#HI WHY ARE CRABS UPON ME

[cavern-of-shenanigans]

@faithblob-says-things CRAB JUMPSCARE??

[frenchbreadandeggs]

JIN ENJOJI X READER | non-consensual clothing removal. implied assault. slight manga spoilers about Jiji. 3.4k wc

“Wanna go out and stargaze?” That’s what Jiji said before the both of you were chased down by blood sucking aliens. “I’m never going out stargazing with you again!” you screamed at his ear as the both of you ran away from the aliens. “I’m sorryyy!”

“Hey, gimme that crab leg!” Momo yelled, as she tried to take a plate from grandma Seiko.

“Quit it kid, I paid for this!”

The two brawled at the table, leaving you, Okarun and Turbo Granny trying to eat peacefully.

Okarun let out a sight, glancing between Momo and Grandma Seiko as they wrestled over the crab leg. Plates clattered and the table shook under the petty chaos but neither of them showed any sign of backing down.

“You guys do this every time,” Okarun muttered, shaking his head as he poked his food. “Can’t we have a normal meal?”

You could only shake your head, while Turbo Granny cackled beside him, already halfway through a plate stacked high with food for a small lucky cat. “Let ‘em fight! Adds flavor to the meal!” she said, her sharp toothy grin stretching wide as she shoved more food into her mouth.

Momo finally managed to grab the crab leg, only for Seiko to counter by whacking her on the head with her hand.

“Ow! That’s dirty fighting!” Momo protested, rubbing her head.

“All’s fair in love and seafood!” Seiko shot back, snatching the crab leg back on triumph. “This is mine!”

Okarun sighed, again, pushing his plate away. “I’m starting to think I should’ve stayed home.”

“Momo, you can take my crab leg instead.” you pushed your plate towards her, her eyes shined like stars as she hugged you.

“My only loving cousin who is blood related to me actually cares for me, unlike that hag over there!”

“Who you sayin’ hag, huh?!”

“Ow ow ow! My ear!”

Both of them started bickering again, you could only give Okarun a small apology for seeing your family like this. He shyly waved it off, taking his food again and continued eating again. Before you could take a bite of your food, you heard a knock on the door. You quietly excused yourself as the both still brawled as you walked towards the door to see who’s outside at this hour. Opening it, you were greeted by a familiar face.

“Hello, kawaii-chan!” Jiji greeted you with a smile.

“Jiji! Why are you out here at this hour?” you asked, surprised by his visit.

He took something from his back and showed a plastic bag.

“Mom asked me to give this to your aunt—”

“Grandma.”

“G-grandma, she made too many and we couldn’t finish it with just the three of us so we got the extras for you!”

You gratefully took the plastic bag from Jiji, “Do you want to come in?”

“Uhhh actually… I wanna ask you if you wanna stargaze, tonight.” he looked away, pink blush coloring his cheeks. But you somehow didn’t notice.

“Oh, sure! I’ll put this inside and change—”

“But your clothes are decent enough though,” Jiji interrupted, pointing at your uniform.

He wasn’t wrong. You’re still in your school uniform since you usually eat first before changing into pajamas.

You shrugged, “Sure, I’ll tell Granny that I’ll go out.”

You offered Jiji to enter the house even joining in the dining area with the four but he politely refused. 

Upon entering the dining room, the scene hadn’t changed much. Momo and Seiko were still bickering, their voices loud enough to echo through the house. Okarun however, was now unconscious on the floor with a bump on his head and Turbo Granny laughing.

You sighed, shaking your head as you placed the bag on the table, “Oi, I’ll be going out with Jiji tonight. Don’t do anything weird at this house.”

Before they could even give you a response, you’ve already left.

“That was quick.” Jiji said as you were putting your shoes on.

“Nah, they were fighting over a crab leg so I just told them I’m going out with you and left.” you responded, taking a step outside the house.

“So, where are we goin’?”

The cliff overlooked Kamikoshi City, the entire landscape spread out beneath you like a glowing painting. The city lights sparkled across the skyline, casting a soft glow over the distant buildings and streets. Each flicker and glimmer seemed to pulse with life, creating a breathtaking view that drew a gasp from you.

“This is… amazing,” you murmured, feeling the cool night breeze brush against your skin. The vastness of it all, the contrast between the peaceful night sky and the bustling city below, was overwhelming in the best way.

Jiji stood beside you, hands in his pockets, smiling at your reaction. “Yeah, I thought you’d like it,” he said, before stepping closer.

He then placed his hand on your head, tilting it upward. “But look at this,” he added. Above, the stars twinkled like tiny diamonds scattered across the midnight sky, their light seemingly to pulse with an ethereal glow. 

The sight was mesmerizing, the stars stretching endlessly into the distance. “Holy shit…” you whispered, captivated by the beauty of the midnight sky.

Jiji chuckled softly beside you, lowering his hand. “Told you.”

As your eyes glued at the sky, Jiji cleared his throat. “Uh, I have something to say to you,” he mumbled.

“Hm?” You pulled your gaze away from the sky, turning to face him. The sight that greeted you was unexpected—Jiji’s face was flushed a deep red, like he’d just stepped out of a sauna. His usual carefree demeanor was replaced with visible tension, and he couldn’t quite meet your eyes.

You raised an eyebrow, curious. “What’s up?”

Jiji fidgeted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I… uh…” He trailed off, his nervousness intensifying. His usual confidence seemed to evaporate in the cool night air, leaving him at a loss for words.

“Jiji—”

You paused mid-sentence, your heart suddenly racing as you caught sight of something lurking behind Jiji. A faint, blue glow flickered in the shadows of the trees, two piercing eyes that seemed to watch you intently.

Your breath hitched in your throat, and you instinctively took a step back, feeling a chill run down your spine. He turned, following your gaze, and his expression shifted from confusion to alarm as he spotted the glowing eyes.

“What the hell is that?” Jiji muttered, his flusterness momentarily vanishing.

The eyes narrowed, and you could feel a sense of dread creeping closer. Whatever it was, it wasn’t friendly. You instinctively moved closer to Jij.

