench tighter, toes curling and body quivering as you finally cum, your every moan of pleasure captured by his lips.

His hips still as his own high takes him, his cock fully pressed inside, his cum spurting in long, sticky spurts. Your kisses are breathless, impassioned, but no longer urgent– they are soft promises of love, of eternity together in bliss.

You smile at him when he pulls away, and he looks at you just as tenderly as he had before, stroking your cheek and indulging in the heat it offers his thumb. You’ve never felt so relaxed, happy and at peace– but just then, you feel a sudden jolt.

It is a sign that your consciousness is returning to reality, and you will soon find yourself back in your bed, with the morning light shining on you from your balcony. Hyunjin, an invader in your mind, feels himself being pushed out– for he can not stay by your side beyond the bounds of your dream just yet.

There is fear and uncertainty that peaks within you as you fight to stay asleep just a moment longer– but he is quick to calm you, kissing you one last time before you the sun’s rays shine down on you.

“I will find you again in the waking world, my heart,” he says, squeezing your hand in his before he starts to fade once more into shadow, “this, I promise.”

You rise with a start, blinking rapidly and lingering, unshed tears falling from your eyes as you raise your hand to your heart. Just as expected, it is morning now– the late spring sun is bright and warm, and birds chirp in delight as they welcome the dawn of a new day.

You frown, feeling the erratic thumb of your heart beneath your fingertips as the melancholy claws its way back around you, reminding you that it has not left. Your inner thighs are sticky and wet, you realize a short moment later, and for the first time, you blush.

And then you giggle– and the melancholy, though ever present, now has a weaker grasp. You wonder, as you rise from the bed and prepare for your day, how long it will take for Hyunjin to find you. Days, weeks, months?

You hope it is soon– but if it is not, you know what you will do. Every night, when you blow out the candles and fall asleep, you will call to him. You’ll invite him back into your mind, greet him with a soft kiss, and revel in his tender touch.

You will make love, you will smile, and you will talk of the future with greater enthusiasm than you have ever known– for he is your destiny, your truest love, your one and only immortal Vampyr. Ever-eternally.

#skz x reader #hyunjin x reader #skz smut #hyunjin smut #skz fanfic #hyunjin fanfic #skz imagines #hyunjin imagines #skz scenarios #hyunjin scenarios #mdni + divider graphic credit: @cafekitsune #wanted this to come out sooner but ofc i got a sinus infection kicking my ass on top of everything else lmao #yes this was supposed to be a kinktober fic. yes i'm posting it in january. life just be that way sometimes gfsgsd #but i like this ver of the fic better than my original one so the delay was a blessing in disguise?

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faebled-stories · 3 months ago

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Ex-Factor: Behind the Smile

Kinkvember Day 3: Blackmail (Yandere Jiheon)

Fromis_9 Baek Jiheon x Male reader

AN: Daylight savings + weekend = Earlier update 💖😊

7.2k words

In the dazzling universe of K-pop, where glitzy performances and fanfare reign supreme, love often becomes a bittersweet melody, intricately woven into the fabric of fame, fortune, and relentless ambition. Amidst the swirling lights of concerts, the deafening cheers from adoring fans, and the ceaseless training sessions, two talented idols—Jiheon and you—found a quiet oasis in each other’s hearts.

From the moment you met, it felt as if destiny had intertwined your fates. Jiheon, a rising star with a captivating stage presence that could light up any arena, had a magnetic charm that drew you in. Your own charisma, a sweet yet powerful aura, complemented hers perfectly. Together, you became a dynamic duo, weathering the storms of the industry while nurturing a love that blossomed in the less glamorous and quieter corners of life.

Your relationship was not built on grand gestures but on cherished moments behind the scenes. Late-night phone calls stretched into early mornings, where soft laughter and shared dreams painted a beautiful tapestry of intimacy. Cozy dinners became your refuge from the demanding schedules that dictated your lives, where you exchanged stories, hopes, and fears over steaming bowls of ramen or comforting plates of kimchi.

Your romance seemed like a fairytale. You were the couple everyone dreamed of being, seemingly pursuing your aspirations together with the promise of a shared future. From the outside, it appeared as though you cheered each other on during rehearsals, hearts racing not just for personal triumphs but for the joy of achieving success together on grand stages. Yet, little did they realize, there was much more beneath the surface.

Stolen kisses between dance practice, secret notes exchanged backstage, and quiet walks beneath shimmering city lights became treasured memories, preserving the sweetness of your love against the bitter backdrop of industry pressures. Your relationship was a gem, rare and precious, glimmering even amid the sparkle of stardom.

Yet, the reality of K-pop stardom is that it is often fleeting and fiercely demanding. As Jiheon’s career soared, propelled by her talent and charisma, the expectations placed on her intensified, like shadows growing longer as the sun sets. With each comeback, the stakes climbed higher, drawing her deeper into the relentless cycle of training, performances, and public appearances.

As the demands of your respective careers pulled you further apart, the strain began to show. Training sessions grew longer and more exhaustive, leaving scant time for romance. Jiheon found herself grappling with a heart pulled in two directions—her dreams, glittering and tangible, clashed with the love she cherished. In her mind, thoughts spiraled: Was it selfish to hold onto this love when her career beckoned?

In moments of quiet reflection, Jiheon wrestled with the haunting belief that letting you go might be an act of love itself. Perhaps distancing herself from you would give her the freedom to reach new heights, allowing her to fully invest in her career. It was a painful paradox—the closer she got to her dreams, the more she felt she had to sacrifice.

Then came the fateful day when Jiheon finally found the courage to speak the words that had been clawing at her insides for weeks. She took a deep, shuddering breath, her hands trembling at her sides. The two of you stood in a quiet corner of the park, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows that danced around your feet.

“I think… I think we should break up.” The words tumbled out like heavy stones, each one crashing down inside you, echoing the unshakable truth that you both had been avoiding.

“It’s better this way, for both of us,” she continued, her gaze dropping to the ground, as if she could will the earth to swallow her pain. The sun flickered through the leaves overhead, but it felt as if the warmth had suddenly vanished, leaving behind an icy chill that seeped into your bones.

The enormity of her words hung in the air, heavy and stark, as if time itself had halted. You could hardly breathe as your tear-filled eyes met hers, searching for some glimmer of hope, something to hold on to. But all you saw was the anguish mirrored in her heart, reflected in those shimmering pools of despair.

“What? Jiheon… Please,” you pleaded, your voice cracking as desperation clawed at your throat. “Can’t we find another way? We’ve been through so much together. I can’t just let you go.”

She took a step back, the physical distance between you somehow amplifying the emotional chasm that had opened up. “You don’t understand,” she replied, her voice breaking as she wiped a tear from her cheek. “I love you but, our relationship is bottlenecking our progress. Things aren’t the way they used to be, and pretending will only hurt us more.”

The pain of each syllable cut deeper than any knife, reverberating within your chest like the tolling of a bell, ominously marking what felt like the end of your world. You longed to reach out, to pull her close and reassure her — both of you — that everything would be okay. But the wall of resolve in her eyes held you back.

“Is this really what you want?” you asked, your heart racing as you grasped for any thread of connection that could pull her back from this precipice. “We can work on this, together.”

Jiheon shook her head, the weight of her decision heavy on her shoulders. “It’s not healthy for us, I can't keep holding you back… or myself.”

With that, the finality of her words settled like an inescapable fog around you. In her belief that this was the right choice, a choice steeped in love and sacrifice, Jiheon felt her spirit fracture, the pieces scattering like fallen leaves caught in a relentless gust of wind.

“Please don’t do this,” you whispered, the vulnerability of your voice revealing just how unprepared you were to let go. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“I know,” her voice quivered, the pain evident in her expression as she stepped closer, reaching for your hand, squeezing it tightly as if to breathe life into the moment. “I'm sorry"

As her fingers slipped from yours, you felt a part of yourself tear away, and all you could do was stand there, motionless, as the world moved on around you, leaving only silence and the bittersweet taste of love lost.

The silence that followed was deafening, an echoing void that enveloped you both. You longed to reach out, to pull her back into your embrace, to tell her that love could be a guiding light rather than a hindrance. But those words caught in your throat, drowned by despair. The choice she made loomed large, instilling a heavy weight of regret that would soon settle in her heart.

-----

Days turned to weeks, and weeks turned to months. Jiheon had once been the girl who laughed in the warmth of love, the one who danced on the threshold of joy with you by her side. Now, she found herself enveloped in the unrelenting spotlight of fame, yet that brightness felt dulled without your light alongside her. Memories of their shared laughter haunted her during moments of solitude, the ghost of your love coloring her world with bittersweet shades of sorrow. As she navigated the bustling stages of her career alone, the emptiness in her chest loomed large, an omnipresent reminder of your absence.

One particular night, Jiheon, trying to shake off the weight of her loneliness, stepped into a downtown club where the pulsating beats reverberated through her body. Surrounded by her group mates, she swallowed a cocktail and attempted to dance mindlessly under flashing lights that painted the room in a kaleidoscope of colors. For a fleeting moment, she felt the flicker of joy in the chaos—an illusion that quickly shattered when her eyes scanned the room.

Amidst the crowd, they landed on a sight that sent her heart racing—you, radiant and alive. You danced with abandon beside another girl, laughter spilling from your lips and merging with the booming bass into a perfect symphony of youth and freedom. The sparkle in your eyes was familiar yet painfully distant, doubling Jiheon’s heartache. A violent pang of jealousy and anger twisted in her gut like a sharp knife. How could you seem so happy without her, so completely unbothered by the void your absence had created in her heart?

In a moment of impulse, Jiheon whipped out her phone and captured a candid photo of you caught mid-laugh, blissfully unaware of the eyes that watched from the shadows. That snapshot froze you in a moment of pure joy, yet it morphed into something darker for Jiheon—a testament to her possessiveness over a love that felt just out of reach. The joyful essence of the photo twisted into a haunting reminder of what could have been, nagging at her heart like a persistent itch.

As the night wore on, the music thumping around her seemed to amplify the mixed feelings flooding through her veins—joy for your happiness mingled with regret for abandoned dreams, longing for the connection they once shared, and an undeniable ache that settled deep within her chest. Was this life of stardom truly worth the heartache and longing? She wrestled with that question as her mind spiraled between the vibrant images of what you had and the person you were now becoming without her presence.

Within the mass of dancers and flashing lights, nostalgia crashed over Jiheon like waves, drowning her in an undeniable truth: sometimes, the glitz and glam of fame pale in comparison to the warmth and richness of love. Her eyes locked onto you from across the room, a smile gracing your lips as you exchanged a casual laugh with a girl from earlier. It made her chest constrict with an unfamiliar ache, the pulse of the music no longer in sync with her own racing heartbeat.

She thumbed her phone, where the image she had taken earlier burned in her gallery. A snapshot of you and that girl, smiling, close enough that it could easily stir rumors. Jiheon knew the chaos such a photo could spark in your carefully curated idol world. A flicker of unease mingled with something darker as she stared at it, the thought of you drifting even an inch further away igniting an unsettling possessiveness inside her.

As the beat thumped, matching the thrum of blood in her ears, something began to click in her mind. Maybe it was the drinks, the warmth of the alcohol unlocking a part of her she hadn’t known existed—one that thrived on the possessive edge coursing through her. The distance she had imposed between the two of you, the careful walls and silences, now felt like chains she’d fastened herself into. The room around her blurred—dancers, lights, and music melding into a shifting, indistinct haze.

A slow smile spread across her lips, soft yet shadowed with an intensity that felt foreign, thrilling. That ever-lingering question looped in her head: Could it truly be too late to find your way back to each other?

The answer, she decided, was simple. No. It wouldn’t be, not if she had anything to do with it.

-----

The next day dawned bright and deceptively warm, sunlight streaming through Jiheon’s bedroom window like a foreboding harbinger of a day meant for clarity. Yet as she sat cross-legged on her bed, chaos swirled within her like a gathering storm. In her hands lay a photo that had the power to irrevocably change everything.

Sobering up, Jiheon’s heart raced as she wrestled with her choice. The image represented a moment of vulnerability—one that, if leaked, could shatter your carefully curated image in the idol world. The thought sent chills coursing through her veins; yet desperation gnawed at her, urging her to take an action that felt both reckless and necessary. She felt ludicrous, turning her cherished memories into a weapon, but her heart battled fiercely with her desperation.

With trembling fingers hovering hesitantly over her phone, Jiheon finally composed a chilling ultimatum: “Meet me at this hotel room tonight, or I’ll leak this photo. I know how much you value your reputation. Don't make me do this.”

As soon as she hit send, a heavy silence enveloped her space. Anxiety pooled in her stomach, and she felt the weight of her decision pressing down on her like an unbearable load. There was no turning back now. She was fully aware that this power play could lead to a scandal that would reverberate through every corner of the entertainment industry. Yet, blinded by emotion, she oscillated between anger and longing—a desperate desire for you to confront the tumultuous feelings they had both been suppressing for far too long.

The moments following were excruciating. Jiheon paced around the small hotel room, her mind racing with questions and regrets. What if you didn’t come? What if you did, but the encounter spiraled out of control? The sound of her own heartbeat thudded in her ears, amplifying the suffocating tension. She glanced at the glowing screen of her phone, waiting for the telltale sign of a response. The room felt colder, the stillness more suffocating than she had anticipated.

-----

Outside Jiheon’s hotel door, you stood in a genuine emotional whirlwind. Underneath the cacophony of your racing heartbeat was an undercurrent of dread. The chilly evening air did nothing to quell the unease gnawing at you. You stood there, grappling with thoughts of what you might find inside. The idol world was merciless, filled with the sharp teeth of scrutiny and public judgment, where one misstep could lead to downfall.

Every fiber in your being urged you to turn and walk away, to deny the pull that had dragged you to this place. Yet, deep down, you knew that this encounter was inevitable—an ending and a beginning all at once. Taking a deep breath, you raised your fist, but paused for a heartbeat, listening to the silence on the other side.

After a moment that felt like an eternity, you knocked on the door, your knuckles barely making contact before it swung open. Jiheon stood there dressed in an oversized sweatshirt that nonchalantly hung off her shoulder, emanating an allure that contradictorily disarmed you even as your heart raced with apprehension. Her casual smirk felt like a mask she wore to hide her true intentions.

“Hey, you made it! Come on in,” she chirped, her voice bubbling with false cheer as she stepped aside to let you enter. The moment you crossed the threshold, a palpable shift in the air hit you. The hotel room was more spacious than you expected, yet it felt stifling. Soft yellow lighting from the bedside lamps cast warm pools that clashed with the cold tension that hovered between you. The room was immaculately tidy, with crisp white sheets tucked tightly over the bed and modern, minimalist décor—a sterile contrast to the storm of emotions brewing in the space.

Jiheon closed the door behind you, and the sound of the lock clicking into place seemed to echo louder than it should, sending a shiver down your spine. The brightness in her eyes dimmed, replaced by an expression heavy with tension. “Thanks for coming. I know this is... unusual,” she said, each word carefully measured, her posture rigid as if bracing for impact. The energy of the room was suffocating, thick with the weight of everything left unsaid.

You took a tentative step forward, eyes darting around for some kind of anchor. A plush armchair sat near the window, where the faint glow of the city bled through gauzy curtains. The muted hum of traffic below seemed worlds away, unable to penetrate the thick atmosphere pressing against your chest. Your gaze settled back on Jiheon, who stood by the door, arms folded, her face a blend of vulnerability and defiance.

“About that picture,” she began, the words slicing through the silence and drawing your attention like a blade. You swallowed hard, feeling a knot tighten in your throat. “Where did you even get it?” The question came out sharper than intended, but you couldn’t mask the desperation behind it.

“Does it matter?” Her eyes narrowed slightly, and she shifted her weight, crossing one ankle over the other as if to project nonchalance. The effect was betrayed by the subtle tension in her jaw. “What matters is that it could ruin everything for you.” She spoke matter-of-factly, her tone unyielding. The polished veneer of the hotel room seemed to close in, amplifying every strained breath. “Your fans will go crazy, their precious, innocent maknae getting it on with a random girl in a club. Don’t even get me started with your label... we both know about your dating ban.” Her voice dropped, and she looked away momentarily, exhaling as if trying to push her doubts aside. “I don’t want all that drama. So here’s the deal.”

A wave of dread washed over you, pooling in your stomach like ice water. “What do you mean, ‘the deal’?” The question was barely more than a whisper, the fear in your voice betraying the bravado you were trying to muster. The room’s silence pressed against your ears, making the faint tick of the wall clock almost deafening.

Jiheon took a step closer, closing the already minimal space between you. The subtle scent of her perfume—a blend of jasmine and something uniquely her—suffused the air, adding to the disorientation. Her eyes glimmered with a mix of determination and something else, something unreadable that made your pulse race. “I’ll delete the photo, but in return, I want… something from you.”

The implication in her words hung between you like a storm cloud. “What are you saying?” you asked, the room’s oppressive heat making it hard to breathe. The Jiheon you knew was warm and disarming, a friend who had stood by you through countless late-night chats and shared secrets. This Jiheon, with her calculating eyes and steady stance, felt foreign.

“Come on, don’t act so surprised,” she said, a smile ghosting her lips without warmth. “The way this industry works, sometimes you have to play the game.” She ran a hand through her hair. “Besides, it’ll be fun. Just one night, and then I’ll make sure the photo disappears forever. No one has to know.”

You felt the room spin, the reality of her words slamming into you with suffocating force. Your eyes flickered to the unmade bed, the impersonal art on the walls, the sterile cleanliness that seemed to mock the chaos between you. The thought of your career unraveling, of headlines splashed across tabloids and the faces of your fans twisted in disappointment, made your hands clench into fists.

“What if I don’t agree?” you managed to say, the words brittle and sharp.

Jiheon leaned back against the corner of the desk, crossing her arms in a gesture that was more defensive than she intended. The gleam in her eyes turned cold. “Then I guess my fingers might just slip, and that photo finds its way to the wrong places. She tilted her head slightly, the edge of her voice softening. “But hey, it’s your choice.”

The quiet that followed was heavy, the dim light casting harsh shadows that stretched across the room like prison bars. Your chest tightened, each breath shallow as the gravity of her ultimatum pulled you deeper into an inescapable spiral.

“Fine. Just... let’s get this over with,” you said, your voice hollow as the words left your mouth. Jiheon’s smile grew, though it was tinged with something bittersweet, her eyes flickering with fleeting uncertainty before hardening into resolve.

“Great! You won’t regret it, I promise,” she replied, her voice silkier now, wrapping around you like a lie.

You couldn't shake the feeling of disgust and anger that bubbled within you. You couldn't believe that you had been manipulated in such a way, that you had allowed yourself to be coerced into something that you knew was wrong.

Jiheon finally took the matter into her own hands. She decided that it was time to get back what was rightfully hers.

You and your ex found yourselves in a dance of passion that was fraught with tension, each movement calculated and deliberate. As you undressed one another, the fabric that fell away seemed to peel back layers of your shared history, revealing a complex tapestry of emotions.

With a sudden burst of energy, Jiheon leapt onto the bed, her vibrance illuminating the otherwise somber space. Her eyes, alight with a mischievous hunger, locked onto yours, and your heart responded with a rapid staccato that matched the intensity of her gaze. It was a shift in dynamics that was both exhilarating and alarming.

"I want you to make me cum," she asserts, her voice a blend of command and seduction that sends shivers down your spine. The weight of her demand hangs heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the power she holds. "If you don't, the photo gets leaked." The threat is clear, and the stakes are high. It’s a game of pleasure and power, and you are unwittingly cast as a key player.

Jiheon's need for sexual fulfillment was palpable, a hunger that had been growing during your time apart. She was determined to reclaim the intimacy and release that she felt had been unjustly withheld. In her eyes, you possessed the skills necessary to satisfy her, and she was resolved to extract every ounce of pleasure she felt she deserved.

Caught in this web of desire and coercion, you face a dilemma that twists your stomach with apprehension. Your career, your reputation, everything you have worked for, hinges on your performance in this delicate situation. With a fortifying breath, you harden your resolve and prepare to meet the challenge head-on.

Your approach is steady, a predator stalking its prey with a singular focus. Jiheon lies before you, her finger crooking in a silent command for you to advance. Her legs part, an invitation—or is it a trap?—that you cannot ignore. You climb onto the bed, positioning yourself at the apex of her desire.

With a grip born of determination and a hint of aggression, you lifted her legs, draping them over your shoulders. Her gasp was a fleeting concern, quickly overshadowed by the task at hand. Your sole objective was to deliver the ecstasy Jiheon so fervently demanded.

You commenced with a series of slaps, your length striking against her most sensitive flesh, eliciting visceral and raw reactions. Then, with a thrust fueled by gravity and desperation, you plunged into her depths. Her body's undulations were unmistakable signs of pleasure, confirming that you were indeed striking the right chords within her.

Each stroke is met with increasing wetness, her arousal a slick testament to the intensity of your union. You drive deeper, using your natural lubrication to facilitate a rhythm that is both forceful and fluid. Your bodies move in, a dance as old as time, yet under these circumstances, it feels like uncharted territory.

Sweat began to drip as you continued to thrust with speed. The heat radiating from the former couple was intoxicating. Your body moved in perfect rhythm with hers. They would meet each other halfway just like it did during your time together. She moaned and writhed beneath you, her body tensing up as she got closer and closer to the edge.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum, kiss me," Jiheon demanded, her tone leaving little to no room for argument. With no choice, you leaned down and gave her a kiss, a kiss full of regret and hesitance. But Jiheon wasn't having it. She forced her way into your mouth and twirled her tongue around yours, asserting her dominance in this intimate moment.

Finally, just as she asked for, she couldn't take it any longer. She cried out in pleasure as she reached her climax, "YES, FUCK ME HARDER, HARDER" her body shaking and shuddering. You could feel every single one of her muscles clenching and contracting around your cock as you kept pounding out of frustration. But you knew from the way she quivered and screamed that you had done enough to save your career.

As she tried to come down from her high, Jiheon found herself becoming more and more aroused again, as her ex was relentless with his movement. The touch was confident and skilled, and she felt herself getting closer and closer to another release, and she could feel you too as your cock would twitch and pulse inside her.

Jiheon’s eyes sparkled with mischief, she had been anticipating this moment. She could see the tension building in your body, and she knew that you were on the brink of release. She planned her next move, determined to make this encounter one that you would never forget.

In a swift and calculated motion, Jiheon locked her legs around your waist in a vice-like grip, effectively trapping you in place. She could feel the surprise and confusion radiating coming from her hex, but she didn't give you a chance to react. With a sultry smile curling at the corners of her lips, she uttered her threat with a seductive purr.

"If you so much as think about pulling out now, I'll make good on my promise to leak that photo of you to the entire world," her voice dripping with confidence and determination.

You stared at her in disbelief, mind racing as you tried to come up with a way to escape. But Jiheon was prepared for this. She tightened her legs around your waist pulling you closer and making it clear that she was not going to let go.

"I mean it," her voice stern and unyielding. "You'd better finish what you started, or else I'll have no choice but to make good on my threat."

The gravity of her words hung heavy in the air. Jiheon's tone was firm, unyielding, and laced with a hint of warning that made it abundantly clear that she was dead serious about following through on her threat.

"You need to give me everything you've got," she continued, her voice taking on a softer, more sensual tone. "I want every single pump of your cum filling me up completely. Only then will I be satisfied."

Her demands were both bold and brazen, an assertion of her own desires and a challenge to meet her needs. Jiheon's words, coupled with the feeling of her legs still wrapped tightly around you, left little room for doubt - she intended to see this through to the end, and she expected you to do the same.

Your heart raced as you felt trapped and powerless in Jiheon's grasp. You knew she was not bluffing about the situation, but also knew she was capable of causing a scene and ruining your reputation. With no other choice, you accepted you fate and continued your assault.

Jiheon's smile grew wider as she felt you surrender. She wrapped her arms around your neck and pulled you closer, relishing in the control she had.

"Jiheon… Please." The phrase was so simple, just two words, but the desperation in your voice made it hard to tell if you were pleading for mercy or on the verge of surrendering.

Nearing your climax, you attempted a hasty and sneaky quick pull-out maneuver, hoping to avoid the finality of the act. But Jiheon's strong and toned dancer's legs, honed through years of training and performance, refused to let him escape. She kept your hips firmly and deeply inside her, ensuring that you spilled every last drop.

Jiheon, nearing her release as well, used her legs to help you pump inside her.

"Ugh, Jiheon, don’t," you groaned, running your fingers through your hair as you felt the familiar sensation building inside of you "Shit, I can't hold it in any longer." Your tone was a mixture of anger and defeat, body becoming weak and you shuddered as you reached you climax.

"No!" Your voice cracked in desperation, your body trembling as you tried to hold back, but Jiheon’s grip was relentless. "Yes!" she moaned, her voice full of satisfaction, pumping into you harder, forcing your body deeper as your resolve shattered. Your hips bucked involuntarily, cock twitching as you spilled inside her, pulse after pulse, completely filling her up. Your pleas were drowned out by her triumphant cries, their bodies locked together as the heat of his release poured into her, unstoppable despite his struggle.

Jiheon’s smile, once warm and inviting, twisted into a smug, satisfied smirk. She had won, achieving exactly what she wanted. You were weak, utterly spent and defeated, your body betraying you as she basked in the triumph of your surrender, her victory undeniable in the heat of your aftermath.

Exhausted from the exertion and overwhelmed by the intensity of the experience, you collapsed against Jiheon, your body going limp as you surrendered completely. Every muscle felt drained, leaving you helpless and vulnerable in her embrace. Jiheon’s fingers wove through your damp hair, but her touch wasn’t comforting—it was possessive, a reminder that you were now hers. She leaned closer, her breath hot against your ear as she whispered, her voice dripping with satisfaction and control.

"Good boy," she murmured, the words laced with a dark promise. It wasn’t just praise; it was a claim, a subtle warning that you were under her dominance now, and there would be no escape.

Jiheon's arms encircle you with an intensity that feels like a claim, a branding of ownership that sends shivers down your spine. Her heartbeat, a steady rhythm against your own, seems to mock the chaos that is unfolding within you. This is not the tender embrace you had imagined in your dreams; it is the firm grasp of someone who has orchestrated this scenario to perfection.

Jiheon's voice broke the silence, her words slicing through your confusion with surgical precision. "We're dating now," she stated, her tone deceptively casual, yet it carried the weight of an irrevocable decree. There was no hint of doubt in her declaration, no invitation for debate. Your heart, already pounding from the shock of the situation, stuttered at her announcement. Dating? The word echoed in your head, a concept that you had never consented to, a path you had never agreed to walk with her.

Panic flutters in your chest, its wings beating frantically against the cage of Jiheon’s possessiveness. You had never anticipated that your ex, with her playful banter and shared secrets, could morph into something so controlling, so suffocating. Before you could gather your thoughts to protest, Jiheon’s embrace tightens, a silent message that resistance is futile. Her body presses against yours, not with the gentle warmth of a lover, but with the unyielding force of a conqueror.

You lay there, trapped in the ironclad embrace of someone you no longer recognized. Jiheon’s triumphant smile, etched with victory, watched the realization dawn on your face. There was no escape, no chance to rewind and undo the twisted knot that your relationship had become. Her eyes, once windows to a kindred spirit, now held a glint of domination that chilled you to the core.

Jiheon shifted slightly, still catching her breath, and you barely registered the subtle movement as she reached over to the nightstand. You felt her stir, saw the glint of her phone as she grabbed it, but it wasn’t until she gave you a mischievous grin that your heart lurched in your chest. Without hesitation, Jiheon spread her legs, revealing the undeniable evidence of your intimacy still glistening between her thighs. Your pulse quickened as she angled the phone, snapping a selfie that captured both of you, making it appear as though you were the one who had taken the photo.

To add to the cruelty, Jiheon crafted a look of mock terror on her face, making it seem as though you had forced her into the act. Her expression was so convincing that it sent a wave of dread crashing over you. Your stomach twisted as you watched her approve the photo, her smirk growing darker by the second.

A surge of panic hit you, and you lunged forward, trying to grab the phone from her hand. "Hey, give that back!" you demanded, your voice trembling with fear.

But Jiheon easily pulled the phone out of reach, a low, sinister laugh escaping her lips. "Oh no, baby," she purred, her eyes glinting with dangerous amusement. "I’m keeping this. You know… as insurance."

Your heart pounded in your chest. "Insurance? What do you mean?" you asked, dread sinking deeper into your bones.

Jiheon sat up slightly, her gaze hardening as she stared directly into your eyes. "If you ever, and I mean ever, break up or even just think about leaving me," she said slowly, her voice cold and deliberate, "I’ll leak this photo." She said with a smug tone, "I’ll release a statement about how you forced yourself on me, how you got me drunk and manipulated me. I’ll make sure you will never have a job again. You might even end up in jail." She tilted her head, her smile growing more twisted.

Your blood ran cold as her words settled in. Your mind raced, but there was nothing you could do. "You… you can’t be serious," you stammered, fear choking your voice. "You wouldn’t really—"

"Try me," Jiheon interrupted, her tone now deadly serious. Her gaze never wavered, her smile fading into something darker, more threatening. "I’m not afraid to ruin you; you’re mine to ruin." Then, just as quickly, her expression softened, her voice taking on a sickly sweet tone as she tilted her head, mimicking a look of innocence. "But we don’t have to worry about that, right, baby?"

Her innocent eyes contrasted with the threat she had just laid out, and you felt trapped, suffocated by the power she held over you. You swallowed hard, knowing you had no choice. "No…" you whispered, defeated. "No, we don’t."

"Good," Jiheon cooed, setting her phone back down on the nightstand with a satisfied smile. She nestled herself against you, her arms wrapping tightly around your waist. The weight of her body against yours didn’t feel comforting—it felt like a cage. "I’m glad we understand each other. Now, cuddle me."

Your chest tightened, the suffocating realization settling in. She had complete control, and there was nothing you could do to stop her. Reluctantly, you wrapped your arms around her, feeling the cold grip of your new reality sinking in. Jiheon’s contented hum filled the room, her satisfaction palpable.

Her voice was suddenly sweet and light, almost dreamy, as she uttered the words, "I love you." The sentiment was delivered with a softness and affection that could disarm even the most guarded heart, reminiscent of a confession from a school girl completely in love. Her eyes sparkled with an innocence that was both endearing and convincing. The grin that adorned her face was the epitome of purity, creating an illusion of a genuine moment of affection that seemed to bridge two souls in perfect harmony.

But as the recipient of this sudden outpouring of emotion, you found yourself momentarily paralyzed, unable to respond right away. The silence that followed was deafening, and in that brief interlude, the atmosphere shifted. The sweet, lovestruck girl before you vanished, replaced by someone whose intentions were far more malevolent.

In an abrupt and terrifying transformation, Jiheon's smile disappeared, and her eyes, once filled with warmth, now glinted with a sinister edge. With a swift and unexpected move, she used one hand to grab your cheeks, her thumb pressing firmly against one side of your face while her fingers dug into your skin on the other. She pulled your face toward hers, the grip both demanding and unyielding. "Say it," she hissed, her voice no longer soft but sharp and commanding. The sudden change in her demeanor left you bewildered, your mind racing to catch up with the rapidly deteriorating situation.

"Say what?" you managed to ask, your voice betraying the fear that was beginning to take hold. Her response was chilling, her fingers tightening around your waist, nails piercing your skin ever so slightly. "Say that you love me," she insisted, her tone leaving no room for hesitation.

Her warm, affectionate facade had crumbled, revealing a person you barely recognized—someone who was willing to go to terrifying lengths to make you submit. A shiver of fear shot through you, mingling with disbelief, yet your mind struggled to process this abrupt shift. You tried to gather your words, stammering as you attempted to defuse the tension, to understand this dangerous new dynamic without provoking her further. But the silence that stretched between you seemed to amplify her anticipation, her eyes never wavering from yours, watching every twitch, every flicker of hesitation.

Then, with a swift and brutal decisiveness, Jiheon’s expression hardened. Her features contorted with impatience and a dark, twisted determination that sent another wave of panic surging through you. Before you could react, her other hand shot down and clamped around you, gripping your flaccid sensitive member with a force that made you gasp in pain, your body reflexively tensing under the unexpected pressure. The pain was sharp, searing, and impossible to ignore, cutting through your paralysis and grounding you in the raw, terrifying reality of the situation.

"Say it!" she hissed, her voice laced with venom, a brutal command that left no room for resistance. Her eyes bore into yours, ablaze with a fervent intensity that was both horrifying and unrecognizable—a look of possession, of absolute control, that left you feeling exposed and powerless. This wasn’t the Jiheon you knew; this was someone consumed by a desperate, obsessive need, someone who would not tolerate defiance.

Her grip tightened further, making you wince as a jolt of agony shot through you, stealing your breath. You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat, strangled by fear and confusion. Her nails dug into your skin, the slight prickling sensation a reminder that her affection had twisted into something far darker, far more dangerous than you’d ever anticipated.

"Say it," she repeated, her voice lowering to a near-growl, each syllable carrying an unspoken threat. The intensity in her gaze held you captive, her fingers pressing with a deliberate cruelty that sent a tremor through your body. She was relentless, her patience long spent, and the chilling certainty hit you—she wasn’t going to stop until you gave her exactly what she wanted.

"I... I love you," you stammered, the words dragged from you by fear and desperation. The moment they left your lips, her demeanor shifted again. Her grip released, and she softened, a satisfied smile curling at the edges of her mouth. She brushed her hand gently over your cheek as if in some twisted form of affection, her fingers trailing down your skin in a mockingly gentle touch.

"There we go," she murmured, her voice slipping back into that feigned tenderness. "That wasn’t so hard, was it?" She nestled closer, fitting her body seamlessly against yours as though nothing had happened. Her arms slid around you, draping over you in a way that felt suffocating rather than comforting. She hummed softly, her head resting on your shoulder, her breath warm against your neck.

You lay there, rigid, as the reality of your situation settled in. Her embrace, though gentle, felt like a cage tightening around you, each moment drawing you further into her control. Her fingers started to trace slow, lazy circles on your arm, an almost tender gesture that only added to the disquiet churning within you. Every brush of her fingers felt like a reminder that you were trapped, ensnared in her twisted idea of love.

Jiheon lifted her head and gazed at you with wide, adoring eyes, her expression teetering on the edge of mania, her gaze brimming with an unsettling, almost feverish devotion. Her arms tightened around you, the grip bruising as if she were afraid you'd slip through her fingers if she didn’t hold on tight enough. Without warning, she leaned in, pressing her lips to yours in a kiss that was fierce and smothering, the force of it stealing the breath from your lungs. Her mouth moved over yours with a hunger that bordered on obsession, each kiss deeper, more desperate, as though she needed to consume you entirely to feel complete.

When she finally pulled away, her lips didn’t stop—they traveled over your cheek, planting fervent kisses that turned into nips, her teeth grazing your skin in playful bites that grew sharper, more possessive with each one. Her mouth found your neck, where her kisses became relentless, almost frantic, punctuated by gentle, teasing bites that left faint stings in their wake. Each kiss, each bite felt like a claim, a brand, marking you as her own with every touch.