He felt you draw closer. Without thinking, he turned and pulled you behind him, his grip firm as he shielded you with his body. His grip on you never loosened.

Before either of you could react, a long, metallic tentacle shot out from the shadows, wrapping around your ankle. Panic surged through you as it yanked you off your feet, dragging you towards the darkness of the trees.

“Hey! No!” Jiji shouted, instinctively lunging forward but the distance was too great.

You clawed at the dirt, desperate not to be dragged into the unknown. While you were being dragged, you saw a branch. Quickly taking it, you then jabbed it to the tentacle resulting in letting you go.

Footsteps quickly went up to you and held both of your arms and helped you stand up to your feet.

Jiji huffed, “We need to get out of here—”

Before he could finish his sentence, another tentacle shot out from the shadows, snaking around his waist and lifting him off the ground. He let out a startled gasp, eyes wide with shock as he dangled helplessly in the air.

“Jiji!” you screamed, your heart racing as panic surged through you. You reached out instinctively, but the distance between you felt overwhelming.

As the creature stepped out of the shadows, your breath caught in your throat. It was a metallic alien, its body shimmering under the faint moonlight, revealing a sleek, elongated form covered in glinting scales. Its eyes glowed with a menacing blue light, illuminating its sharp, angular features.

“Foolish humans,” it spoke, its voice echoing unnaturally, reverberating in the still night air. “I need female blood to sustain myself… and a male genital. How lucky I am.”

“What’s with you aliens and private parts!” you shouted.

“Power,” it responded wickedly, sending shivers down your spine. “Now shut up, this won’t hurt.”

Before you could react, it lunged another tentacle toward you. It was too fast, ensnaring both of your arms and lifting you off the ground. You gasped, feeling the grip tighten around you like a vise.

Jiji's eyes widened in horror as he struggled against his own restraints. “Let her go!” he shouted with desperation, his voice breaking through the tension in the air.

The metallic alien turned its glowing gaze toward him, its expression unreadable but its intent clear. “Silence!” it hissed, the tentacles around you tightening as it drew you closer to its maw, the cold metal brushing against your skin.

As it drew nearer, the alien grumbled, “Your clothes are useless; the more skin exposed, the more places I can draw blood.”

With a swift motion, it tore the top of your uniform, leaving you exposed down to your bra. You gasped, horror and anger washing over you. “My uniform!” you shouted, kicking your legs frantically in a desperate attempt to break free. “You perv! That cost my week’s allowance!”

The alien’s glowing eyes narrowed, its metallic form looming over you with a chilling satisfaction. “Do not concern yourself with such trivial matters. Your pain will only serve to nourish me.”

“Shut up!” you spat back, anger rising within you. “You think you can just take whatever you want? I won’t let you!”

The alien ignored your words as it revealed more tentacles at its back, shutting you up in the process. This is it, it is your end.

You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the pain you feared would come. Instead, to your shock, the alien released its grip on your arms, and you fell into someone’s waiting embrace.

“Gotcha!” came a familiar voice, warm and reassuring. You opened your eyes to see Jiji holding you securely in his arms.

“Jiji?! How—”

“I trained under your aun— I mean your grandma without needing the evil eye!” he declared, a grin breaking through the tension as he tightened his grip on you.

You remembered he did train under Granny Seiko. You looked at the side where the unconscious alien was and saw the ground dented.

Before you could speak, a blast cut you off not far from your position. You froze, heart racing as a UFO descended from the sky, its tentacles swaying ominously at its sides. To your horror, more aliens—similar to the one that had attacked you both—poured out of the craft, their glowing eyes scanning the area as they began to advance.

“We need to run! WE NEED TO RUN!” you screamed, adrenaline surging through you. You jumped out of Jiji’s arms and grabbed his hand, yanking him into a sprint.

The two of you dashed through the underbrush, branches whipping against your skin as you navigated the chaotic terrain. The sounds of the aliens behind you echoed in the night air, their guttural growls mixing with the rustle of leaves and the pounding of your heart.

You were now being chased by blood sucking aliens.

“I’m never going out stargazing with you again!” you screamed at his ear as the both of you ran away from the aliens.

“I’m sorryyy!” he cried out loud.

Jiji’s legs burned as he pushed himself to keep pace with you, heart racing more from fear than the sprint itself. “How was I supposed to know they’d come out of nowhere?” he wailed, his voice cracking as another alien screeched behind you.

You glanced over your shoulder just in time to see one of the blood-sucking aliens close in, its grotesque, tentacles stretching unnaturally fast. “Less talking, more running!” you yelled, grabbing Jiji’s arm to yank him forward as he tripped over a rock.

“I really didn’t mean for this to happen,” he huffed, his breath ragged from the frantic sprint. “I just wanted us to have a chill night, look at the stars, maybe talk about—”

A sharp, hissing sound interrupted his apology as another alien leaped from a nearby tree, its glowing blue eyes locking onto both of you.

“Save it for after we survive!” you barked, dragging him down to the road you both took when you hiked to the cliff. Your heart pounded in your chest, adrenaline coursing through your veins as the aliens screeched louder, closing in from every direction.

Jiji stumbled again, nearly pulling you down with him. “Why do these things always happen when we hang out?!”

“I don’t know! But maybe we should stop hanging out!” you yelled, half-joking as you pushed yourself harder. Your legs burned, but the fear of those creatures fueled you.

A blast of energy hit the ground beside you, sending dirt and debris into the air. You barely dodged it, pulling Jiji out of harm's way. The cliff edge loomed nearby, but there was no time to admire the view.

“We need a plan!” Jiji shouted, glancing back at the approaching aliens. “We can’t outrun them forever!”

“You can do that laser beam shit right?!” you said, “I haven’t fully controlled my powers unlike Momo but I can push them into one line and you can blast them!”

Jiji's eyes widened as he stumbled, nearly tripping over a branch in his shock. “W-What?! I haven’t exactly mastered that yet!”

“We don’t have a choice!” you interrupted, yanking him back on track. “I’ll line them up. Just focus!”