Between her fervent kisses, her breath brushed hot against your skin as she murmured in a soft, almost reverent tone, “You’re mine now.” Her voice dripped with a disturbing sweetness, a tenderness warped by the intensity of her obsession. “We belong together… forever.” Her lips found the curve of your shoulder, where she sank her teeth in, not hard enough to break skin, but enough to send a jolt of sensation through you, a reminder of her dominance. Her arms locked around you, pulling you impossibly closer, her embrace as unyielding as steel.

“No one else understands,” she whispered, her tone almost soothing, though her grip was anything but gentle. Her fingers traced up your spine, leaving trails of heat wherever they touched, her nails digging in just enough to leave faint imprints on your skin. “No one else could love you like I do,” she cooed, her voice lilting with an affection that sounded both sweet and sinister. “We’re perfect together, you know that, don’t you?”

She tilted her head, looking at you with that same unrelenting gaze, her fingers running through your hair, tugging gently before pressing another kiss to your jaw, her teeth grazing your skin in another possessive bite. Each touch, each whispered word held an unbreakable claim, binding you to her in a love that had long since spiraled into obsession.

You didn’t respond, but she didn’t seem to notice. She was lost in her own world, one where your silence was simply acceptance, where her love—twisted and possessive as it was—was something you reciprocated. Her fingers tangled in your hair, stroking and twirling, while her lips pressed over your skin again and again, each kiss carrying a desperation that unnerved you.

To her, this was the culmination of a perfect romance, the moment she’d always dreamed of. Her eyes glistened with a feverish joy as she whispered, "You and me… forever." She buried her face in the crook of your neck, her arms squeezing tighter, her body practically molding against yours. Her breathing was rapid and shallow, as though her happiness was so overwhelming that even air couldn’t fully reach her.

You lay there, stiff and helpless, your heart pounding as she continued her endless string of kisses and whispered confessions. She was clinging to you as if you were the only thing keeping her tethered to reality—yet it was clear her reality was a world built entirely on her delusions. She seemed blissfully unaware of your discomfort, every soft word, every fervent kiss drawing you deeper into her twisted world.

As her grip tightened, you knew with a chilling certainty that Jiheon wouldn’t let you go. In her mind, you were bound together, trapped forever in her obsessive love, with no hope of escape.

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comfortless · 1 year ago

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hades! konig and persephone! reader

content/warnings: 18+ minors do not interact. abduction, voyeurism, dubcon, not very explicit smut.

notes: this has been on my mind for an eternity actually thank you sweet anon for finally encouraging me to write it out! if you celebrate, merry christmas! and if not consider this just a lil gift for absolutely no reason apart from for being my first Kö request. 💕

A hollow grows within him the moment his gaze meets hers. A chance crossing whilst collecting a rare offering of fruit laid out just for him. Most mortals wouldn’t beckon his attention, and the gods often left him just as well. He knows better than to take insult and become reckless, though… recklessness comes as easily as breathing when his stare settles on her across the glade. She twirls in silent dance, pirouetting carefully as if to avoid crushing the nature that springs up, brushing against her soles. Her voice picks up in a song when she notes the figure watching her from a distance, her cadence no less beautiful than any choir despite the flighty waver in her tone.

When the nymphs rise up from the stream to listen, he stands transfixed for a moment as they pull her in with them for a more elaborate dance, voices all melding until they break into a chorus of giggles and stories.

It should have been left at that.

She walks an earth made for her; flowers blossoming beneath her bare soles, each root extending for just a chance to brush against tender flesh, a breeze that flits gently against her hair. The daughter of Demeter, something unattainable, too precious to be dirtied by the howling abyss below her feet.

He is tethered to darkness and unknowns, an enigma with dried blood beneath his fingernails; the only songs he hears are screams. He’s since stolen flowers from the meadows she dances in. Beautiful peonies and soft green things that smell sweet. Flowers don’t bloom in the dark, they wither and dry.

Days are spent in melancholic longing, nights his roaring grief melds with the wailing of lost souls. Ugly and tainted noises that he dreams will reach her ears, that she will come to him with her lashes wet with tears, wrap him in her arms and quiet all but her own voice as she tells him that he’s more beautiful than her rivers and her blooms.

Yet, she never does.

König takes it upon himself to walk the land of mortals, teemed with life and pleasures more often now. He pulls himself from below with unnatural fire behind his eyes, a horrible, yearning abyss in place of the feathery, clumsy love that he’s watched so many others allow for themselves.

She notices him while he watches her bathe amongst the nymphs, stood upright and imposing beneath the shade of a tree. Each time, while the nymphs shy away with giggles and hands curled over their breasts, she merely keeps her eyes on him; lips-parted and pulse raging. He knows, would swear by it, that his obsession is not entirely one-sided.

Once, she chooses to wave at him, a demure flick of her wrist while his stare remains fixed upon her. The droplets of water from the curve of her neck, down to the swell of her breasts and the pebbled nipples there— down, further into the water that envelopes her and sends his mind to flicker, a roaring flame building from his chest to his groin.

All of his frustrations pale and cower at the fantasy that he just may be able to grant himself the liberty of sinking into something writhing and warm from just one, simple gesture.

He knows he’s fucked, because his first thought after the lullaby of attraction subsides is to poke her just a little; prod her and see what makes her cry the hardest, blanket her in the shadow of himself and pick her apart like a vulture to a cadaver, do things to her that no man ever has or should. It’s not right, and he has to force himself to turn away, the fabric of the veil obscuring his face as he slinks back into the dark where he belongs. Away from the untouchable maiden who seems to haunt him endlessly with her teasing.

The giggles and splashes of the nymphs whisper through the air like the chirping of birds. Though, one voice stands out above the rest of the noise, causes him to halt in his tracks.

“Why does he never speak to us?”

Her voice, so sweet, asking about him when she should be speaking of nothing but the beauty surrounding her, the warmth of the sun and never the cold darkness of the moon.

It’s eating away at him, he realizes, when he can no longer satisfy himself. Nights lain in a haze, staring up at blackened walls with his length in hand. All it takes is the memory of wet lashes and a soft smile, usually. Her beauty is enough to bring even him to his knees, yet, he finds himself instead on the brink of hysteria the first night he finds a vision of her is not sufficient enough to reach the brilliant white haze of a climax.

The thought of stealing her away from her world of beauty to drag her down into the dark with him fills him with both elation and a terrible guilt. Zeus himself is no different; the thought shouldn’t warrant a seeping coldness in his veins, nor should it have caused him to spill his seed into his hand with only a mere flick of the pad of his thumb over his tip, yet it accomplishes both. A waste, when it should be buried deep inside of his beloved.

It takes only two nights for him to plot, to have Gaia choose to favor him, and on the third day the Narcissus flower blooms, pretty and golden. It echoes false promises, softness and beauty beyond even the daughter of Demeter’s imaginations. She will hate him, she will. Her very soul will sour the moment she lays her eyes on him next, but eventually… she will come to understand, return his love with a whisper of her own. Lightly, at best, but it would still be more than he had ever known.

He watches the roots of the plant from below, a pinprick of warm light shining down. The thumps of footsteps overhead, shaking down loose soil like raindrops, giggles like crackling thunder. She’s roaming about with her nymphs again, gentle with her and all of her beauty. After watching her for so very long, he’s more than certain they will be braiding the flowers and falling asleep after fits of laughter with the taste of fruit on their tongues. Only, she’s condemned herself by being so predictable. She will fall, not into soft grasses with a woman’s arms thrown over her, but directly into his own. She won’t eat the fruit of the earth, but drink his wine and allow him to lose himself in her flesh, bedded down against the pelts of beasts and blackened out by shadows.

The wait isn’t long. Her voice breaks through the quiet of the earth below her feet, seems to light up even the space between the two of them as her footfalls halt only several paces away.

“Look at this one!,” she calls out.

Several steps follow after her as one of the ladies of the river comes to join her. He imagines the smile on his beloved’s face, the way her body curves as she kneels down to his trap and his fingers twitch in anticipation of what’s to come.

“Maybe not that one, sweet,” the nymph warns. “There are prettier ones by the bank.”

König can feel his jaw tighten, eyelids pausing to narrow up at the small light as he tries, forces himself to believe that this was fated. She wouldn’t turn away— she couldn’t.

“No... just look at it. We’ve not seen one so lovely since last spring.”

“What if someone else planted it for themselves?”

“But… I want it.”

She sounds so pitiful, so gentle, and he can feel that swell of heat curling inside of him again. The urge to simply love her feels all-consuming with each word that passes from her mouth.

The two above giggle to themselves at her mischief, before finally, the roots begin to move from a gentle tug above. In a matter of seconds, the entire plant has been uprooted. For a daughter of nature to not long for its beauty would be unrealistic, yet he still exhales his relief. The earth riots beneath the women’s feet, splintering cracks and loud discordance echo through the valley. The nymph’s shrieks join the disarray as her featherlight footfalls lead her far, far away from what belongs to him: the dark, the rot, and now her.

With so little time to react, she falls headfirst into the abyss, clutching the narcissus tightly between her soft breasts. Waiting arms are raised to the glimpse of sun and beauty to catch her as he pulls her tightly against his chest, tucks her head against a broad shoulder and grasps at her waist. Whatever he had imagined her flesh to feel like paled in comparison to her warmth, the softness that gives with each press of a digit that makes her tense beneath his touch.

She’s crying, shaking, terrified as she weakly raises her head and offers him a smile. It’s the kind of smile that screams savior, and he can’t bring himself to correct her. No one has ever looked at him with such tenderness.

Everything quiets the moment she looks up to him like that, after condemning herself to him as though she knows nothing of men and gods. She looks at him like he’s an angel, in turn he bites his tongue so hard he can feel the pinpricks of blood and soreness blossom from the wound. He knows he isn’t good, but the heavens have got their filth, too.

“Thank you.” She speaks in a whisper as the world above falls back into place, blanketing them both in shadow and the scent of soil and brimstone. Politeness seems unnecessary, now, though he places her gently onto her feet.

He’s far too mesmerized to stop himself from dropping to his knees in front of her and trailing a hand from her knee to her thigh, squeezing flesh so warm that the very feeling lingers pleasantly against his palm.

If a god couldn’t pluck him from this emptiness and set him on a right path, perhaps a goddess could, as he has always imagined. It’s only confirmed the instant he realizes she isn’t flinching away from his touch.

“I didn’t save you,” he explains calmly.

He’s struck down titans, claimed rulership over the underworld, and yet nothing has made him feel smaller than the fretful look in her eyes as she looks down to him kneeling before her like little more than a common man. As if to provide comfort, selfishly to himself, his massive hands drift higher to rest on her hips still wet with river water and blades of grass clinging to her just as he has longed to do. For what’s felt like an eternity of waiting, of pining, only to have it end with something as simple as a flower.

“I brought you here.”

She’s still beautiful when she cries; a palm is clasped over her mouth, eyes swimming as she trembles in his grip. Of course, she knows what this is about without ever having to ask, yet she still does as if to plead him to tell her that her thoughts are all wrong— that she’s safe and will return to her lovely friends, to her mother that would assuredly be worried sick and furious.

The rise to his feet feels like a mile long stretch, whilst he keeps her caged between the dirty wall and the vast expanse of chest. He shushes her with a gentle tone, wipes her tears away with the ghosting of fingertips before pushing up the veil covering his face to lie claim to her mouth as though his very life depended upon it. Perhaps it did. Though he did not fear Demeter, nor his brothers should she call upon them, he feared not having this ethereal, gentle thing at his side. He feared the creep of loneliness that ravaged his bed each night.

She sighs against his mouth, but does not reciprocate. Everything about her is tense and stressed, a wild mare preparing to kick out for the first time. His tongue lolls out to lap against her soft lips, just twice before he forces himself to part from her.

His beloved brushes away stray tears from her cheeks with the meat of her palms, shivering just a little as she tries to force herself to straighten up, appear braver despite the way she teeters on the edge of falling apart so easily before him. The heavy gaze of obsession fixed upon his face turns further predacious when she apologizes for not being able to help herself in response.

“I didn’t know it was yours,” she explains, holding out the ruined flower to him in one, shaking hand. She protests in her own way, eternally kind, but it all falls on deaf ears as he brushes the petals from her palm and takes her up into his arms again. With an arm beneath the backs of her knees and the other wrapped tightly around her middle, he leads her deeper into the underworld.

A mere taste wouldn’t do.

Her protests are nothing more than soft sniffles when he does take her to his bed of pelts, her arm even thrown over his shoulder as her body presses tightly to him. He thinks for only a moment that he could take his time, stop this all before she truly does grow to loathe him, but the descent into the bed only fortifies his resolve; his belief that this gentle woman of the earth, who smells of magnolia and clear waters belonged entirely to him. For now and forevermore.

“You are to be my wife.”

That quiets her for a moment, her eyes finally meeting his once more as he hovers over her, a palm to either side of her head. She has a mind to shyly curl her hand against her chest then, centered between her breasts which rise and fall with each flighty breath. It’s not panic, but more— curiosity, a misleading thing that he takes to be acceptance until she graces him with a mere murmur of her voice again.

“I don’t belong here.”

König knows that she doesn’t belong in a place like this, for all her grace to be lost to the cold, the rot; his kingdom is nothing but a wasteland riddled with the dead and subjects who take up the mantle of cruelty in his stead. The thought of actually allowing her to go instills rage and melancholy so quickly, he curls his fingers into the fur below to keep himself from flinching.

“You will.”

A digit reaches to trail across her bottom lip, tentative, but the need to touch overwhelms him past the point of caring for much else. To his amazement, she still does not push him away.

“How could that be?”

He doesn’t respond.

More than bedding her, a matter more pressing pushes to the forefront of his mind. Though he knows the likelihood of anyone being aware of her disappearance is nonexistent, a mere whisper from the beaks of crows by this time, he would do well to ensure that she wasn’t leaving. Just as every other soul resigned to dwell here with him, she too would remain.

“You’re famished,” he whispers the suggestion as he splays a palm out over her bare abdomen, only backing away enough to allow her a small length of space between them.

Her concerned stare shoots from his palm to his veil in an instant before she weakly nods her head and props herself up on her elbows.

“Quite… yes.”

She allows herself to be pulled into his lap without a fuss, doesn’t make mention of the hardened cock beneath her. His mind is swimming with the fantasies that kept him tame on so many nights without her as he presses his nose against her temple. A shallow intake of breath, and her lips part readily for him as he pushes the sweet pomegranate seed into her mouth, savoring the brush of her tongue against his fingertip. She eats without thought, never knowing how she’s tethered herself to his plane.

There’s an offering of sweet wine followed by a gathering of honeysuckle for her to sip the nectar from as well before he’s convinced she’s pliant enough. Despite the desire raging within him for all of this time, he would not be cruel to her. The thought of hurting this sweet, little dream doesn’t excite him. It’s her love that he wants, not her anguish.

He lies her back with sweet whispers, gentle caresses as he listens to her murmurs in response. She speaks of the stories only small creatures would know; the way the winds change and the rivers flood, the prettiest places she’s been. No fruit has ever tasted sweeter to her than the pomegranate, and nothing has ever filled him with such emotion as the moment he penetrates her.

He speaks to her through it, tries to, whilst he’s overcome with a pleasure that assuredly no other has ever had the blessing of. She affixes herself perfectly to him, clinging to him as he takes her with gentle thrusts. Gritted teeth and barely contained grunts are met with dulcet mewls as her hands reach for his. His heart aches, truly, at the knowledge that she isn’t meant for this place; his kingdom is nothing but suffering, and she belongs beneath the sun in meadows of flowers. His last thrust is deep, reminds him of the places he dares not tread often, the domains of his brothers, pillow soft clouds and a heaven far above, lost to him.

It’s her consoling him when he fills her to bursting with his seed— delicate arms curling around his head, cradling him against her breasts as she silenced the tears he hadn’t even realized he had shed. He had damned her, yet her soul had not soured; not all flowers withered in the dark.

The endless night is easier on his beloved after the first. She visits with the other souls and comes to him for comfort when the screams and cries in the darkness become too much to bear. She’s less fragile than he had anticipated when she demands he bring her home, and those demands so often end with little else than König taking her into his arms to lead her elsewhere. The underworld can be beautiful too, when seated upon a throne being hand fed by a man that knows little more than to blanket her in as much softness as he can muster. He tells her of the titanomachy, of the white tree, of anything to keep her entertained. His tongue does not shy from telling her that he loves her, too, often met with a shy glance or a soft giggle. Not outright disdain, and for now it feels enough.

She cries often, in longing for her mother and her friends, though never over this love she had never sought herself. Her loneliness only fuels her need for comfort. Selfishly, he believes that he’s saved the night she willingly wraps her arms around him, pulls him close and falls asleep nestled against his chest.

— — —

With the reliance on mortal offerings and Demeter’s anguish having been brought to light with seasons of failed harvests, it was only a matter of time before she was forced away from him. The months without her feel dreadful and empty, but he doesn’t dare disturb her while she walks the earth at her mother’s side. The agreement was beneficial for all of the gods and goddesses, and he knew better than to tread upon it by rushing to her like little more than a pleading dog. When winter took hold, bathing the lands in its icy touch and withering the plants she cherished and freezing over the rivers her nymphs played in, she would return to him as she must.

Each time is different. His beloved is not simply a thoughtless vessel as many of his subordinates. She is the most incredible thing he’s ever had the joy of meeting.

When she returns in tears, calling to him for his comfort he does not hesitate to kiss them all away and remind her that her summers will return and everything above will be just as it was on the day that he brought her below.