The screeches from the aliens were growing louder, closer. You could practically feel their cold, metallic presence nipping at your heels.

“Alright,” Jiji huffed, swallowing his fear. “But if we die, I’m blaming you!”

You threw him a sharp look, “Just concentrate!”

Gathering your breath, you dug deep into your energy reserves, feeling a familiar warmth surge through your veins. You pivoted, locking your focus on the swarm of aliens behind you. With a fierce shove of your hand, you forced the air around them to compress, pushing them into a tight line like bowling pins. They writhed and screeched in response, tentacles flailing in resistance, but you held them there, your heart pounding from the strain.

“Now, Jiji!” you yelled, sweat beading down your forehead.

Jiji planted his feet, his expression grim as he raised his trembling hands toward the creatures. The familiar energy crackled around his palms, flickering uncertainty. For a second, you thought it wouldn’t work, but then—

A beam of bright energy shot from his palms, exploding into the air with a deafening roar. The blast surged forward, striking the trapped aliens and sending a shockwave that lit up the entire forest.

When the dust settled, the screeching had stopped. Only silence remained.

Jiji, breathless and wide-eyed, turned to you, a mix of awe and disbelief on his face. “Did… did that really just work?”

You exhaled heavily, releasing the tension in your body as you slumped down on a nearby rock. “Barely,” you muttered, staring at the smoking crater where the aliens once stood. "But we’re alive, so I’ll take it."

Jiji collapsed beside you, laughing weakly. “I need a nap.”

“Hey,” you raised the upper part of your body and faced him, “We need to go home first.”

He looked at you, then his eyes looked down. There was this unexplainable reaction from him as his face turned red again and looked away.

“Huh? What’s the matter?”

“You don’t have a top on…”

Your eyes widened as you followed Jiji’s gaze, realizing that your torn uniform had been left in shambles from the earlier attack. Heat flooded your cheeks as you instinctively crossed your arms over your chest.

“J-Jiji!” you sputtered, glaring at him as you quickly tried to cover yourself. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?!”

“I—I didn’t want to make it weird!” Jiji stammered, his face a deep shade of red as he kept his eyes firmly averted, staring intently at a nearby rock. “I mean, we were fighting for our lives! There wasn’t really time to—”

“Ugh, just—turn around or something!” you snapped, completely mortified.

Jiji awkwardly spun on his heel, back facing you as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Right, right! Sorry, my bad!”

You groaned in frustration but couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled up despite the embarrassment. “This has officially been the weirdest night ever.”

“Agreed,” Jiji muttered, still bright red. “Here,” he draped his jacket over you.

You blinked in surprise as Jiji draped his jacket over your shoulders, the fabric still warm from his body.

“Thanks,” you muttered, pulling it tighter around yourself. The jacket was oversized on you, the sleeves dangling past your hands, but it was much better than nothing.

Jiji rubbed the back of his neck again, his usual energy replaced by an awkward tension. “No problem. I, uh, didn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

You nodded, you then remembered something. “Oh yeah, you wanted to say something?” you said, looking up to him.

Jiji froze for a moment, his eyes widening slightly as if he had forgotten all about what he had planned to say. His face turned red, again, and avoided eye contact, glancing everywhere except at you.

“Uh… yeah,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his head nervously. “I… I wanted to tell you something earlier, before, you know—” he gestured vaguely at the destroyed cliffside and the direction the aliens had fled.

You raised an eyebrow, curious. “Before the aliens attacked?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, taking a deep breath as if he were trying to summon all of his courage. “I just... I didn’t get the chance because of all the chaos, but I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while now.”

You waited, your heart pounding slightly. “Tell me what?”

Jiji glanced at you briefly, then quickly looked away again. “I… I like you,” he finally blurted out, his voice rushed but genuine. “Like, more than just friends.”

“It’s almost midnight, where the hell is she?” Momo grunted, worry laced in her annoyed voice. “She haven’t exactly mas—”

A knock on the door cut Momo off, she hurriedly ran to the door and opened. Momo's eyes widened at the sight of you standing there, wrapped in Jiji’s oversized jacket, while Jiji stood awkwardly behind you, shirtless and looking very out of place. Her mouth hung open for a second, taking in the bizarre scene before her.

“What the—?” Momo blurted, her annoyance quickly shifting to shock. “Where the hell have you two been?!” she then looked at Jiji,  “And why are you half-naked?!”

You were too tired to speak, but you forced yourself anyway. “Long story… involving aliens. Again.”

Jiji scratched the back of his head, clearly embarrassed. “I can explain, but it’s not what it looks like!”

Momo crossed her arms, her expression a mix of disbelief and concern. “You’d better explain fast, because this is getting ridiculous.”

You pushed your cousin inside the house, “We’ll do that tomorrow, it’s super late.”

“Okay fine,” Momo huffed, “I’ll leave you two alone.”

As Momo disappeared into the house, you turned back to Jiji, exhaustion weighing on your shoulders. The events of the night were still catching up to you, and it felt like you could collapse at any moment.

Jiji shifted uncomfortably under your gaze, his face still slightly flushed. “So… would you still stargaze with me?” he said with a weak chuckle, trying to ease the tension.

“Of course, though the place should not be reeking of spirits and aliens.” you replied, putting your hands inside his borrowed jacket.

Jiji gave a soft smile, “No aliens and spirits, noted.”

“Yeah,” you replied, letting out a small, tired laugh. “Let’s save that for a less eventful night.”

For a moment, you both stood in the quiet hallway, the weight of the night hanging between you.

“Get some rest,” he finally said, his voice soft. “I’ll head home before your grandma decides I’m staying the night.” He offered a small, playful smile, but you could see the exhaustion in his eyes.

“Yeah, I’ll do that.” You gave him a tired nod, then glanced toward the door. “Thanks again, Jiji. For… everything.”

He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, smiling a little brighter. “You don’t have to thank me. You’re my… friend.” His voice faltered at the last word, and for a split second, something more flickered in his eyes before he quickly turned and headed toward the door.

As he opened it, a gust of cool night air swept in. “Goodnight,” he said, throwing a final wave over his shoulder before stepping outside.

You stood there for a moment longer, staring at the now-closed door, a strange mix of relief, exhaustion, and something unspoken settling in your chest.

“Hey, Jiji.”

“Yeah?”

“I like you too.”

[dadsbongos]

ANOTHER ONE

fucking stupid part 2 i did for my yuuji fic for ao3 :) and decided to post here lol

2.1 K words

warnings - 18+ mdni !!, pwp, penis IN vagina, thigh fucking, tummy bulge (+pressin on it), minor headlock action, yuuji is hesitant but not NOT into it, a lot of drool, mentions of sukuna's cannibal past (not sexified)

Yuuji excels at the single most important tenet of being a boyfriend.

Compromise.

A giver at heart and selfless and so, so loving, he practically bends to your every whim - something Nobara and Megumi love teasing him over. Yes, he would crab walk over glass if you so much as asked, but he will not bend to this.

“I don’t trust you,” Yuuji is stubborn on this, and this alone.

“I’m the reason you’re with her!” the red eye stabs him through your bathroom mirror, “You forget that, vermin!”

“You’re literally in my body,” he sighs, “And keep your voice down, I don’t want her hearing us argue,” at the unimpressed stare Sukuna levels him with, Yuuji only sighs louder, “I don’t know why you even think she’ll want you.”

“I know her body more than you could ever hope to, worm,” if Sukuna notices the way Yuuji huffs, he certainly doesn’t let it be known, “Studied it to perfection years ago, and spent my time in solitude remembering every detail. Every stretch mark and curve and swell of fat - I know her body better than you. I know it.”

Well, he was stubborn on this.

“Be nice,” Yuuji grips the smooth counter of your sink, he could never hold out against you and your batting lashes and sweet voice, “I’m taking over the second she seems upset.”

Another low-lidded, testing glare from Sukuna, and Yuuji shakes his head before throwing the bathroom door open.

“Well?” your fingers lace together in your lap, bottom lip tight between your teeth.

Centuries ago, in different bodies, the two of you were in this same position - with a different question on your lips.

“Well?”

“Well, what?” Sukuna had settled in beside you, the tatami mat squishing beneath his heavy weight and he still towered over you, “Speak up.”

“Well,” you leaned back, head falling against your pillow and fluttering your lashes up at Sukuna, “Would you eat me?”

Rolling over, Sukuna planted a knee between your legs with two arms holding himself from crushing you, the remaining two curled around your waist, “How do you mean, hm?”

Reaching a hand up, your soft palm cradled the unhardened side of his face, giggling when his tongue lolled against the tip of your thumb, “You know how I mean.”

He did. It’s something you’d mentioned since falling into poor health - a stiff question that leaves his heart cold and skin raised. When he should’ve been used to this. He was. He’d eaten many people before you and, even then, he was certain he'd eat many people after you. You’d fed him. You’d helped Uraume cook his meals. You were used to this.

Sensing his hesitation, you slid your hand from his cheek to ghost your fingertips over his lips. Kissing the pads of your fingers, Sukuna’s lids were low as he stared down at you - and he knew the answer you didn’t want to hear.

“It’d be an honor,” you cooed, because of course you already knew which way he was leaning, “To be with you like that. Forever.”

“Greedy,” he teased, slipping from his knees to sit back. He scooped you up with his hold around your waist to settle you atop his lap, his other two hands cupped your cheeks. Your own hand moved down to the base of his throat, fingers tracing the bridge of his collarbones, “Eating you would be a disservice to this beautiful body.”

The word is nourishing, spring water on a dry tongue. You used to fear a long, drawn-out death (not death, not around Sukuna), you’ve seen these same sunken eyes and shaking hands in others. And you did not find them awe-inspiring. But Sukuna has given you no question if his eyes still fell upon you kindly.

You frowned and he scoffed, “You won’t even think about it?”

But Yuuji has no idea about any of that.

Yuuji sits beside you and takes your hands tightly between his, “I can always come back.”

“I know!” you lean in and kiss his cheek sweetly, “I’m just curious.”

Because there has to be something Sukuna can offer if he insists on maintaining this obsession with you (in front of your boyfriend, no less).

…

“Are you nervous, bunny?”

Your heart beats in your throat. Your palms soak into the sheets when you grip them. Your bottom lip is on the brink of bleeding between your teeth. But no, no you are not nervous.

No matter how much you probably should be. And no matter how much it should’ve taken, Sukuna doesn’t take long to put you on your back - lips locked to yours. He cackles cruelly when you huff after he pulls away.

Sukuna binds your knees together, plush thighs trapped against one another. Releasing one knee just to feed his cock through the wetted spot between your thighs, he quickly flushes his chest against the back of your thighs. Both arms winding around your legs to keep them shut around him.

“So wet from just a little kissing,” he stares down at where the head of his cock peeks out, kissing your clit on the way. He fucks your thighs slowly, taking earnest joy in how you whine.

Your teeth sink into the back of your hand at the sensation of Sukuna parting your lips and bumping your clit with his dick. He groans, deep in the back of his throat, when he can feel that gush of slick from your cunt.

“I knew this brat couldn’t care for my bunny as I can,” he slips from between your thighs entirely to press his tip inside you. Your chest rises in a quick gasp, jerking at the intrusion, “You missed me,” he states simply, settling his weight on his elbows beside your head as he teases slow thrusts, “Cunt’s sucking me back in,” he snickers at your squeaking as his hips speed up, “You missed me so much.”

You have no idea what he’s talking about. But you can’t call him on it when he’s clawing at your sides and thighs to flip you onto your stomach, perking your hips snugly against his.

“I’ve seen him,” his hand presses against your lower belly, thrusting down and deep and hitting that spot Yuuji magically detects and obsesses over - that spot that makes drool humiliate the corners of your lips, “That brat abusing your poor clit. Like you can’t cum without it.”

“Huh…” your mushy brain barely registers the disrespect to your boyfriend, “hey…!”

“Do you wanna show him I can fuck you better?” despite that questioning lilt, you don’t think a response could change his pre-determined mind, “I can make you cum without setting a fire between your legs.”