Sometimes, she’s angry, jealous even. She asks him often why he doesn’t come to see her while she’s away. He is her husband, after all. Was there anyone else in which he spent his nights with? Someone fairer than even she? The satisfaction of seating her on his cock, satisfying her as she does him on their shared throne far out rivals even ruling the domain itself. He would do anything to prove to her that she was his only; the sole thing he even thought of whilst her mind was filled with new songs and tales from the nymphs she spent her time away with.

Never has she returned with a gift.

Yet, she stumbles back into his realm clutching a small satchel, dripping with the scent of a juice sweet and familiar. A pleasant smile paints her features as she seats herself next to him on the throne. The bench of marble felt far too vast and dreadful to hold someone so delicate, the sight is something he’s grown accustomed to; emptiness is replaced with familiarity seeing her interact with anything here. It may not be home to her, but something in the way she looks to him— as she always had with tenderness, makes him question if a part of her sees him as home.

“I’ve brought something back for you,” she chimes as she pats her thigh.

Each time was different, but it had never been like this before.

He pulls himself to her side before slumping down to rest his head against her, tracing his fingertips along the length of her leg as his gaze drops almost sheepishly.

“Did you?”

She hums in reply, plucking one of the seeds from the satchel before slipping her hand beneath the veil to feed him. His lips part as he takes in the flavor of the aril, the honeyed taste almost akin to the look in her eyes.

“Just like…” She trails off for a moment as she lowers her head to press a kiss to the cheek of his veiled face. The delicate laugh that follows is unlike any he’s heard from her prior, it’s unique, saved solely for him.

“The six that I fed to you?” He asks her quietly, as he pulls himself away from her to meet her eyes directly. The air around them feels thick, loosely charged with a feeling that he can’t quite place; an intensity that he’s never felt before. Any groaning or wailing off in the abyss is silent now, just quiet words spoken.

Things have always felt warmer since her descent, but he’s learned to not expect anything more than she was willing to give. Still, hope cinches his heart tighter than it ever did prior. Even in battle, slaying his father alongside his brothers, he had never felt his heart race the way it does now.

She nods her head, opening up the satchel just wide enough to reveal the other five arils.

“I don’t think that I understand.”

“You should.”

He mulls over that for a moment before the fog finally clears. Any doubt that he had is remedied by a mere two words. He stares at her dumbly, searching her eyes for any hint that this is some horrible, cruel trick; that the implication is something he’s horribly misunderstood.

She couldn’t possibly come to love him… could she?

“To tie you to me,” she says softly.

The smile remains on her face when she closes the distance to kiss him. Not over the veil, but beneath it this time.

Her descent was one of a selfish longing, and his felt as though he was plunging into a world of flowers.

#König x reader #konig x reader #könig x you #konig x you #König #konig #cod fanfiction #konig fanfiction #cod fanfic

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xxxdreamscapexxx · 5 months ago

Text

The witch in the woods

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Word count: 9.4k

Summary: You dreamt of that woman again. The one with hair like dying flames and eyes so green, they almost shone like jewels. The one you've seen ever since you were little. She was leading you somewhere, deep into the forest, where you were forbidden to go and this time, she took you farther than you've ever been, to a place you could hardly believe existed. When you wake and make your way to the woods, you finally find her... But there is a monster after you too. Running for your life, you let her lead you to a temple. A place where her revelations will change your life forever.

Warnings: This is a bit dark. Descriptions of death and violence, descriptions of past abuse and imprisonment... This will feature a slightly dark Wanda.

Masterlist with all my works.

You woke up with a start in the middle of the night, cold sweat covering your body, your chest heaving and your heart beating wildly. You’d dreamt of that woman again. The one with hair like dying flames and eyes so green, they almost shone like jewels. You remember her plush lips forming words you couldn’t quite make out, the sound of her voice drowned out, as if there was an invisible wall between you. It was always like that. You didn’t dream of her every day, you’d gone weeks without seeing her, yet when you dreamt of her, it was always like this. Ever since you were little. You could see her quite clearly, but you could never hear her. She was leading you somewhere, deep into the forest, where you were forbidden to go, but if she ever reached out, tried to touch you, you could always feel that wall between you, separating you, pushing her back. Tonight was the same. You had travelled the familiar path in the forest, the same one she always led you through, until you had reached a strange stone structure, carved into the face of a cliff. You’d never seen that before. She’d never managed to take you this far, before you woke. The structure was built like an ancient temple with an entryway, just large enough for a single person to pass through and though it seemed abandoned, you could see the light of torches flickering there. The woman beckoned you closer, walking backwards, her eyes fixed on you as she passed the two stone giants that stood guard in this ancient place and made her way inside. She stood in the light of the torches, her shadow spilling across the dusty stone floor, as she curled a single finger, inviting you to step through.

You tried, your steps light, as if you were walking on clouds, but as soon as you tried to pass through the threshold, an invisible force held you back. You could step no further than this. And no matter how much the woman held out her hand and offered it to you, you could not take it. She seemed to realize it first and her expression seemed to change, a flash of anger showing, before it was gone. It happened so quickly, you almost thought you imagined it. But when you looked at her, all you saw in her eyes was longing. And then determination, as she extended her hand again. But the more she tried to reach you, the more your surroundings seemed to fade. You tried to reach out for her too, instinctively looking for something or someone to hold on to, but it made it worse. The ground beneath you gave way and suddenly you were falling, deep into the earth and away from her, trying to grasp something or try to break your fall, but there was nothing except blackness… You tried to remember that it was just a dream. That you were safe. You were in your house, in your room, in your own bed and nothing bad could ever reach you here. Those words were engraved in you from a young age. Your mother always whispered them to you, when you woke up screaming. She would always pull you close to her chest, let you listen to the sound of her heartbeat and tell you a story, her voice soothing and low. She would stay with you until the morning and smile, brushing away hair from your face. “You see, Y/N, here you will always be safe.” Your parents said that a lot. They were protective of you, perhaps more than a parent should. Others, less sheltered than you, were better equipped to face life and its hardships and as you grew older you tried to explain it to them, tried to tell them that you needed to experience freedom at least once in your life. The same kind you only knew in your dreams. “You’re simply too precious to us, sweetheart.” Your mother would say. “The world is a dangerous place.” Your father would warn. That’s why you were never allowed outside the city walls, never allowed to play in the woods with the other kids, never left unsupervised to roam the streets. There was always someone there to watch over you. And, though you hated to admit it, sometimes you could understand the reasoning behind it. Sometimes you would just… Forget yourself. Your parents would find you in strange places, would chase you down alleys you never remembered entering, they would call out your name and see you walk right past them as if you didn’t see them at all.

When asked where you were going, you could never tell. You weren’t going anywhere. You hadn’t heard them speak at all. But that wasn’t quite true. You had a longing for the forest. You always felt this pull towards it and no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, it always gnawed at you. Sometimes, you allowed this pull to guide you, but you never got far. Once, when you were 15, they had caught you just at the edge of the woods. Your mother had turned her back on you to speak to one of the merchants that sold his goods in the town square, and when she turned you were gone. And no matter how much she called out to you, no reply came. She never told you how she found you on the small winding path that led into the forest, or how she had thought to look for you there. She just told you to be careful. To never enter the woods. There were creatures that hid among the shadows, that creeped silently under the brush and waited, until they could get a stranger to stray from their path. There were demons too. Evil things made of shadow. They swallowed you into the darkness and made sure you never made you way back home. But worst of all were the witches that roamed. Your mother liked to say witches, yet she always spoke of one. The Scarlet witch. In the tales, she wore a crown made of bones and her eyes shown red in the darkness. Her fingers were dipped in black, for once, she had reached into hell itself, to pull back the soul of a man who had wronged her. She had kept his soul caged into the ruby at her neck, tormenting him with her powers, for she had deemed that hell was too good a place for someone like him. The endeavour had forever stained her, marked her for the world to see. Your mother had been telling stories of the Scarlet Witch since you were little. Always cautioning you to stay away from the woods, lest you fall victim to her too. And you had. You’d always heeded your mother’s advice, always strode to be a good daughter, to show your parents the respect they deserved. But you were no longer a little girl. You were 21 now, a woman, and though you cherished the safety of your home, you felt like you needed more. You yearned for adventures, for something more than the monotony of your sheltered life. You wanted to see the world. Yet, you knew, that your parents could never afford to send you off, letting you travel and explore. Now, when your breathing had calmed and your mind had cleared, you looked around your childhood home, listened to the quiet that surrounded you, looked at the familiar furniture, the cozy fireplace, the warm blankets that covered you and all you could think about was that longing. You wanted, no you needed more. You craved that freedom you felt in the forest.

You got up from your bed in a rush, taking your heavy coat and pulling it around your shoulders. In the excitement you forgot to change out of your night gown and into more comfortable clothes, but as you stood at the door, you didn’t want to risk going back, afraid the sounds may wake your parents, who slept peacefully in the next room. You put on comfortable shoes and had enough sense to grab a bottle of water, before you turned and left your childhood home behind. The small footpath that lead into the woods looked far less inviting in the dark. The blood moon had risen tonight, shining red and somehow eery in its beauty, but even under its light, you could hardly see. Your eyes couldn’t pierce the shadows, but you could hear the sounds of night animals all around you. You heard a branch snapping somewhere in the distance, the shuffling of small feet in the grass, you could hear the rapid beating of wings somewhere above you and the tiny screeches of bats. The night was alive and a part of you regretted that you couldn’t see all of its beauty. When you reached the edge of the forest you hesitated. It was even darker under the branches, you realized and the air seemed cooler too, making you shiver even in your warm coat. Perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea to come all alone. You could ask your parents tomorrow, come by the light of day. But they would never allow it. You knew well. You’ve asked many times. And they would never let you out of their sight either. Especially if they learned that you had managed to slip away in the night. This was your only chance for an adventure. You knew that. And besides… Nothing had ever actually happened to anyone in the woods. It was all tales, told by your mother to scare you. With renewed determination, you walked forward, keeping to the path you could still make out. It twisted and turned between the trees, a small line that seemed to keep the forest from crowding around you. Branches hung above you like bony hands, their fingers outstretched towards you and the leaves seemed to rustle, even though there was no wind. You’d walked there, heart hammering in your chest for what felt like hours, though you knew it couldn’t have been that long, when, as you tried to keep your steps steady and your breaths even, somewhere in the back of your mind, you heard a voice. A woman’s voice. A beautiful voice that wrapped around you in a calming blanket. “Let me in.” It whispered softly. Gently. Like a lullaby that only you could hear. Some part of you knew to be afraid of this voice. That you should take caution, for you have never heard it before.

“Hello?” You called out, turning this way and that. But there was no one to be seen. “Come to me.” Answered the voice, still gentle, still soft, yet something about it demanded to be answered, to be acknowledged, to be headed. “Come to me.” You knew now, as you stood in the darkness, that only you could hear this voice. That the words the woman had spoken were in your mind and nowhere else. But how could that be? Such a thing was not possible… Not human. The thought scared you more than you cared to admit and you felt cold sweat bead on your forehead. Your hands shook terribly all of a sudden and you started to turn, looking around you frantically. “Calm yourself little bird.” The voice spoke again, that same low whisper and it felt like the words alone slowed down the frantic beating of your heart. “Stay calm. No harm will come to you.” It said assertively. “Just let me in. I’ll keep you safe.” It said, and it felt like fog was wrapping around your thoughts, pushing them back, so the voice can take over. It was almost like you were being hypnotized and you tried to keep your nerves from getting the best of you. God, you tried. But you were scared and alone and you didn’t know where you were going. You didn’t know where this voice was coming from or what was lurking in the shadows of the woods. You just knew it didn’t feel like an adventure anymore, it didn’t feel like freedom. It felt like a snare, slowly closing around you. With a scream, you turned the way you came from and ran. You ran as fast as your legs could muster, your eyes fixed on the path in front of you. You didn’t dare look around you anymore, too scared of what you’ll see. You were terrified. Your mother was right! There were monsters in the woods and you had come alone! Such a stupid thing to do! “It will be all right, my sweet girl.” That same voice rang in your head. Sweet. Lovely. Full of affection even. “Come to me.” It beckoned, that fog starting to cloud your thoughts again. “Help!” You screamed as your mind worked itself into a frenzy. “Someone, please!” You shouted, the force of the scream almost bruising. Your throat felt raw. Your legs felt like putty, the fear coursing through your veins the only thing that kept you upright, kept you moving. Suddenly, the sound of a branch snapping somewhere behind you sent another spike of fear within you, and your head turned, following the sound. In your frenzy you could hardly see anything, only trees and the deep shadows that occupied the space between them. You didn’t bother to stop, too afraid that whatever lurked in the darkness would catch up to you. Your feet carried you forward, even as your head was turned, stumbling over the forest path.

That’s when you felt yourself collide with something, the mass in front of you solid and unmoving. You had only a moment to process that you had struck something, before you were falling, your body rushing towards the ground. You knew that the fall was inevitable and you outstretched your hands on instinct, trying to break it, but in the last possible second, you were stopped. You hung, suspended in the air, your eyes closed, your hair falling around you like a curtain as a pair of strong arms held you up. Whatever you struck had caught you. The person, if it was even a person, you thought in horror, straightened you, depositing you on your feet. “Are you all right?” A woman asked, brushing strands of hair from your face. “You almost fell.” She explained, lifting your chin to get a better look at you, her green eyes scanning for any injury. That’s when you truly saw her. Truly focused on her face and her features. It was her! It was the woman from your dreams. She had the same fiery hair, the same piercing green eyes, the high cheekbones, the same soft lips. “It’s you!” You exclaimed without thinking. “I know you.” The woman looked back at you with the same bewilderment in her eyes. Her brows shot up at the sight of you and her lips parted in surprise, her breath held for a long moment. But she seemed to recover much faster than you and her lips stretched into a smile. “I think I know you too.” She said. “From my dreams.” That smile almost had your knees buckle all over again, but the moment was short-lived as you remembered just where you were and that there was a monster after you.

“We have to leave!” You told the woman suddenly. “There is a monster.” You said, your voice shaking. “It spoke to me. It was after me!” You exclaimed in rush, grasping her by the shoulders. “What monster?” The woman asked, her eyes widening in shock. “I don’t know! I heard it! It was calling me! We have to leave!” You tried to tell her, turning to leave and taking her hand in yours. It was cold. You tried to lead her down the path you were running, back towards the town, but she didn’t move, pulling you backwards towards her, making you almost fall back in her arms. “Not that way.” She said quietly. “Come with me. I know a place where we can hide.” She whispered, as if sharing a secret only known to her. “But the town…” You tried to protest. “It’s too far away.” She said in a rush, already pulling you into the shadows of the trees and deeper into the forest. You ran side by side and you were grateful that you were no longer alone. Your mind raced the whole time, replaying what had happened. You kept coming back to that moment, to that voice that spoke. It had felt like a second consciousness, scratching at the back of your mind, clawing its way in. No, it wanted to be let in. “Let me in.” You heard it again, hissing, as if the thought of it had been a call it followed through the dark and all the way back to you. You screamed, your steps faltering, slowing to a halt as you cried out. “What’s wrong?” The woman beside you doubled back, grasping you by the shoulders and forcing you to look at her. “What happened?” She asked, concerned, her eyes darting left and right. “I heard it again. It’s close. It’s going to get us!” You whaled in panic, your eyes filling with unshed tears. “No, it won’t. Just breathe.” She guided you, pulling on your arm and forcing your body to start walking even when all you wanted to do was collapse on the ground and cry. “We’re almost there.” She promised, urging you forward. Without protest you obeyed, trying your hardest to stop thinking of the monster that followed you through the dark. At least you would not die alone, you mused, the thought surprisingly calming to your frayed nerves. And you had met the woman from your dreams. She was guiding you through the woods, just as you always dreamt, but this time you could hear her, feel her. This time you knew she was real. She continued to hold your hand, helping you climb over fallen trees and under low branches. She walked confidently, as if she’d walked this unmarked path before and didn’t look as scared as you were. She didn’t look scared at all. Did she not believe you? And where was she taking you? Surely, you would have been back in town by now. But you were so breathless from running and climbing, that you couldn’t spare the energy to ask all the questions that swirled in your head. “Almost there.” She assured you, her cold hands helping you up.

The climb up was steep here and your breaths came in rapid succession. You could feel a sheen of sweat underneath your nightgown and you felt so over-heated that you wanted to shrug off your coat. How were her hands so cold still? And why was she not afraid? What was she even doing in the woods in the middle of the night? Before you could ask, she pulled you up, over a large rock, and she helped you to your feet with surprising strength. How was she so strong, you wondered, that she could catch you when you fell, that she could drag you through the woods, when you had no more strength to run. But your question died down, when you looked up. You were faced with the same building from your dream. That large temple, carved into the cliff, with its stone giants standing guard around the entrance and you had to hold back a gasp. It looked out of place here, in the middle of the woods and you wondered how no one had ever seen it or spoken of it before. How was it possible that no one had found it? How come this woman knew exactly where to find it, and why was she leading you here? “What is this place?” You asked her, reluctant to make another step towards it. “Just a ruin.” She said simply, shrugging at the words, trying to seem disinterested. But you could tell there was more to it than that. She was hiding something. Perhaps you suspicion showed, because the woman forced herself to continue. “An alter, built for the old gods.” She said when she saw you weren’t moving. “For tonight, it’s our sanctuary from the monsters.” She said encouragingly, once again offering her outstretched hand. “How did you know it’s here? I’ve never heard of it.” You probed further. You reached to take the hand she was offering, only hesitating slightly when you remembered all those dreams, when she disappeared when your hands tried to touch. She seemed to notice your hesitation and she smiled, closing the distance and taking your hand firmly in hers. “This time I’m not going to fade away.” She said softly. “I’ll never disappear again.” The words sounded like a strange promise and they startled you, and you noticed with suspicion that she didn’t answer your question, but whatever reservations you had, quickly gave way to fear, as you heard the distant sound of footsteps somewhere in behind you. The woman heard them too, it seemed, because she held your hand more firmly and started to run towards the temple, the faint light of a torch already visible somewhere inside. “How do we know it won’t follow us inside?” You asked, your voice raising as you ran faster. “There is no door!” You noted in panic, neck craning back, so you could look in the darkness behind you, trying to pinpoint the source of the noises. “You’ll be safe with me.” The woman said. And it wasn’t just the familiarity of the words, but the tone of her voice that reminded you of the eery voice you had heard in your head. “Don’t worry. Just follow me.” She assured, half-pulling you behind her.