He pulls out slow and miserable, smoothing the hand not on your tummy down your back and curling into your hair.

Sukuna leans his weight into you when he bottoms out, he laughs watching your cheek smush against your mattress. He laughs as his hand untangles from your hair to squeeze around the soft fat of your hip. He laughs when you wheeze with the springs as he pulls out and thrusts back in, rolling his hips flush against you.

“What a good bunny I have,” he coos, slicking his hot tongue over the exposed flesh of your neck, relishing in how his skin audibly pap, papa, paps against yours. You moan, lightheaded, and your forehead hangs into your pillow. He presses on that spot where he bulges inside you, going mad over the choked gasp in your throat, “My sweet bunny.”

Curling an arm around your throat, Sukuna’s muscles squeeze around the soft flesh of your neck. Desperately, the skin of his chest clings to your back as he leans down, teething at the sensitive spot on your shoulder - the one Yuuji bites and the one he bit for himself centuries ago. Licking the sweat from your body and cackling as you squirm under the slick, wet run of his tongue.

His hips quicken, borderline battering that spot in your cunt to really make you messy. You bury your face into the soft pillow, but Sukuna ‘tsk’s and undoes the arm from your neck to lift your chin. He licks up the drool from your lips and swallows the pitchy moans he’s been starving for from behind Yuuji’s ears.

He consumes you, melding your skin to his and ensuring you cannot leave again.

“Good- “ he grits it between clenched teeth, “girl! Good girl. Good girl,” he grunts each word between thrusts. He groans, thick and gravelly, digging his nails into your soft skin, “My best fucking girl.”

Your face is on fire, the backs of your thighs clinging to Sukuna’s, and the wetness of your cunt stringing between the both of you. Loud, sloppy echoes of that wetness only make the fire burn hotter. You whine, hands scrambling back and clinging to Sukuna’s thighs, nails biting into the thick muscle.

“Aw, you’re squeezing me,” Sukuna refuses to slow down, bouncing your body on his cock from behind, “Are ya gonna cum, bunny?”

And any respect you were trying to maintain for your out-of-commission boyfriend is quickly tossed aside, “Yes! Yes, ‘m gonna cum, Sukuna…!”

“You want me to make you cum?” he reaches both hands down and takes hold of your face, fingers dipping into your open mouth, “Say it, bunny - fuck - say you want me to make you cum.”

As best you can through his fingers parting your lips and pressing on your tongue, you cry, “Please, Sukuna- please, please make me cum. Wanna cum, wanna cum with you, need you to make me cum…!”

“Need me,” Sukuna repeats, palms soft against you despite bullying his cock into your weepy hole, “Need me, need me, need me…”

“Uh… huh,” you whine, the coil in your stomach eats at itself and your thighs shake, “Need you, Sukuna! Need - hah! - need… cum, please!”

“Cum for me, bunny,” he teases his fingers further into your throat, just to see if you’ll remember.

“God- fuck!” your hands cinch around his thighs just as your cunt does to his cock, tugging him closer, deeper as you finally soak him in your cum. Chanting his name with a sugary, soft, “Sukuna! Sukuna! Sukuna!”

You don’t seem to recognize it, the need to cum overshadowing the need to meld your bodies into one.

His cock spits hot cum in your tight, sucking cunt despite the realization. He keeps himself pressed against you, dragging his fingers from your mouth and circling his arms around your soft waist.

Sukuna rolls onto his back, pulling you on his chest and letting his softening cock slip from you. He peppers your raw, marked shoulder in tender kisses - then moving to your neck - then your cheek. He feels your cheeks ball up in a grin under his attention.

Your ditzy head falls against his shoulder and he doesn’t know how much longer he has like this. So he ignores the cooling saliva on his fingers and the mixed cum flowing from your hole and onto his thigh. He never minded the mess before, and he certainly doesn’t mind it now.

“Don’t forget me, hm?” you blink up at him drowsily, “If you ever get tired of that brat.”

You don’t remember asking him to gobble you up, and you don’t remember wanting to clutch his hand in your final moments, but you still see something in him. Something he thought was sealed away long, long ago.

He misses you. Whatever life you shared, he hasn’t been able to mourn.

Giggling, you nod and kiss his cheek. He slips hair from your hair and studies the way you flutter into sleep. Commits it to his memory and lets Yuuji take back the body with little more than a scoff.

You rouse later in the night, feeling your bed dip beside you, a thick warm arm sweeping you into an equally warm chest. A steady heartbeat ba-dumps into your ear. You nestle into the cradle.

“Cleaned ya and then showered,” Yuuji murmurs, lips soft against your forehead, “I take it you liked the big guy?”

Snorting, you nod sluggishly, cheek sticking to his skin, “Mhmm.”

“Good,” he suddenly groans, “Sukuna doesn’t know anything!”

“Mh?”

“I can make you cum without your clit,” he pouts, looking down at you despite your closed eyes, “You believe in me, right, babe?”

“Mhm.”

“Exactly. Thank you!” he kisses your forehead this time, “Alright, we’ll try that another day. Get some sleep already, jeez!”

“Hm!” you huff fitfully.

“Okay, okay,” he whispers, “Shutting up now.”

And, for now, you ignore how right it felt to have Sukuna’s mean fingers fucking your mouth.

~~~

people i think will be into this @moonlitdivination @kingofthe-egirls

[sanyu-thewitch05]

Yandere Prince x Witch! Reader

TW: Drugging (Love Potion), dubcon

Wanna buy me a coffee?: ☕

Once upon a time, in a land full of magic, a witch is in her tower stirring liquid in her cauldron.

"Ok, my seafood boil should be ready," You say, wiping the sweat off your head.

Your phone rings from the counter, and zap it so it answers the call.

"Y/N, we've gotta go to this ball!" Your friend, Ella, full name Eleanor Charming, exclaims, making you roll your eyes.

"Ella, just because your family has extreme luck finding love at balls, doesn't mean I will. Besides, I like living in the woods. The princess with powers and Eduardo are good friends. I babysit their kids sometimes, real firecrackers," You respond, tying your hair up. "Now, if you excuse me, I have crab legs to eat."

"Too late, I already magiced up a dress for you!" Ella exclaims, appearing behind you. "Boom!" 

White light hits you, and suddenly, your comfy purple pajamas are replaced with a long, purple ball gown with black lace covering the front. You have long, black latex gloves and thigh-high high-heel shoes swirling around your legs made from crystal. Your hair is in a bun and is held by an ornament resembling thorns. 

"You really chose a look that says I'm from the Woods, huh?" You question, walking to Ella. 

"Yes, I did. Now, come on, we're about to be late!" Ella giggles, grabbing your hand and running to the black Mercedes outside your castle. "I modified the animal into carriage spell into something more modern."

You buckle your seatbelt, and Ella speeds off to the prince's castle. As you wait in the line of limos, you redo your lipgloss and spritz a bit of perfume to get the crab smell of your skin. 

"It's our turn, get ready!" Ella squeals, giving the car to the valet.

"Princess Ella Charming and her friend, Lady Y/N L/N!" The announcer yells as the two of you walk into the ball.

"Wow, this place is bright," You comment, looking at all the jewels, lights, and glamor.

"I know, right? It's so we can glimmer as we dance," Ella exclaims, dancing away with a man.

"Well, I've been left alone," You grumble, grabbing a glass of wine and walking to the hallway.

While exploring the castle, you find a path leading to the royal garden. You see a handsome man with blonde hair, tan skin, and greenish-blue eyes crying near a large fountain with a mermaid spitting water. You realize it's Prince Henry's younger brother, Prince Helio.

"Henry...why did you have to go?" He cries, making you feel sorry for him.

"Uh, hi! Sorry to interrupt your crying session, but would you mind me asking what's wrong?" You ask, revealing yourself. 

"Oh, sorry. I'm supposed to be out there finding a queen to rule with, but I'm out here crying over my brother. Henry was such a good older brother to me. He helped me with studies and sword training, but then he went into those woods and never came back. Now, here I am about to be king alone with only my mom and dad as family," The young man weeps, wiping tears from his face.

You knew what happened to the former Prince Henry. Everyone in the Woods did. But, it's things like this that are the reason people like you live in the Woods.

"I'm sure your brother misses you dearly. Even if he can't come back, I'm sure he'd want you to be a good king to your people," You comfort him, handing him your glass of wine. "Besides, it's your party. Wouldn't exactly want to let everyone down, would you?" 

"You're right. I, Prince Helia, shall make this the best pre-engagement party in this kingdom. Now, do you desire another drink, love?" 

"Yes, and just so you don't have to keep calling me love, my name is Y/N L/N."

Prince Helia leaves to get a cup of wine for you, and he pulls out a pink vial from his cape and pours it into your wine. He shakes the cup a little and lets the potion settle into the wine. He smiles lustfully, knowing he'll have the eternal love, the fairy tale ending he always wished for.

"Here's your class of wine, princess," Helia says, passing you the drink while he secretly pours the rest of the vial into his wine. "To happy endings!"

"To the Woods!" You proclaim, wrapping your arm around his to do your toast.

"To love!" You and Heli exclaim, drinking the wine.

When the wine travels down your throat, the potion takes effect immediately. You feel dizzy, and your wine falls to the ground. You fall, and Helia catches you.  

"My love, are you ok?" Prince Helia asks, holding you in his arms as he feels his heart beating. 

"Helia~" You moan, sitting up and leaning in to kiss him.

You kiss Helia, and it's like you both have lost control of your body and emotions. The kiss feels so good, you could've sworn you are in heaven. His hands roam your body as your tongues intertwine. Spit comes out of both of yours and Helia's mouths, and his short blonde hair ruffled as your hands run through it.

"I love you. I love you. I love you!" Helia chants, his kisses trailing down your neck. 

"Ah-ah~" You moan, sticking your neck out as leaves his mark.

Helia undoes your corset, and he throws it to the side. Your dress falls to your waist, leaving your breasts bare for him to see. You quickly shimmy off the rest of the dress and kiss Helia again.

"You look absolutely gorgeous, darling," Helia compliments, his eyes full of lust and love. "I need to worship your body. Come here and let your prince worship every inch and imperfection of your body and soul."

"Yes, my love," You reply, straddling Helia.

Your beloved prince traces every part of your body with his hand and circles the beauty, birth, and stretch marks. He kisses your clavicle, breasts, armpits, every body part on the way down to your pussy. When he finally reaches your clothed sex, Helia kisses it. 

"Helia, I'm-"

"A virgin? I know. But that doesn't matter because I would've loved you even if you weren't. I love everything about you. Your stretch marks, your body hair, even your scars."

Helia gently takes off your underwear and spreads your legs. He deeply kisses the entrance of your pussy, and he inhales the scent of it. His tongue enters your vagina, and your body can't help but react. Your back arches and your hands grip the stone steps. As Helia eats you out, your hips buck into his face. Helia speeds up his licking, and you suddenly start to feel weird.

"Helia, I feel strange!" You moan, sitting up.

"It's ok, my love, embrace that feeling," Helia replies, giving one last kiss to your pussy and kissing your inner thighs as you cum.

Helia begins to strip, and his clothes go flying off. His six-inch cock drips with precum, and you instantly want it in you.

"I'll be gentle. I know it's your first time. God, I can't wait to make love to you and give our kingdom an heir," Helia says, crawling towards you and lining up with your entrance.

You lift your legs to give him room, and he holds your hands. You wrap your legs around his waist, and he kisses you deeply. 

"I'm going to enter you. Tell me if there's any pain," Helia states, slowly inserting his dick in you.

You twitch in pain, and Helia's hands are on your face. He kisses you again, and you kiss him in return.

"I'm ready, Helia," You say, looking at his beautiful green eyes. "I'm ready for you."

Helia thrusts slowly, panting and moaning as if your body is sweet nectar. His steady rhythm of thrusting sends your body into ecstasy.

"Mm~ Helia," You moan, feeling Helia's cock move in your pussy and kisses on your neck.

"Are you enjoying me, my love?" Helia questions, speeding up the rhythm of his thrusts.

"Yes! Yes!" You exclaim, loving your high.

Your toes begin to twitch, and hearts appear in your and Helia's eyes. Helia's thrusts speed up, as do his kisses. Love bites cover your neck as Helia reaches his orgasm.

"I-I love you, my-my princess! I love you!" Helia stammers, climaxing and cumming into your pussy. His legs twitch as he orgasms.

"Oh-oo-ah-Helia!" You scream, your toes curling from the release and your pussy tightening around Helia's dick.

Helia kisses you, tears flowing from his eyes as he rides out his climax. When he's done, his sweaty body rests on yours.

"I love you. I-I love you so much, Y/N. I want to be with you forever. I need you," Helia rambles, resting his head on your chest.

"I know, my prince. I know," You pant, rubbing Helia's head.