You had almost reached the entrance to the temple, the stone giants looming over you threateningly. Your feet were moving on muscle-memory alone at this stage, as you were being dragged by the stranger. She didn’t seem bothered by that, she kept pulling you forward with palpable urgency. You kept turning back, trying to see who or what was following behind you in the darkness, but you could see no one. Only shadows. You were right at the entrance, when your feet gave up and you stopped, your chest heaving and your mind reeling. You weren’t sure what to trust anymore. She looked innocent enough, had done nothing but help you in your fear and panic, yet there was something wrong you couldn’t quite put your finger to. Who was she? What was she doing in the woods in the middle of the night? How come you stumbled upon her? Was the timing really fortuitus, or was there more to it than that? How did she know of this place? Where did it come from? Why had you seen her in your dreams, but never in town, or at the market? How come her face hadn’t changed in all the years you’d dreamt of her? Why did she drag you up here, instead of taking you back to the safety of the town? There were too many questions. You felt overwhelmed. “We have to hurry!” She said, as she saw the hesitancy in your eyes. “Just come with me inside.” She commanded, more than asked, grabbing your hand by the wrist. “We don’t have much time.” She insisted, when you once again didn’t move, her grip hardening, and almost painful. “What’s after us?” You asked, your head turning once more to the darkness behind you. It was even harder to see now that you were closer to the light inside the temple. “Who else is inside?” “There’s no one inside. It’s been abandoned for centuries.” She insisted. “There’s a lit torch inside!” You stood your ground. “Someone must have brought it.” “The torch is mine. Only I come here. Only I know of this place. And I cannot keep you safe, unless you step inside.” The woman said, irritation clear in her voice. “Keep me safe from what?” You asked, matching her exasperation. But your resolve faltered when you heard the approaching steps, someone panting, getting closer… The woman heard them too, her eyes darting to the darkness behind you, widening in genuine fear. You had to choose. Trust the stranger, or take your chances with the monster. “Let me in!” You heard that voice again, gravely and insisting, scratching at your consciousness. Whatever it was, you knew you would not be able to face it. You’d rather take your chances with the stranger. You nodded at her, your foot lifting from the ground to make that final step inside, when you heard a scream behind you. Desperate. Piercing. And full of anguish. “Y/N!” It shouted through the dark and you instantly recognized your mother’s voice. But it was too late. The woman beside you used your momentum and pulled you through the threshold of the temple, her hands encasing you greedily once you were already inside. “There we go. Now you’ll always be safe with me.” The woman whispered next to your ear, holding you to her chest like a prized doll, while your mother’s frame came into the light. “Y/N!” Your mother shouted, running, trying to pass through the threshold of the temple. “Mother!” You screamed, trying to shrug away the stranger, but her grip was iron-clad.

Before your mother could pass, heavy axes crossed in front of the entrance with a deep, bone-rattling rumble, as if the cliff itself was going to collapse on top of you. “Let me in!” Your mother screamed, desperate. She’d been the one running after you all this time. She was looking for you! She was here to help you. To save you! So where had the voice come from? Your eyes turned on the strange woman and when you saw the expression on her face, you knew instantly that this was all her doing. She had lured you here. She’d used her knowledge of you to gain your trust, she’d used your fear to make you go with her, when you should have ran home. And when you had started to question what was going on, she had used your fear of a monster, to drag you further. There was no monster at all. There was only her. “You! It was you all along, wasn’t it!” You screamed, your fists beating against her chest with ferocity. “Y/N, honey, just come outside.” Your mother spoke behind you, her voice a mixture of fear and worry. “Just come out.” She coaxed. And you tried, turning your back on the woman, you ran towards the entrance, but as soon as you reached the threshold, it suddenly glowed deep red, the markings of ancient runes appearing under the dust and your body collided with an invisible barrier. Just like in your dreams, something held you back, but this time, instead of keeping you away from the woman, it separated you from your mother, who tried to bang her fists against the stone axes of the giants. “You won’t be going anywhere. Not when I finally have you.” The woman said with a note of finality. She raised her hands, red mist swirling around her fingers and curling around her like vines. Her clothes suddenly changed. Her simple wool dress and cloak quickly replaced by tight leather pants and a corset of deep red, hugging all her curves perfectly. A cloak of the same deep red hugged her shoulders and flew behind her and her simple walking shoes turned to black leather boots. “Have me? Why do you even want me?” You asked, trying to shake away the shock, the confusion, the utter impossibility of what you were seeing. You were tired and your legs hurt from the climb and all you wanted was to go home. “Who are you?!” You asked in exasperation. “She is the Scarlet witch.” Your mother answered behind you, her face sullen. The woman, no, the witch smiled, a grin so wide and sinister, it was the only confirmation you needed. Your mother was right. “Yes.” The woman confirmed, her shoulders straightening, her chin lifted high. “But you may call me Wanda.” She added, her eyes fixed on you. “I won’t be calling you anything.” You said in a moment of bravery. “I’m leaving!” You insisted. “Walk away from me if you can.” The witch said, her hand briefly gesturing towards the entrance. Her confidence sent a chill down your spine. “Please, you don’t have to do this.” Your mother pleaded. “You can have me.” She offered. “I’ll come with you willingly, just let my daughter go. Please!” “You know I won’t.” The witch addressed your mother, a gentle smile gracing her features. “Why not?” Your mother insisted. “We are of the same blood. Whatever you need from her, I have as well! Just take me. I will come to you willingly, I will do as you bid, I will remain for as long as you want. I will serve you. Just let my daughter go. Please. Have my life if you want it, but spare my daughter.”

The pleading look in your mother’s eyes almost broke your heart and the witch’s features seemed to mirror yours. It seemed she understood your mother’s anguish and you felt hope fill your heart that whatever was going on, whatever unspoken truths your mother and this woman shared, may be the key to your freedom. “It’s not blood I seek.” The witch said solemnly. “Y/N was made for me. My soulmate. My love. My one. No one can take her place.” Wanda explained, longing filling every word. “And nothing and no one will take from me again.” She added, grim determination settling across her features. “Leave us be.” She hissed in your mother’s direction. “You know I won’t.” Your mother responded, mirroring the witch’s response from earlier, steel laced in every word. You thought your mother would charge at the woman, with the way her eyes blazed, but she started to say something instead. A low muttering you couldn’t understand. Strange words filled the air in a language you didn’t understand and suddenly the world seemed to stand still. As if the world itself stopped to witness your mother’s strange words. She spoke them louder and louder, chanting them into the air, her voice rising until it was all you could hear, gathering momentum. For a moment it felt like the temple itself shook with her words, groaning, as if awakening from a deep sleep and your mother chanted louder, but you could tell that whatever she did cost her. She fought to keep her strange words from losing their rhythm, but you could tell she wouldn’t be able to keep it up much longer. As if awakened from a trance, you stepped forward, joining your mother’s chant, giving it strength, feeding whatever spell she was casting. You didn’t know what she was doing, if her strange chant would even work, you just knew it was your only chance of leaving this temple. Your voices grew stronger together and you felt that hope inside you expand, you took a tentative step towards the entrance, then another, chanting the strange words over and over again, the temple shaking all around you, as if in protest. In a moment of bravery, you made the final step. You closed your eyes and believed that it will work, that you will open your eyes and you will find yourself outside and in your mother’s embrace. Instead your body struck that invisible wall again, the barrier pushing you back and making you stumble as you tried not to fall.

Your voice faltered, frustration and fear replacing the hope you had felt. Your mother looked defeated too, her words dying down and turning into sobs. She looked so defeated. The witch did nothing. Just watched it all unfold. Her head was still held high, her expression impassive even after her victory. She looked thoughtful. Almost like she wasn’t fully present, her thoughts straying to something distant. “It’s been so long since I heard those words.” The Scarlet witch said, as if to ground herself. “But you have only a fraction of the spell.” She added cockily. “And even if it was whole, It took 3 covens, 36 witches to imprison me here. You think the two of you have the power for it?” She asked, anger rising within her. “They don’t make witches like they used to.” She growled, bitter. “Their power burned like the sun! And it took every last bit of it, for them to seal the temple.” She said through gritted teeth. “You’re walking on their bones.” She spat at your mother. “You don’t have what it takes. Just a spark of that magic. Pathetic.” As if disgusted with your mother’s weakness, the witch waved her hand and the entrance to the temple disappeared, leaving your mother on the other end. “No!” You screamed, running towards the doorway again and banging your fists against the stone, which didn’t seem to push you back any longer. It was cold and unmoving and solid enough for you to know that there was no way through. “Let me out of here!” You screamed at the witch, your cold eyes turning on her. “Never.” She responded simply. Surprisingly, there was no malice behind those words, no cruelty… Just longing and determination and something about it startled you. “Why? Why do you even want me? I’m no one. I’m not special! I don’t have magic…” You asked, trying to reason with the woman, trying to make sense of what you were seeing, of the strange new things you had learned. “Oh, but you are. You’re very special to me.” The Scarlet witch said with a sad smile. “You were everything to me once.” She continued, stepping closer, her eyes betraying the hurt she felt, when you instinctively stepped away. “But you were taken from me.” She sighed, stopping in her tracks, as if remembering that she was a stranger to you. “What do you mean? I don’t even know you!” You screamed at her.

You felt helpless and confused, you were tired and scared… You just wanted to go home. But what waited for you there? Your mother was a witch. She’d always spoke with such contempt about witches, yet she was one herself. And she had known this woman was after you, she had known she was here all this time, scheming and plotting to find a way to bring you here. She’d told you the Scarlet witch was evil. But she didn’t have glowing red eyes, or black fingers and she had no crown made of bone. She was just a woman… God, you didn’t know what to think! “Walk with me.” The witch spoke after a few long moments. She kept her tone even, her voice low, as if she was worried she might scare you away if she spoke too loudly. She turned her back on you then, walking away without turning back to see if you followed. Her steps echoed on the stone floor as she walked through passages and hallways lit by torches. The air smelled of candlewax and sweet-scented oils. She led you past doors and passages, further and farther into the temple, making you scale winding staircases, until you reached a huge, circular chamber. You could see candles scattered all around and torches mapped the edges of the room. The alter at its center was huge and covered in markings, ancient runes and symbols you couldn’t recognize. At first you thought that the domed roof had collapsed, but as you looked closer, you realised it was designed to be open, the circular opening smooth. The blood moon shone brightly through it, making you almost gasp at the beauty of it. The far wall on the right also seemed collapsed at first, as it was almost completely gone. It took you a moment to realize that it was not this way due to time or disrepair, but by design. The space where a wall was meant to be faced a vast structure below, a stone circle that looked exactly as the alter, only bigger. But the most impressive thing by far, was the giant stone statue of a woman that towered as tall as the temple walls. The sight of it left you breathless and you couldn’t help but speak, despite yourself. “What is this place?” You asked under your breath. The woman turned to you then, her eyes taking in your expression.

“I didn’t lie to you when you asked me the first time around. It’s an old ruin, where centuries ago, people built a temple to an old god. Or, should I say a goddess.” She said, gesturing to the stone statue. “The goddess of chaos.” She explained with a glint in her eyes. “They worshipped her, crated this temple for her and waited for her arrival. Her coming was foretold. She is not born, but forged. The laws of magic would bend to her will. To her there would be no laws at all. She would break them all.” She explained, her voice raw and full of barely contained emotions. “Every coven hoped that one of their own would be the goddess of chaos. Every powerful girl was raised on that hope.” She said thoughtfully. “And witches were powerful back then. Their magic was strong, passed down by the generations, practiced and honed. It was an age of miracles. Those women could do extraordinary things.” She said with admiration. “What they didn’t expect was that a simple girl, with no family or coven, no training and no tutors would be the one.” The woman smiled sadly. “My mother and father died before my eyes.” She continued with a slight tremble in her voice. “I was a child. My brother and I hid under the bad and watched as they were murdered. We watched their blood seep into the floorboards, the pool growing so big, we had to crawl through it to get out. It was cold by then, thick and slippery. We were covered in it.” She spoke, her eyes filling with tears. She looked so broken-hearted, so sad, and so alone and something about that made your heart ache for her. “We were taken as servants by a lord, to show his kindness to the people. But he was a cruel man. He would beat us for every small mistake, would leave us hungry… Sometimes for days. He was especially cruel to Pietro. He would lash him until he passed out from the pain. He’d make me watch as he beat him and told me that if I looked away, he’d hurt him worse.” The memory seemed to take hold of the woman in front of you and a single tear slipped free from her eye.

“One day, after he’d returned from the capitol, he was seething. We tried to hide from him, we’d learned to avoid him in his foul moods, but he sought us out. Made sure we were brought to him. He already had his whip in his hands. He whipped Pietro again and again, telling him to endure it all, or he would turn his whip on me. When even the lasing didn’t make him happy, he threw it on the floor, grabbed Pietro by the neck and started squeezing. I tried to pry him away and Pietro fought with all his might, but he wouldn’t let go. He squeezed and squeezed, until I could see my brother’s face turn red, then purple. No matter how much a screamed for help, or how I tried to fight him off, he wouldn’t let go. I watched as the light from my brother’s eyes started to fade and something inside me broke. I screamed and I let loose whatever I was holding back inside me. I let it flood out of me and tear through our tormentor, his castle, his guards, his family and servants… When I could finally stop, only I and Pietro’s unconscious body remained.” She said, wiping away her teras. “We were lucky that a woman, Evanora Harkness was staying in town. When she saw what I did, she took us away. Brought us to this place. My brother had no gift for magic, so he lived in the nearby town, came to see me often… Eventually found a girl to settle down with, had children of his own. I remained at the temple. They helped me develop my power, helped me learn to control it. But they were fearful of me too. They couldn’t explain how I’d done what I did. And I couldn’t tell them, because I didn’t know. Their magic had rules and constraints, it was complicated in all its power. My magic was different. Needed no incantation, no runes, no herbs or special objects. It simply was.” She shrugged. “It was Agatha Harkness, Evanora’s daughter, that first realized who I was. Who I was meant to be.” She continued her story. “I could tell she was jealous, she was powerful and ambitious and she wanted to make the prophecy come true. She wanted that power all to herself. But she also admired that power, craved it. Her mother and the rest of the coven feared it. They were raised on the prophecy of the Scarlet witch, but when they saw what I could do, they grew fearful.” She said, shaking her head. “I should have realized it sooner. I should have seen the way they looked at me, when I kept breaking their precious rules of magic and grew more powerful… But I was in love.” She said with a bitter smile. “You have her name.” The woman said, turning to you for the first time. Her small, tentative smile was so beautiful, even in its sadness and you couldn’t help but feel for her.

“She was sweet, and beautiful and so kind. She was the only one willing to be my friend. The only one who didn’t resent me for my power, or judge me for coming from a family without magic. The only one who didn’t try to study me, or control me… I couldn’t help but fall in love. Then I couldn’t even begin to tell her of that love.” She spoke, looking in your eyes, but you could see she was picturing someone else in your place. Her tail was heartbreaking and it made your chest ache for her. You didn’t know why it hurt so badly to listen to her story, or why it affected you, but you couldn’t help but feel for her, grieve with her. “The discovery that I could wield chaos magic, that I was meant to take the mantle of the Scarlet witch was not accepted easily. Especially by the older generations. They clung to their rules, blanketed their prejudice in them. They feared me. I would not choose a coven, I could not be controlled, and I would not do as I was bid. That was a dangerous thing. But the younger generations longed for the promise of the prophecy. Agatha advocated for my ascendency more than anyone else. She gathered loyal followers to her side. The covens were divided. But I was also more powerful than any of them. Chaos magic had no match, it could not be stopped… This alter was my rightful throne. It was made for me and they had no choice but to give it to me.” She said, lifting her chin. “When I took my place, things seemed to settle. People were uneasy, the covens still clustered in groups and whispered, but they could not challenge me. Not without cause. For a while I ruled over the covens. It was a golden age for magic. And the prophecy promised more. I was meant to rule the world. Witches would no longer be hunted, would no longer fear for their lives and their families… I was meant to bring about a new age. But I didn’t care for such things. I didn’t want to rule the world. I only wanted you. You were the light of my day, the reason I smiled. You were my whole heart.” She said, her hand reaching out to touch your face, but the panic in your eyes at the gesture stopped her in her tracks and her eyes hardened once more, her hand dropping to her sides.

“You gave me my first kiss under the light of the full moon.” She continued her story. “You nestled at my side, as we watched the stars together. You smiled, as I made the flames in the torches dance for us and you held my hand when the world was too much to bear.” She said gently. “We made love right here, on my throne.” She said seductively, gesturing to the stone alter. “You tasted so sweet, my love. Made the most delectable sounds when I stretched you on my fingers.” She added, watching the way you blushed at her words. A reaction she seemed to enjoy greatly. “You were mine and I was yours. And your love elevated me higher. You calmed the storms inside me, tempered me… You were the reason for every mercy. You were the reason for my happiness.” “We were truly happy for a while. I made you my bride under the light of a blood moon, just like this one. I made you my queen.” She said with pride. “But I wanted more. I wanted us to have a family. Children of our own. And in my happiness, I made it true. You became pregnant. We were going to have twins. But the elders in the covens could not accept it. Making life out of nothing was simply not possible. An abomination in their eyes. And their fear of what else I might create drove them to plot my undoing.” She said bitterly. “They knew they could not kill me, that they would be opposed, so they crated a spell to entomb me here, in this temple. They drugged us, on the celebration of the winter solstice of all times. You, Agatha and all those loyal to us were taken away from me. They dragged the unconscious bodies from the great hall and into the cold air outside. Your belly was so swollen by then. You were almost due to give birth… I watched them slit your throat like a sacrifice and then used it to seal the temple, push it between worlds, so no one would ever be able to find it, or enter it.” She said as fresh tears spilled from her eyes. ”It took everything they had. I watched as the magic drained from them, leaving them nothing but empty shells… But they were willing to sacrifice it all just to keep me in here.” She snarled. “The entire time they thought I was fighting them. I was only fighting to keep you and the twins alive.” She said in a sob. “I watched the light drain from your eyes! I felt our boys struggle within you, their little souls crying. I could hear them calling out to me, begging me to save them. I felt your life essence fade and your soul slip from this world too and in desperation I did the only thing I could. I kept it from passing through. I made sure you would be born again. That you will come back to me.” She said as her eyes examined your face, trying to decern your thoughts. “And you did. I waited centuries in here. I was alone and grieving and quite mad I’m afraid. I roamed the halls, read every book, studied every theory, trying to break free from this prison. That’s how I discovered that on the nights, when the vail between worlds is thinner, I can push past their spell and into the world. The temple would once again appear, just where it was.” She said, like she was sharing a secret. “Agatha found out too. She kept coming to see me. She tried to free me from this place. When the covens found out, they punished her for it. Tried to burn her. Turns out she had a stronger will to live. She took their magic. But even with the combined power of her coven, she could not break the spell, only weaken it. But it’s been enough. I found my way out tonight and into your world. I found my way back to you, my love.” She said finally, stepping so close to you, you were almost touching.

It took you a long moment to gather your thoughts after her story. It was all too much. Too impossible. As much as you tried, you couldn’t wrap your head around it. “How…” You finally spoke, voice hoarse. “How do you know it’s me?” You asked. “I recognize your soul, my love. We are bound. You have a piece of my life essence within you. There could be no mistake.” “Is that why I’ve been seeing you in my dreams?” You asked tentatively. “Yes. I found you in the world of dreams. I’ve been trying to lead you to me all this time. But there was something standing in the way. There was always a barrier between us. I’m guessing your clever mother put a spell on you.” She said, tilting her head slightly. “But it doesn’t matter. You are here now. And we are finally together. Nothing will take you from me again.” The witch promised. The words were spoken without hesitation, without a shadow of a doubt and something about them sent a jolt of fear through you. Did this mean you could not leave? That you could never see your family again? Your few friends… Did she mean to keep you here forever? “Come.” The witch said, gesturing for you to follow her. “You must be tired.” “Where are we going?” You asked, as you followed behind her. “To our chambers of course.” She explained, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Ours?” The word struck you like a slap and you paused in the middle of the hallway. “Yes, my love. Ours. I’ve already prepared a bath for you.” She said, trying to remain unbothered by your reluctance. “A bath?” You looked at her stubbornly. “I don’t want a bath. I want to know what happened to my mother. I want to go home!” You allowed your voice to rise. As much as her story had affected you, you didn’t want to stay here with her. You didn’t know her. You didn’t want to live in isolation. “You are home.” The witch said suddenly, anger flashing across her features. “And your mother is fine. She’s already safely in town. Now come. I’ll explain everything once you are settled in our chambers.”

Her words were so infuriating, you could scream. She acted as if all of this was normal, as if because she told you a story you were meant to believe her, to trust her, to do as she asked… She acted as if you were this woman she once loved, but you had no memory of it. You knew nothing of the life she told you about. You didn’t love her, you didn’t even know her! “Perhaps that’s the problem.” The woman’s eyes slitted, her head tilting dangerously once more. “Perhaps if I help you remember, you will stop fighting all this.” She suggested. That’s when you remembered the voice you had heard in the back of your mind when you were in the woods, remembered the strange words she had used… That she could hear the voices of her children as they died… Could she read minds? Is that what she was doing right now? Had she been doing it all along? “Clever girl.” The witch spoke again, her mouth forming a smile that looked far from genuine. “Stay out of my head!” You shouted at her, but she was already stepping closer to you. It made you panic. You didn’t know what she would do, if she would hurt you and in your fear you did the only thing you could. You turned back and ran. “Where will you go, my love? There is no way out!” The witch shouted after you, her slow measured steps on the stone floor sending another jolt of fear through you. You ran till you reached the large chamber she had led you to, the candles there still burning, the torches framing the walls. There was no way out of this room, there was nowhere to hide, there was only the alter and the large statue that loomed over you threateningly. The resemblance with the woman after you was eery. Her story of prophecy daunting. Was all of this fate? Was it somehow pre-ordained? A story already written and told. A story where you were just a pawn, expected to play its part…

You refused to believe that. But what could you do? Face her? Fight her? With what? You didn’t know, but you had to try. So you made your way to the far end of the left wall and pressed yourself against it, using the statue and the shadows as covers, your breath ragged, your mind racing. The witch didn’t take long to walk into the light, her face unreadable as she scanned the room for your presence. “Come out, and we will do this the easy way.” The woman said threateningly. “Play this game, and we’ll have to do it the hard way. But one way or another, my love, I always win.” You said nothing. You weren’t foolish enough to respond to her and give away your hiding spot. You quieted down your thoughts, forcing yourself to remain calm as you watched her walk further into the room. “You’re only making this harder on yourself.” She called out, her eyes lazily moving over the few places in the room you could hide. “But if you want to play hide and seek… I guess I’ll just have to come find you, huh?” She moved passed the alter, briefly glancing behind it to check her suspicion that there was nothing there but dust, before moving to the right and towards the open space in the wall. There seemed to a niche near it, that you could only spot from your angle, but she must have known it was there. She probably knew every stone that made up this temple. When she reached the niche and confirmed that you were not there, she slowly started to move around the room, her walk casual, almost careless and as she neared you, you knew you wouldn’t be hidden from view for much longer. You had to make a choice. Stay and wait to be discovered, or try to make a run for it.

With a deep breath you darted from your spot and ran for the only doorway that led in and out of the room. You didn’t dare look back, didn’t think whether she would chase you, or simply let you wander aimlessly in the temple, until you finally gave up, you just had one goal. Make it through that door. But before you could even reach it, the door slammed shut and you were suspended in the air, hanging there mid-step, unable to move. “Caught you!” You said playfully, using her magic to float your body to the alter and lay you down on it. She took her time making her way to you, until she was towering above you. Her eyes burned through you as she took you in, struggling against her magic. It was almost adorable to her, that you thought it would do you any good. Before you could say a word, you saw her eyes turn red and the red tendrils of her magic swirled and grew around her. A crown appeared on her head, just as your mother had once described her and she looked equally regal and demonic in this state. “Now, my love… Let’s begin.”

#writing #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #scarlet witch

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ba9go · 6 months ago

Text

not your cookie-cutter love story

bakugou katsuki x reader

bakugou katsuki overhears you whining about your cookie craving. he bakes you cookies. fluff and confessions!! (sfw)

part 3/3 of the cookie craving collection (completed)

more cookies for you? part 1 (sfw) 🍪 part 2 (sfw)

you can't remember the last time you ate a cookie, but you were craving cookies, and you just had to make sure everybody in the common room knew that you were craving cookies too.

"coooooooooookieeeee," you groaned for what must've been the umpteenth time, sinking further into the sofa. you sat between kirishima and mina, and they both winced.

"like... the chocolate chip kind?" kirishima asks, scratching the side of his head. "why don't you ask sato? i'm sure he—"

"already did," mina sighs, shaking her head. "didn't quite hit the spot, did it, baby?"

you shook your head with a pout. you flop your head onto mina's shoulder, and she pats your head.

kirishima blinks, perplexed, but he nods anyway. he hums, then gets into The Thinker pose, hand under his chin and brows furrowed. he thinks, ponders, then—

"have you tried bakugou?"

mina's head turns to look at you so fast you're worried she snapped her damn neck off, but the twinkling stars in her eyes and the teasing lilt in her voice has you sighing (and not in worry).

"oh. em. GEE!!! bakugou??? that's GENIUS, kiri, you're a GENIUS!!! you gotta do it, y/n, c'mon, this is your chance to—"

you slap a hand over mina's mouth. you smile at sweet, innocent kirishima, who looks both startled and petrified by you.

"my chance to satisfy my cookie craving! mina's right, you're a genius, kiri! thank you!" you continue smiling, and kirishima still looks petrified. mina's talking against your hand, saying something, actually maybe she's screaming a little?

kirishima laughs nervously and makes a mental note to not mess with you when you're craving cookies.

and that's how you ended up in front of bakugou's door later that evening.

"b- bakugou?" you call nervously.

knock knock.

it was 7:42pm, and you were worried. everyone knew that bakugou went to bed early, and you'd be lucky if bakugou didn't blast your face off on sight. honestly, getting bakugou to open the door is one thing, but how the fuck is he going to take your stupid cookie request—

the door swings open so fast, you physically startle, and you're greeted by bakugou himself.

bakugou's wearing his aji fry tee and a pair of long, fuzzy sweatpants. he looks so... domestic. his toothbrush sticks out from between his usual downturned lips, and you can't help but notice the small bit of frothy toothpaste at the corner of his mouth.

he looks adorable.

"i- it's me," you announced dumbly, with a nervous wave.

bakugou glares at you, but steps backwards, holding the door open with his foot. he beckons you into his room with a sharp jerk of his head, and you think you must be dreaming.

you follow bakugou into his room meekly and close the door behind you gently. you stand by the foot of his bed as he walks into his bathroom to finish brushing his teeth.

"what." he asks flatly after he walks out the bathroom. bakugou walks past you to sit on his bed, back leaning against the headboard.

"well, uh, the thing is..." you cringed. this was it. you were certain that these were going to be your final words before bakugou blasts you straight to hell. "i've kind of been craving—"

"cookies."

"huh?" you turn to bakugou gaping like a god damn fish. he raises a brow at you questioningly. "how did you—"

"shitty hair told me," bakugou interrupts you. he frowns and sighs, running a hair through spiky but soft blond hair. you kind of want to pet it. "multiple times. the whole week."

you squeak(?) in embarrassment. oh god. kirishima. knowing the redhead, he couldn't have possibly had any ill intentions... but still... you felt your cheeks flush with heat.

"wh- what... exactly did kirishima say?" you kind of regretted asking that. maybe you'd be better off not knowing.

"that you thought sato's cookies sucked ass," bakugou folds his hands behind his head, and closes his eyes.

"that is not true, and that is not what i said! sato's the best baker i know!"

"that so?" bakugou opens a single eye to look at you. you're simultaneously terrified and absolutely enthralled by that challenging glint in his eyes. "explain why you're here then. you want a room tour or some shit?"

bakugou breaks into a shit-eating grin as the flush on your cheeks deepens. you realise you're still standing awkwardly by the foot of his bed. you realise you're here, in bakugou's room, making a big fool out of yourself, trying to swallow both your embarrassment and your overwhelming feelings for him. god, this was so embarrassing.

you can't do this. you look away and down at the floor, face still burning. you squeeze your eyes shut tightly, and try to regather your thoughts. this was fine. you're going to apologise, leave, and things will go back to normal tomorrow. yup, this was totally fine—

you feel a sharp flick against your forehead. you flinch, and you open your eyes to see that bakugou has moved himself away from his headboard, and is now sitting in front of you, at the foot of his bed. he doesn't look so smug now.

"oi." bakugou's hand falls, and you feel his fingers brush lightly against your knuckles. you look down, but his hands are already resting in his lap. you realise how tightly your hands are clenched by your sides, and try to relax.

"don't look so stressed," bakugou says gruffly, looking pointedly away from you. he's frowning yet again, but you don't sense any irritation from him. "was just fuckin' around."

oh. you blink. was bakugou trying to apologise?

"i- i know," you voice comes out as a whisper. "i'm sorry. i didn't mean to cause you any trouble—"

bakugou snorts. "yer makin' it sound like cookies are difficult to bake," he looks back at you with a roll in his eyes. you realise he's trying to lighten the mood for the both of you, in his own way. it's working. you feel a tiny smile tugging at your lips. and maybe you're imagining things, but you swear that the furrow between bakugou's brows relaxes slightly.

"well, they're not easy either," you retort. you decide you're tired of standing, and sit next to bakugou on his bed. you guess bakugou's okay with it, considering that he doesn't shove you off the bed with an elbow to your ribs. you try to chase your nerves away.

"anybody with eyes and hands can make cookies."

"sure, but what about good cookies? like, actually good cookies. not just your basic chocolate chip."

bakugou's frown comes back in full force.

"ya tryna say i got shit taste buds or sumn'?"

"no," you scoff. "i'm saying that you've probably never had a good cookie. probably don't know how to make one either."

bakugou's eyes narrow at you, and you grin back at him.

"m'gonna make you eat your words," bakugou declares, crossing his arms over his chest. he glares at you, but it's missing his usual heat.

"really?!" you look at bakugou with stars in your eyes, and the way he flinches is kind of funny. "you're really gonna make cookies for me??" you sound so hopeful. maybe a little too hopeful, you realise.

but bakugou doesn't waver. he doesn't tear his eyes from your starry, lovestruck gaze. he just nods.

"yeah."

you practically skipped your way back to your dorm room. you were excited, and you rolled around in your bed restlessly and finally drifted asleep at god knows what hour.

you woke up the next morning to new messages.

(3) new messages

bakugou💣: You up? delivered 9:24am

bakugou💣: Nvm delivered 10:09am

bakugou💣: Just come to my room later delivered 10:12am

you had never gotten ready quicker your whole life.

you: SORRYYY i slept in a little im omw rn!!!

bakugou💣 reacted 👍 to your message.

bakugou didn't seem to be in his room when you knocked.

"bakugou?" you called again. you knocked a few more times, before finally pulling away from where your ear was against the door.

you fished your phone out of your pocket.

you: im outside!!! delivered 10:32am

you: wru? delivered 10:34am

you're about to send another message when you hear the rustling of plastic and footsteps along the corridor.

you turn to see bakugou walking towards you with hands full of groceries bags. you run walk quickly towards him, mentally noting how you probably looked like a dog chasing a stick.

you grip and tug at a few of the bags, offering to help hold them, but bakugou simply grunts and tugs them away from your grasp. you give up eventually.

"bakugou, we're making cookies right? you bought so much! was it expensive? let me pay you b—"

"kitchen." bakugou interrupts. a warm hand wraps around your wrist firmly. you flush, and look down to see that he's somehow managed to transfer all of the grocery bags to one hand. he ignores your protests as he drags you down the corridor, towards the kitchen.

bakugou only drops your wrist when he starts to unpack the groceries on the countertop.

"bakugou," you say almost pleadingly. "where's the receipt?"

"ate it."

"i know you didn't eat it."

"but i did?" bakugou's gaze flickers up and away from the groceries as he glances at you with his best pokerface, even arching a brow at you. you can't help the smile on your face. gosh, he was so stubborn.

"i'll just pay you 20 bucks then."

"nah."

"25."

"no."

"30."

"i'll pay you 30 to shut the fuck up."

"fine!" you let out a soft hmph, and move to sit by the kitchen island, crossing your arms. you keep them crossed even after bakugou finishes unpacking the groceries, and walks over to stand in front of you.

he pokes your bicep once. then twice. you don't budge.

without warning, bakugou's hands fall to your waist. you scream in fear before his fingers even move, and you try to squirm away, but it's too late—

"stop, stop!!" you cry, tears springing to your eyes. each tickle of his fingertips grazing your skin draws another bout of giggles from between your lips. you watch his evil grin spread. "i can't— please, i surrender!!"

bakugou looks so smug when he finally releases you.

"what'd you do that for?" you complained, rubbing your sides.

"you were too quiet."

"you told me to shut up!"

"so?"

"you piece of—"

"heeeyyyyyy!!!"

"shhh!!!! don't ruin the moment, idiot!!!"

you both whip around to see mina slapping kaminari in the arm. kirishima trails closely behind them, looking sheepish. you wince.

"morning, y/n, bakubro!" bless kirishima and his pure heart for trying to save the situation.

"heyyyy, lovebirds!" you wonder if kaminari has a death wish.

"FUCK OFF, ALL OF YOU!!!!!!"

you have to physically hold bakugou back from grabbing a metal pan to thwack kaminari in the head.

"look, we didn't mean to interrupt you guys, i swear!" kirishima raises both his hands up defensively. "we just want to toast up the pizza in the fridge for breakfast, alright? we'll scram afterwards!!"

bakugou refuses to let any of them step foot into the kitchen, not when he's already laid out all the bakingware and the ingredients nice and proper. you play peacemaker, and offer to toast the pizza for them. bakugou agrees.

it works. it's peaceful for a while. no death threats or yelling. just bakugou glaring at the ticking toaster oven like he's trying to explode it with just his eyes.

but all hell breaks loose when kaminari speaks up again.

"what is that?" kaminari squints and points at the red tub sitting on the countertop. he reads the label. "gochujang? isn't that spicy?"

and bakugou turns around, red-faced with anger. you rack your brain for a way to save kaminari's life. how, how, how. but kaminari continues,

"bakugou, are you sure you know how to make cookies?"