~~~~~~~~~

After your passionate session with Prince Helia, your prince covers both of you with his cape. He's been kissing your skin since fucking you, holding you in his arms as if you would go away.

"I'll announce our engagement tomorrow, and we'll be married next week," Helia says, kissing your hand, knuckles, and fingers.

You fall asleep in your prince's arms, and he kisses you goodnight. 

"Goodnight, my darling."

[angellesword]

BAGGAGE | JJK (03)

Summary: Drowning in debt and blood, Jeon Jungkook knows he's better off alone, lest he brings people down with him.

But one drunken night changes everything.

In a blink of an eye, Jungkook found himself drowning not only in debt and blood, but also in dirty diapers and judgmental stares from you, a.k.a his long-lost love and the guardian of the son he didn't even know existed.

Genre and warnings: best friends to lovers, co-parenting, idiots in love, slow burn—really slow burn, mutual pining, angst, fluff, implied smut, kissing, minor character death, slight getting back together, drama, OC cusses excessively so watch out

Pairing: dad! Jungkook x adoptive mom!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

←Previous Chapter (02) | Next Chapter (04) →

****

Eight Years Ago; 2015

There was a small food cart on the outskirts of Incheon where two best friends frequent.

“Oi, shithead. You’ve been fucking staring at your food for twenty-two minutes already. What the fuck is wrong with you? ”

Jungkook whined, complaining about how creepy it was that his best friend knew how long he looked at his food and how you spit out three profanities in one sentence.

“Shut up.” your face turned red, embarrassed that your habit of knowing the exact time was showing. You developed this meticulousness back when you were writing your thesis paper. Time was precious. Thanks fuck you were done with it.

You graduated today. You and Jungkook were currently eating noodles to celebrate. Your best friend initially demanded that you cook his favorite crab spring roll, but your hands were tied. The graduation ceremony took forever to finish; your professors and friends even pulled you to celebrate after.

You were not a killjoy, but you didn’t want to end this day without seeing your best friend, so you quietly ditched the party and sought Jungkook’s company instead.

“You really came to see me. What a good girl you are.” Jungkook cooed when he saw you waiting at his doorstep. “ Here, your graduation gift.”

“HA!?” You were dumbfounded upon seeing his present. “You got me a choker?!”

“Of course! You are so busy these days. I got you a collar so you wouldn’t forget who you belong to.” Jungkook said in jest to conceal his selfishness. He wished you could spend more time with him, not just fleeting moments like eating spicy noodles in a small food cart, which he didn’t even like.

“Why the fuck did you order it if you don’t like spicy noodles!?” A vein popped into your head.

Jungkook groaned, “You know how much I hate upsetting a pretty lady.”

The ‘pretty lady’ Jungkook was referring to was an old lady called Louisa, the owner of the ADA--the food cart. This place was near your high school alma mater. You and Jungkook still went here despite graduating high school many years ago.

Jungkook usually ordered the shop’s best-seller crab spring rolls, which inspired you to make your version of said food. You remembered begging Louisa to teach you how to make it, but the lady couldn’t just give away her family’s recipe. She taught you the basics, and that was where you started until you got Jungkook’s approval.

Content with your version, Jungkook no longer ordered spring rolls whenever you two ate at ADA. He preferred their crab noodles, but only spicy foods were left now since you arrived late. Jungkook refused to change stalls because he adored Louisa.

“You’re really something.” You bought a can of milk for Jungkook to counter the spiciness of his noodles.

Jungkook pinched your cheeks in appreciation. He was happy that he managed to take a few bites and ignore the old man across the street who was singing out of tune.

Natsume was what the old man called himself. He had been doing his business across ADA for a long time. The only reason he wasn’t shooed away was that his performance wasn’t a song at all. He was making up random tunes while expressing what the ‘future’ of some people would be like.

In short, he was a fortune teller, and all his ‘predictions’ apparently came true.

Jungkook didn���t dare believe him. He got particularly annoyed at Natsume when he predicted his future and yours. He sang, “Fall out, fall out, you two will have a fallout. One so nasty it will break your hearts, with no hopes of returning ~.”

Jungkook still cringed every time he remembered that. He looked at you, ready to ridicule the fortune teller in front of you.

Who would have thought this was the start of the fortune teller’s prediction coming true? You shouldn’t have opened your mouth, but you did, saying, “Jungkook, what are your plans for the future?”

You were influenced by the main topic at the graduation party earlier. Everyone you knew was planning their future. You feared Jungkook wasn’t doing the same—that he wouldn’t belong.

“Haven’t I told you already? Jimin-hyung and I are committed to our business.”

Your jaw automatically ticked upon hearing Jimin’s name. You never really hated anyone, but Jimin might be the exception. Jimin was why Jungkook dropped out of university. He coaxed Jungkook into emptying his bank account for Bighit, their Business Process Outsourcing venture.

Now Jungkook was broke, only relying on his small interest in Port Mafia.

“How about school? Don’t you plan on going—”

“No.” Jungkook ruthlessly cut you off. The move didn’t deter you from speaking your mind, though.

“Why not? You only need to finish two semesters to graduate. It’s a pity you’re settling with just this.”