"you fucking dunceface, i'm going to fucking—"

you grab bakugou's arm with one hand and pull him towards you. he looks at you with angry eyes that widen in shock when your other arm snakes behind his neck.

"what the hell do you think you're—"

you yank him down and press your lips firmly against his.

bakugou's lips are soft. they feel slightly chapped against yours, and you resist the urge to lick them wet with your tongue. you close your eyes, and imagine how good it must feel to make out with bakugou, to have his tongue in your mouth—

your lips part slightly, and you can't help the tiny moan that escapes. your eyes fly open immediately.

bakugou is completely still, just looking at you with eyes blown wide.

you hear mina gasp, a loud slapping noise, and kirishima's hushed, scolding voice. you hear rustling, maybe some muffled protests, and a whispered "sorry!" before it's finally quiet.

you pull back slightly, but bakugou pulls you back in the moment your lips leave his. he finally wraps a strong arm around your waist and holds you flushed against him.

he doesn't kiss you. just holds you and stares at you with wide eyes.

"bakugou," you murmur softly. "i like you. i've liked you for a while now."

bakugou is blushing, you realise, watching his eyes flutter close. he ducks his head towards your shoulder and buries his face in the crook of your neck.

"yeah?" his breath is hot against your neck when he whispers against your skin. "i think i like you too."

BONUS:

kaminari has a death wish.

you can't blame him! he's just curious. he didn't want to interrupt anything, he just wanted a peek, you know? it was so rare to bakugou calm, much less domestic.

earlier in the morning, kaminari and kirishima visited the little grocery store to pick up some protein bars (well, only kirishima got protein bars. kaminari got chocolate.)

kaminari was surprised to see the buy-2-get-1-free promotion, but even more surprised to see bakugou with not one, but two baskets. full of... flour, sugar and eggs?

"bakubro!" kirishima waves excitedly. bakugou just nods in acknowledgement. "what're you doing—"

kaminari watches kirishima's eyes flicker to bakugou's baskets. right??? isn't that so odd??? kaminari expects kirishima to be as confused as he feels right now.

but kirishima only smiles, a little too knowingly. kaminari knows he's a bit of an idiot, but he doesn't enjoy feeling like an idiot. right now, he feels like an idiot who's been left out of a huge secret.

"that's really manly of you," kirishima smiles, nodding approvingly. "have fun, bro!"

bakugou nods at kirishima's words.

kaminari is seriously confused. he's even more confused after the stunt you pulled in the kitchen. right in front of his virgin eyes? how could you!

it's okay. a little snooping won't hurt, right?

half an hour after kirishima's dragged him into his room, kaminari sneaks out of him room and back to the kitchen.

he sees a huge ball of dough on the countertop. bakugou's pinching off pieces and rolling them into balls between his palms, and you're standing really close to him, kaminari notices.

you wrap an arm around bakugou's bicep, and kaminari thinks you're doomed. you're going to get your face blown off, he thinks.

but bakugou leans down towards you and presses a kiss to your cheek. you turn to look up at him. you're beaming, and kaminari has never seen bakugou look so... soft.

"you're really good at this, bakugou."

"call me katsuki." kaminari's jaw slackens. he is starting to regret his decision to snoop.

"really?" you ask excitedly. bakugou nods.

"katsuki!"

"i told you to stay out of it, man."

he turns around to see kirishima standing behind him with his arms crossed. kirishima sighs, and kaminari feels jealous, disgusted, and guilty all at once.

I FINALLY RECOVERED!!! this took so long for me to write, i had a weird mental block on top of being sick, and tumblr deleted one of my drafts right after i got hit by inspiration!!! im so sorry this took forever, but thank you guys for being so kind and patient 🥹🥹 you guys are the best. again, thank you for reading!!!!

...nsfw part 4 where they get messy in the kitchen? :D

taglist (thank you for your support!!): @anicaaa67 @maddietries @nemisimp @an-na-bella @valeriyaaak @buggie07 @v3n7s @deimosjay @iguanahykhv @zaiban2989 @girls-overflower @deimosjay @notmeduhh

#bakugou's aji fry tee #am i the only one who wants that aji fry tee #i fucking love that shirt #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou imagine #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou fluff #bnha bakugou katsuki #bnha imagines #bnha x reader #bnha #mha

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askew-d · 1 year ago

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KAGEHINA FICS MASTERLIST

• ⭐️🎖️ jellyfish, by mysterytwin — hinata makes a list of things to do before graduation; and that includes confessing his feelings to kageyama. a wonderful story, so heartwarming. my utmost favorite.

• ⭐️ in transit, by mysecretfanmoments — while riding the bus together, hinata begins to discover about his feelings for kageyama. absolutely lovely.

• dare, by majesticartax — kagehina’s chosen to play a dare in which they end up locked in a room, and, of course, revelations ensue. this one made me scream lots. rated m!

• you know all the strings (and know just how to tug them), by artemisia_hq — 5 + 1 story about kageyama being whipped and can’t say no and hinata saying yes. domestic fluff.

• like always, by artemisia_hq — during their last walk home together, hinata becomes aware of his feelings and decides to do something about it. short story, yet so cute!

• ⭐️ i wanna know you, and i wanna love you, by momochai — kagehina go on a day together, or better yet, a date; even though they’re not quite aware of it. i was dying throughout all of this, outstanding!

• you’re grabbing my hands like they’re handbars, by mountains_6 — basically tsukishima being a third wheel when the three of them travel to rio, based on the extra bit of the manga, lol. short and endearing.

• 🎖️ a hundred or so hellos, by iwillstillopenthewindow — kageyama reincarnates over and over and hinata continues dying over and over. angst. a lot of angst. but still goddamn beautiful.

• let me in on the open secret too, by switmikan74 — kageyama doesn’t know that he’s dating hinata, until he gets hints from a shoujo manga. that’s so fitting, definitely worth the read!

• highway verse, series by emleewrites — a pixel cars au that i didn’t think it’d catch me until i read it and had dreams about this fantastic universe.

• ⭐️🎖️ if it wasn’t for you, by halfbloom (diphylleias) — in brazil, hinata learns more about relationships and what it means to have a bond with kageyama. got my heart effortlessly. such a delight.

• ⭐️ one more thing, by marks — it’s tsukishima and yamaguchi’s wedding, and kageyama and hinata decide to go together. can i please have more of this? sweet stories like this makes my heart melt, i swear.

• 🎖️⭐️ i can do better, by buu — kagehina compete over everything under the sun, and that includes kissing. and some more. in fact, every kagehina fic by this author hits. and this one… made me feel stuff. rated m!

• ⭐️ no angels could beckon me back, by lilacnoctua — heated arguments lead kagehina to heated moments with each other. a hot story with great development. loved every part of it.

• from this day forward, by emleewrites — kageyama tries to propose; it goes as badly as you can expect. so funny, seriously! i could easily recommend every fic by this author too, as well as esselle’s, but i’m gonna list my favorites anyway, so hang on!

• soft serve, by tothemoon — kagehina drives an ice cream truck to help karasuno; as one might expect, feelings are involved in between. summer fic, brings a ton of good emotions!

• 🎖️ famous v-league players make fools of themselves on twitter dot com, by crone_zone — the appearance of one hinata shouyou through the eyes of twitter users. pure comedy and it’s a whole show. gorgeous!

• room to grow, by mysecretfanmoments — things are different in their third year and hinata’s still learning how to deal with it. ah, young love! the best kind.

• raining verse, by emleewrites — kageyama’s cursed to be a kitten, hinata’s the one who finds him. i love a magic realism au, so imagine my happiness while reading this.

• future’s kiss, by mervousmer — kageyama somehow travels to the future for a moment, and hinata’s there, all grown-up. come on, time travels also have my heart! this one’s cute as hell.

• ⭐️ dethroned, by setkia — kageyama counts his victories and losses against hinata in his mind. what a gem! short and fabulously creative.

• saffron and cayenne pepper, by dontsaycrazy — neighbours kagehina: one only knows how to set the kitchen on fire and the other one’s actually a chef, what could work between them? everything, that’s the answer. a hit!

• on quarantining together…, series by winterey — social media kagehina making lives while on quarantine. fun and addictive!

• conflict of interest, by zukushou — more of social media kagehina, this time with journalists thinking they’re rivals when they’re actually… yknow *gay for each other*. just everything i’d ever want for them.

• ⭐️ with suds in your eyes (and a smile on your lips), by hqkrys — established relationship kagehina take a messy shower together. overall just endless fluff, which melts my heart!

• a bento for dr. kageyama, by zukushou — hinata leaves food for his husband and causes gossip at the hospital said husband works in. hahaha, this is definitely terrific.

• the best laid hands, by mysecretfanmoments — kageyama doesn’t even know how to deal with his own romantic life, so it’s best if other people don’t ask for advice. but what if it’s an advice for hinata? you never know :)

• ⭐️ better than firewhiskey, by mysterytwin — hogwarts au with kagehina! someone should definitely find this author by the way and give them a big hug. i want to. they rock.

• chase the light, my love, by thebeaming sun — kageyama planning to propose and earning support of his teammates. established relationship kind of thing that makes me smile.

• hinata and kageyama terrorise a simple interviewer, satorou masashi, series by call_me_j — story told in the form of an interview, including post time-skip kagehina of course. remarkable!

• optical, by kvhottie — kageyama wears glasses; everyone freaks out. do i need to explain more? hella entertaining.

• never doubt i love, by gentle_autumn_rain — jealous hinata thinks kageyama got a boyfriend. he didn’t. love these small misunderstandings that lead to a confession! so good.

• of gentlemen and scoundrels, by mysecretfanmoments — historical au with kageyama as a gentlemen in london and hinata who’s… well, not very much like him. the writing and the sexual tension in this is spectacular!

• ⭐️ save the last dance for me, my prince, by zukushou — prince kageyama and bodyguard hinata, as this fandom deserved. and such a well-developed at that. charming!

• patience, by mistonthelake — surprisingly enough, hinata discovers about kageyama’s crush on him earlier than the man himself. a lesson in being patient.

• wrestle for victory, by emleewrites — after their fateful game, kagehina decides to compete over wrestling. that’s definitely something they’d do and it got me hooked.

• ⭐️ oh we play, in autumn days, by aruariandance — kagehina being silly boys and kageyama getting a phone. is it because he wants to text hinata? that, he’ll never admit. i’d give it a hundred kudos if i could.

• ⭐️ ridiculous, by festivetrickster — yachi has to spend some time with kagehina in their apartment. the way they live just makes me suspicious of their relationship. no, like, this is indeed so ridiculous but i like it so much!

• sunstruck, by orphan account — kageyama gets the help of romero to sort out his relationship with hinata. seeing introverted kageyama slowly but surely trust his teammate and idol with issues like this makes me proud.

• ⭐️ sun above your shoulders, by longleggedgit — even in an universe where they go to different high schools, kagehina meet each other anyway. everything’s delightful here!

• the missing piece, by akaashism (acciomerlin) — kageyama deals with the changes in hinata. just adorable, i giggled a lot.

• the trouble with soulmates, by navybluewings — our sweet cupid hinata’s journey to get soulmates bonds fixed! this au rocks.

• five star review, by emleewrites — hinata’s hired to paint kageyama’s wall and they start a “friendship” out of it. amazing to see this unfold, so nicely done.

• 🎖️ for the best of all possible worlds, by tinygumdrops (curryramyeon) — an au about kagehina’s relationship journey from across countries, including letters. they meet while being apart and we see it unfold. is there anything better than this? majestic!

• at the tip of your nose, by cloesh_scribbles — where kageyama’s obsessed with eskimo kisses and hinata’s obsessed with him. please help me after this, the fluff killed me.

• the video series, by sunnyslipper — kageyama and hinata breaking the internet over and over with their videos. funny and spot on!

• alexa, play waking up in vegas, by attackofthezee (noxlunate) — kageyama and hinata get married accidentally. the thing is, i can totally imagine them doing this. they’re absurd and lovely.

• meat bun is a love language, by icecreamromantic — kageyama decides to confess using meat buns. come on, it’s stupidly perfect!

• slipping through sand, by majesticanna — an au in which kagehina meet in brazil. just so warm, waaah!

• high dose, by akaashism (acciomerlin) — hinata convinces kageyama that, because of a health issue, he needs kisses. i swear, these silly boys will break me. this is excellent.

• why do i feel like it’s (fake) love, by izucaii — hinata and kageyama pretend to be boyfriends while in brazil. a gorgeous fake-relationship story!

• ⭐️ a best man’s worse problems, by villainphilia — tsukishima, the best man for kagehina’s wedding, prepares his speech while reminiscing how the two dumbasses got together. all of this is just marvellous!

• five proposals, by dayoldcupcake — kageyama proposing, hinata saying no. done with the intent of giving me diabetes. chef’s kiss!

• ⭐️ plain as day, by emleewrites — hinata has a low self-esteem and kageyama tries to make him realize how wonderful he is. i died and came back. truly stunning.

• kageyama tobio reads thirst tweets (unedited), by popcornpearl — after making a bet, kageyama reads thirsty tweets and tries not to blush. it’s harder than he expected. rated m!

• i’m lucky to have you, zukushou — the famous “just woke up high in anestesia and i can’t remember my own partner” trope. pure comedy, love this for them.

• ⭐️ the obvious is at eye level (but i might need a step stool), by dr_awkward221 — hinata watching sakusa’s relationship with miya and slowly realizing things about his own his kageyama. i loove this one, it’s unbearably good.

• ⭐️🎖️ let the light out, by uhohshouto — kagehina make a bet in which the other one must ask for something of the loser. kageyama wants a kiss… and then something more. seriously though, i can’t believe this; it’s a wonderful story, so entertaining. rated e!

• epic, by esselle — a surfing au with hinata as an instructor and kageyama as an arrogant professional. this charming scenario surely made my day.

• let’s take this offline, by pas_dautres — office employees kagehina who meet through emails and reports. i had to add this, because it’s nice, surely worth the read.

• 🎖️ these hands of time, these hands of mine, by fireheartaw — kageyama being introspective over their story together and apart. light angst maybe, but the narrative’s so interesting and captivating.

• discordant, by majesticanna — academic rivals kagehina meet again as professors. so short but so sweet!

• 🎖️⭐️ pursuit verse, series by emleewrites — a gambler hinata and an attorney kageyama based on the ace attorney game. never played the game. but the story? deserves to be printed. if you never read it, you need to. hear me out: you need to.

• ⭐️ getting it right, by akaashism (acciormerlin) — play pretend boyfriends for miwa who end up actually having domestic moments and finding out more about their feelings, hehe.

• know you better, by mysterytwin — bakery worker kageyama and spell shop owner hinata in a world of magic! great development and very poetic.

note that this is based on the fics i’ve known since i entered the fandom and that i truly enjoy. either they’re famous or not famous, i’m just adding them here for my future self contentment and for those who, just as me, wanted a full list of kagehina fics upon getting engaged in haikyuu media.

if you think i should add more and if you have recs for me too, i’m accepting them! thank yoou.

last update: 3/3/24

#haikyuu #kageyama tobio #kagehina #hinata shouyou #kagehina fic #kagehina fic rec

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milkloafy · 8 months ago

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REST AND RESPITE — DAN HENG

⋆｡˚ ❀ summary: dan heng finds himself growing fond of your outgoing and talkative nature. one day, when you’ve holed yourself in your room, he can’t help but worry about you. ⋆｡˚ ❀ wc: 1.0k ⋆｡˚ ❀ a/n: shhh i haven’t played 2.1 or 2.2 update yet so dan heng is still chilling in the express to me <3 wrote this while sleep deprived and accidentally made dan heng softer than planned :>

After the events that transpired at the Xianzhou Luofu, Dan Heng decided he needed the time to rest and reflect. He hoped March 7th and Trailblazer had a successful mission—he would surely join them again soon—but he knew he wouldn’t be giving his best effort if he were to go in his current state.

He decided a few moments of peace and quite would do him some good.

Unfortunately for him, however, you also stayed on board the Astral Express for the next mission.

Peace, he would still get. Dan Heng enjoyed your presence and the two of you had gotten closer over the years. But quiet… That was another story. Ever since you had joined the Astral Express, the halls wer filled with sounds of your laughter. On the nights you and March 7th had a sleepover planned, Dan Heng found himself needing earplugs, to put it kindly.

Despite the noise not being his typical preference, he noticed himself finding comfort in the liveliness and warmth you brought. Which is why, when a day came where he did not hear you chatting with Pom-Pom or Welt during your scheduled afternoon snack, Dan Heng began to grow concerned. After only brief contemplation, he walked down the hallway and knocked on your door, your favorite breakfast bar in hand.

“Y/N?” he called through the wall.

“Oh— Come in,” you said, your voice distant.

When he opened the door, he saw you curled up on the small sofa inside your room—your conversation area for guests, you had told him. You had a blanket wrapped around you and a slow-paced instrumental piece playing from your radio.

You waved as you looked up at him with a smile. “Hi there.”

“Hello.” Dan Heng extended the breakfast bar out to you. “I noticed you haven’t come out to eat yet. Thought you might be hungry.”

Your eyes brightened as you accepted the snack, expressing your thanks with a bow of your head.

“Is everything okay?” he asked once you took a bite. Though you didn’t look terrible, he still was unable to shake his worry. “You have been quiet today.”

You let out a small laugh, though it sounded unnaturally forced. “I’m sure you’re grateful for these few moments of silence.”

“Not when your wellbeing is in question.”

Your gaze warmed as his thoughtful words, patting the cushion next to you and beckoning him to take a seat. He obliged, feeling the warmth radiating from your body as his right arm pressed against you. Dan Heng quite enjoyed the warmth. You offered him the corner of your blanket and he shook his head, smothering a chuckle of amusement.

Once the two of you settled in, you said, “I’ve just been having bad dreams all night.” You paused, as if deciding how much more you wanted to share. “They were about my time…before the Astral Express.”

Dan Heng nodded in understanding. You did not have to say more. The Express welcomed all types of people, each with vastly different backgrounds. Everyone came from unique places and sometimes they were not the best ones. He was unable to verbalize this feeling of empathy out loud to you, but he hoped you sensed that he was there for you.

“I’m not really thinking about it anymore,” you assured, your tone rushed. “Now I’m just exhausted but haven’t been able to sleep.”

He hummed to himself. You seemed tired, even a bit troubled. Perhaps even someone like you needed time alone. But something told him that, for this particular situation, that didn’t seem to be the case.

Clearing his throat, he spoke up. “If you think it will help, you are welcome to join me in the Archives today. I still have some entries to input, but if you would like some company, I’ll be there.”

You straightened up in your seat, eyes wide with excitement, before a flash of hesitancy crossed your face.

“It…won’t be bothersome to you?”

“You’re never a bother,” he said firmly. “Though, perhaps your slumber parties with March 7th while I’m trying to sleep may be.”

That earned a laugh out of you. “Well, if you joined us one night, maybe you would see the appeal. Even Caelus joins sometimes!”

Dan Heng smiled at that. “Perhaps you are right.”

You nodded and said matter-of-factly, “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.”

He chuckled, happy to see a glimpse of your normal self coming out. Seeing you dejected and downcast was something he hated to witness, though he knew everyone had those moments. They were inevitable, after all. But Dan Heng wished he could always be there for you during those times.

It was natural to feel that way towards a good friend, he told himself. If he said it enough, maybe he would be convinced.

So why did he feel his heart race when you asked him to help you up from the couch? And why was he glad you didn’t let go of his hand even after you stood up?

Dan Heng wet his lower lip as he glanced at your connected hands. They were not even interlocked—just barely brushing—yet he still reacted in such a way. He looked over at your face and noticed a bashful smile gracing your features. It was a sight he wasn’t exactly used to seeing, but it was pleasant nonetheless.

Perhaps similar thoughts flashed through your mind about him. Did your heart also race when the two of you made close contact? Did your stomach flutter at his touch? He wanted to ask, but chose to hold back for now. You were distraught and vulnerable from your difficult night, and he thought it was more important to help you feel calm and well-rested first.

But as he caught you sneaking glances at him before looking away with a coy expression, Dan Heng knew he wouldn’t be able to hold back for long. Still, patience was a virtue and he was confident that it would pay off.

Soon, he promised himself. Dan Heng caught your eye and this time, you didn’t look away. He smiled and you returned it tenfold. Very soon.

#dan heng x reader #hsr x reader #dan heng x you #hsr x you #dan heng fluff #hsr fluff #hsr imagines #honkai star rail x reader #dan heng #honkai star rail

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creativepromptsforwriting · 1 year ago

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Spooktober Prompts Masterlist 2023

"They are calling us…" "Don't listen to them. Do you hear me? Don't listen to a word they promise you!"

The cameras show five people enter an elevator, but only four of them leaving it. Those four never remembered a fifth passenger.

"Aww, are you so afraid of the dark that you need me to hold your hand?" "I'm not holding your hand." "Then whose..."

At first, they believe it to be a bad joke, but when more and more graves of people who haven't died yet appear in the graveyard, they start to panic.

The camera she bought at a flea market already has photos on it. Since the people are wearing clothes from centuries ago, they believe them to be from a play. But they soon realize that those photos and events were real.

A child actress turned cult leader feels her power slipping and she needs to gain control over her following again.

When they started building the new school, they had expected to maybe find unexploded WWII bombs, but what they found instead was nothing they could have expected.

She heard footsteps behind her coming closer, but when she turned around, holding her breath, she could only see the dark and empty alley.

"Why did you choose the cemetary as our meeting place for tonight?" "Because only the dead can keep our secrets."

Going to your own funeral and see who would cry - it sounded almost fun. If it wasn’t for the fact that they could hear and see everything, but could not make a sound to stop them from closing up the grave around them.

A medium without a voice of her own, can only speak when a ghost speaks through her.

They had always felt that shadows seemed to beckon to them. But this time, when the shadows beckoned, they wore a sinister grin. (Submitted by: tumblebumblebee-63)

"I'm not haunting a filthy public bathroom, I'm a ghost with class."

A fun survival game TV show on a remote island becomes a reality when one contestant after the other turns up brutally killed. Right in front of hundreds of cameras and millions of watchful eyes.

Waking up to a child that you've never seen before, but that everyone assures you is your own that you've raised for years, is terrifying.

"Did you see that?" "Did I see what?" "That man... he touched the leaves and they immediately blackened and fell off. Please, let us go back before he sees us!" "Too late." The man in the dark cloak suddenly stood right in front of them and slowly reached out his hands to them.

What started as a fun midnight activity suddenly turned into one of them missing and the others running for their lives, trying to escape freaking zombies.

He always dreamed about being in a kdrama. He didn't imagine it to have a horror side plotline that feels way too real.

They said that when you die, you return to earth as your one true self. Why then, when he opened his eyes after being killed, were his teeth long and he hungered for blood? (Submitted by: ouilah)

She didn't think it would come to this point. She felt the cold stone of the gravestone in her back and before her the red glowing eyes of the creature crept slowly closer.

There are perks of being a ghost. Walking through walls was fun. Or haunting annoying people. But nothing was quite as nice as being able to just fade out of a conversation that you didn’t want to be a part of.

"I dare you! Come on, stop being a coward. There is no such thing as ghosts."

Someone wakes up to a text saying 'It's your lucky day!' and it turns out to be the worst day ever.

A family of vampires that lives unidentified in human communities, becomes paranoid and starts to believe all their neighbors are also supernatural creatures.

There are stories and superstitions abound about the seaside bluffs, but that's to be expected in a town of fishermen. One night, from the bluffs' direction, you hear someone singing, softly. (Submitted by: someoneoffthestreet)

Astronauts coming back to earth keep talking about hearing songs from outside the space shuttle. What they don't say, is that those songs followed them home.

Someone stared at her through the window. She had always felt safe in her own home, shutting out the scary, real world. But a window is just glass, and glass… oh it breaks so, so easily…

A plane disappears from the radar and then reappears multiple hours later at the exact same location in the middle of the ocean with no place to land and not enough fuel to just fly around for hours.

"We shouldn't enter! This place was abandoned for a reason!" "Come on, don't be a coward. We will be the only ones here!" "Okay, okay... I'll follow you. You don't have to push me!" "I... I didn't push you..."

A session of reading tea leaves ends in chaos when every single participant reveals a bad omen.

Something tells the home owner that the kids trick-or-treating in front of his house are not wearing costumes - and are not human at all.

If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee or become a member! And check out my Instagram! 🥰

#spooktober #spooky prompts #writeblr #spooktober 2023 #writing prompts #writers on tumblr #creative writing #writers #halloween

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pretzel-box · 4 months ago

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MDNI | TW: Body Horror, Detailed Graphic Description of Gore. Mention of Needles

Tags: Established Relationship, Devotion, Obsession, TW Tags above

Words: 2,2k

Sebastian Solace could hear your faint breathing in the silence, another form of melody that graced his ears. It was calming and invited him to pause from the burden of the daily life and dream instead. He was sure, your presence alone is like a bright shimmer at the edge of his void world, not blinding but so unbelievable radiant, a glow that pulls him towards your existence like the moon that beckons the tides.

His gaze lingers a bit longer than intended and yet not long enough to satisfy that hunger in his soul. He traced the curve of your form, with a fleeting glance, as you sit at the desk, lost in the pages that stretched out before you. Each turn of the paper is a soft whisper, a delicate flutter that harmonizes with the quiet rhythm of your breath. You are unaware, absorbed in the world between the lines, stories and memories, yet your every movement feels choreographed by the stars themselves—effortless, graceful, like a long lost dream.

Sebastian watches, mesmerized by the way your fingers brush the edges of the book, gentle as if you hold something precious. The faint light spills across your skin, casting a soft halo that wraps around you, an ethereal glow that seems to exist for his eyes alone. In the stillness, you are his celestial body, his guiding star, unknowingly illuminating the vast, shadowed corners of his heart.

Even the way you tilt your head, lost in thought, feels like the subtle pull of gravity, drawing him closer, though he remains in the quiet distance. He wonders if you can feel the way the air shifts around him, how it hums with the silent longing he tries to contain deep inside him. You are his solace, his steady beacon in a sea of darkness, and though you are unaware of his gaze, every part of you seems to call to him, softly and irresistibly.

The way your voice wrapped around his name sent a shiver down his spine, a sensation as delicate as the brush of sunlight after a long storm. "Oh, Sebastian," you had said, and it was as if the very air he breathed had shifted, softened, warmed. There was a tenderness in your words, a gentleness that seemed to cradle him, filling the empty spaces inside his chest.

Your voice, like the wind, swept through the quiet room, curling around him in invisible tendrils, soothing, comforting, and undeniably real. If sound could embrace, then surely this was the closest he'd ever come to feeling human warmth drenched in love. It enveloped him, like the gentle embrace of arms he longed to know. Each syllable lingered in the air, thick with sweetness, as though the very essence of your being flowed through the sound, leaving a trail of honey in its wake.

"Dreaming as always," you teased, your words lilting in a way that felt like a dance. "You surely got your head in the clouds." And oh, how right you were. He was far beyond the realm of mortals, his thoughts soaring high, lost among the stars you unknowingly filled his world with. His heart, caught in the sheer comfort of your presence, was suspended somewhere between the heavens and earth, weightless, adrift. You were not just the pull that grounded him, but the entire sky he yearned to float within, a cosmic force that kept him both dreaming and awake at the very same time.

He smiled faintly, helpless under your spell, for every word you spoke was like stardust falling gently into his soul, filling the dark spaces with light. You had no idea of the gravity you held over him, how your voice alone shaped his universe, a melody that kept him tethered to you, even as his mind wandered through galaxies made entirely of you.

Time passed, yet not a single day saw Sebastian’s love fade or waver. It flowed endlessly, like the ceaseless currents of the ocean, drenching you with his quiet, unwavering devotion. His love became a part of him, woven into the very fabric of his being, shaping every thought and action. He was ready to forsake even the simplest of pleasures, content to immerse himself entirely in the depths of your existence. Every movement, every breath, every word he spoke seemed to carry your name, a silent vow of his love that coursed through him like water through the veins of the sea.

"Hold still," he mumbled softly, his voice barely more than a whisper, soothing and gentle. There was no command in it, just a quiet reminder as he held the sharp silver needle between his large, grey fingers. The metal gleamed faintly in the light of his glowing lure, casting soft reflections across the water. He carefully threaded a piece of red string through the needle’s eye, makeshift and fragile, yet it was all he had. The first aid kits he’d scavenged from the Blacksite over time had long run dry, leaving him with no choice but to use whatever he could find.

Your arm lay before him, a deep gash marring the skin, crimson blood flowing down in slow rivulets, like rain sliding down a windowpane. It pooled on the floor below, dark and heavy in the water. Sebastian’s chest tightened as he worked with quiet precision, his fingers moving deftly, though the sight of your blood filled him with a deep ache.

He wished for better tools, for a world where you would never be hurt, where his hands wouldn't have to stitch your wounds with makeshift threads. But this was the Blacksite, where even tenderness had to survive in the cold, unforgiving depths.

His focus was entirely on you, though he remained silent. He didn’t want you to feel the weight of his worry, the way his heart clenched with every drop of blood that spilled. His touch was steady, careful, as if you were more precious than anything else in this forsaken place. And to him, you were.

Painter’s digital face flickered on the nearby navipath screen, his expression shifting to something indescribable—an emotion too complex for mere pixels to convey, especially on this tiny screen next to the door. He observed Sebastian with a silent intensity, studying the careful way his grey fingers moved as he worked on you. His glowing eyes flickered, tracing the delicate thread being pulled through decaying skin, before his gaze settled on you—on what was left of you.

Sebastian had become a creature of instinct, driven by something darker, something primal. He had torn through the dark halls of the Blacksite with a violence so raw, so brutal, that it left no room for mercy. Mere Limbs were shredded, layers of soft flesh ripped apart as if it were nothing more than paper beneath his hands. Deep crimson blood had flowed like rivers, drenching the cold metallic floors in a sea of red. The stench of rotting bodies clung to the air, thick and suffocating. He had bathed the Blacksite in death, and yet it was never enough.

He needed more.

Your body, once divine, had begun to rot so long ago. The soft skin of your face, once untouched by time, had long since withered away. Maggots crawled through what remained, eating away at your remaining existing flesh that had shriveled up and lost its radiant color, but Sebastian couldn't see it. Or perhaps he refused to. His eyes, dark and hollow in that shade of blue, only saw the memory of you—the beauty you once held, the light you once gave him. He couldn't bear to lose it.

So, he had followed in Urbanshade’s footsteps. He had learned, in the most twisted way, to preserve you. Piece by piece, he replaced what decayed, ripping parts from the bodies he’d slaughtered, stitching them together with thread, with force, with desperation so solid that it became the foundation of his delusion. He practiced, over and over, perfecting the art of sewing until murder became a ritual, a divine act of art in his mind in the name of creation.

Sebastian Solace had turned the Blacksite into his own cathedral of carnage, a place where death and love were inseparable. He had twisted his devotion into something monstrous, into a grotesque form of art where your body, patched and stitched together from the remains of his victims, was his only masterpiece. His love for you had become a relentless hunger, one that consumed him as completely as it had consumed the bodies he tore apart to keep you whole.

And still, he sat by your side, gently stitching, as if he were mending something sacred.

„Sebastian. They are gone.“

Sebastian’s gaze lingered on you, taking in your once delicate features, trying to grasp at the fading remnants of what you had been. But the longer he bathed in your presence, the more your appearance twisted and warped, a grotesque distortion of the memory he clung to. The rosy tint that had once colored your cheeks was gone, replaced by the sickly pallor of decaying flesh. Your skin, that soft, precious surface he had adored, was now peeling, hanging in ragged strips from your bones, exposing raw, festering meat underneath.

His heart quickened, the rhythm erratic as his mind scrambled for answers that weren't there. Where was the gentle glow in your eyes, the light that had once held him captive? Instead, hollow, sunken sockets stared back at him, their emptiness filled only with the dull sheen of rot. The stench of death clung to you, thick and nauseating, wrapping itself around him, filling his lungs with each breath until the taste of it settled heavy on his tongue.

The skin he had so tenderly sewn was slipping, the stitches frayed and torn, unable to hold together the decomposing mass that had once been you. His hands twitched, instinctively reaching for the needle and thread, desperate to fix it, to make you whole again. But no matter how many times he stitched, how many bodies he tore apart to replace the rotting parts, it was never enough. Your flesh, his precious masterpiece, was slipping away from him.

He could see the maggots now, squirming and writhing beneath the layers of your skin, feasting on what remained. The sight turned his stomach, but he couldn’t look away. He needed to save you—needed to preserve what little of you was left. Yet, the more he tried, the more your body melted into something unrecognizable, a grotesque nightmare that mocked his every attempt at salvation.

He broke like glass and died inside from a pain that couldn't be described with words. In the endless blue eyes were a deep reflection of total confusion as all traces of emotional warmth has left his body. Seconds passed, then minutes and somehow he wasn't sure if life really continued in that moment.

“I tried to eat them,” Sebastian whispered, his voice hollow, as if the confession carried no weight anymore, just a haunting echo in the stagnant air. He hovered above the floor, eyes tracing the dark puddle of blood mixed with filthy water beneath him. His reflection stared back, twisted and ghostly in a liquid that wasn’t even yours.

“After they died... I tried to eat their flesh to preserve them,” he continued, almost as if speaking to himself, his words barely audible. His gaze remained fixed on the pool as if searching for something—an answer, perhaps, or absolution. “I started with their neck... I remember, they loved it when I kissed their neck.”

His hand drifted to his mouth, his voice trembling, though his face remained eerily calm. “I sunk my teeth into the cold flesh... tasted the first drop of blood. I pulled at it, gently tearing away the skin, chewing it like it was some delicate meal. But all I tasted was metal—cold, bitter metal.”

His fingers twitched, reaching out to stroke the grotesque, rotting leg of the decaying mass that sat slumped in the chair, a body that barely resembled what it once had been. Painter, from his place on the screen, watched in silent horror as Sebastian caressed the flesh with disturbing tenderness, as if even now he could find traces of the beauty he once loved.

“It wasn’t like them," he muttered, his voice growing softer, more distant. "It wasn’t what they were. All I could taste was death. Cold, tasteless, soulless death.”

His hand trembled as it slid down the decayed limb, his eyes glazed over, lost in the memory. “But I kept eating... trying to find them in the flesh, in the blood. I devoured piece after piece, convinced that somewhere in the rot, they still existed. And then I woke up.”

His voice cracked, the weight of his confession finally settling in. “And I realized, I had tainted their beauty.”

He paused, staring at the ruin before him, his body still, his mind racing. “I wanted them back. So I began sewing. Stitching them together piece by piece. Everything I ate, I replaced. Everything I destroyed, I repaired. I cut away what was lost, what had withered. And everything that was them... everything that had been theirs... I loved.”

His fingers traced the jagged edges of the sewn flesh, a twisted mockery of the love he once held for you. In his mind, he had preserved you, kept you alive, bound to him through his grotesque ritual. But in the quiet shadows of the Blacksite, all that remained was a macabre testament to his obsession—a reflection of the madness that had consumed him.

And Painter realized, Sebastian is still utterly in love with you.

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