“Just what?” Jungkook raised his brow, irritation flaring up. He had a hunch of what you were implying.

Sure enough, you swallowed hard to cover your nervousness. “With this…I mean…dropouts are…” You struggled to find the right words to say.

Jungkook huffed, supplying the words for you. “…are what? Stupid? Lazy? Unambitious? Or a waste of time?”

“Oi, don’t put words into my mouth.” You hissed, getting pissed off too.

“But that’s what you wanted to say, right? You think lowly of me. You’re just like the rest of them.”

Jungkook heard all kinds of snide remarks when he dropped out of university. His adviser even called him a lost cause— that he would never be successful if he didn’t finish school.

  Bullshit.

Jungkook felt acid crawling up to his throat. “People like you think you’re above everyone just cause you have a degree, right? Arrogant.”

You lost your composure because of how hurtful he was being.

“So what if I’m arrogant!?” You dropped your chopsticks, no longer in the mood to eat. “I’ve earned a degree. I’m finished with my commitment, unlike you, who quit and only settled with faking smiles and licking the butt holes of people richer than you!”

“You--!” Jungkook clenched his fist. He always knew his best friend had a sharp mouth. You said things that made sense, but damn, they hurt. This wasn’t the first time you said something biting, but it was the first time you had hurt Jungkook’s feelings.

It was too late when you realized what you had said. Jungkook’s eyes were already red. You knew Jungkook hated fake pleasantries and wooing greedy businessmen, yet you used those things as a weapon to hurt him.

Truly a low blow.

“Screw you.” Jungkook spat before storming off.

Feeling defeated, you didn’t run after him, deciding to just go home alone and leave Jungkook to cool off.

But the following day, you found yourself standing in front of Jungkook’s apartment. The thing about you was you couldn’t bear fighting for real with your best friend. Bickering with him was fine, but you’d rather die than really hurt Jungkook.

You rang the doorbell. It was early in the morning. 4am. Every second that passed knowing you and Jungkook were not okay was like a stab in your heart.

Surely, Jungkook had calmed down. If he hadn’t, you would accept any kind of punishment. You just wanted to see him.

“Come on.” You pressed the doorbell once again. It never took Jungkook two rings to open the door for you, so you seriously considered breaking in.

But to your delight, the door swung open before you could do something stupid.

“What is it?” Stone cold voice hit you on the face.

A lot. You wanted to convey many things, such as apologizing and saying Jungkook had misunderstood your point. However, looking at your best friend’s still angry face left you no choice but to lower your eyes. Your heart felt like it was pricked by thousands of needles.

You knew you were in the wrong. You could only raise the paper bag you were holding.

“I made crab spring rolls. Do you want them?”

“What makes you think I want them?” Jungkook crossed his arms, which caused you to swallow hard.

You bit your lip too, looking at Jungkook despite your guilt. “You’re right, you might not want them anymore, but I can only bring this hoping you’d accept my apology and also...also to—”

You weren’t planning to bring this up while still outside Jungkook’s home, but you couldn’t bear to look at his angry face anymore.

You voiced out your trump card. Your last resort. “—to ask you if you’re willing to guide me on investing at Bighit?”

As expected, Jungkook was shocked. His lips parted wide. “Why? You don’t mind licking butt holes with me?”

“Oh, for Fuck’s sake!” You pushed the paper bag into Jungkook’s chest. “I was wrong, okay? I’m an arrogant devil. ”

You craned your neck, purposely showing off the choker adorning your neck.

Fire danced in Jungkook’s eyes. He lowered the paper bag to cover the bulge in his sweatpants.

Fucking hell, you’re so hot. Jungkook scolded himself, forced to contour his expression to neutral.

“Then what are you waiting for? Come in.”

Needless to say, you left Jungkook’s apartment feeling grateful that you had a choker to cover some obvious bite marks.

Present, 2023:

“Pwetty lady! Spring yoll! Bin-bin! Want!” A certain someone was banging the top of ADA’s table, almost as if he couldn’t wait for even one more second.

“Hey, kiddo. You already ate seven pieces.” You folded your arms across your chest, your brows furrowing at the small child sitting before you.

The said the child pouted his lips, his eyes losing their sparks.

Jungkook’s sparkling eyes were still vivid in your mind, probably because you had just finished reminiscing about what had happened five years ago. As a result, you couldn’t help but associate this kid with your former best friend.

You always thought that Jungkook’s eyes could replace the stars. It was your weakness. Those eyes made you want to dig your heart out and give it to Jungkook for free. The universe knew about this, so why must you suffer it the second time?

Why did Soobin, the kid in front of you, have to have the same sparkly eyes as Jungkook?

“Spring roll! Want!” They even had the same favorite food.

You scoffed. Like father like son, huh?

“A brat dares to make demands when he can’t pronounce the words right? Spring yoll, my ass.” You mocked the kid.

Soobin ignored you. He continued banging on the table.

“Spring yoll! Bin-bin! Want! Spring yoll!”

“Okay, fine. I’ll buy you more. Just you wait, young master.” You playfully rolled your eyes, giving in to the request of your adoptive son.

“Is it that good?” You took one piece of spring roll. It had been many years since you last tasted this. Back then, you’d rather have Jungkook eat them all.

“Good! Very good!” Soobin stuffed another piece inside his mouth, clearly enjoying it.

The kid was right. The crab spring roll was delicious. It tasted the same way it did five years ago. You unconsciously gripped your phone, fixing your gaze on the screen as if waiting for a New Year’s miracle.

But it never came.

Last night, you met up with Jungkook, hoping to talk to him. Unexpectedly, Jungkook was drunk.

Now that he was sober, you thought he would call.

What wishful thinking.

“But nothing’s changed.” You thought to yourself as you looked around the place. ADA was still open for business; its famous spring rolls were still loved by many. Even Natsume was still singing across the street. The only difference was that you couldn’t hear the old man singing.

ADA expanded its business. They now had alfresco dining. You chose to eat inside the restaurant, afraid Soobin would catch a cold.

Everything stayed the same except for people. Back then, you went to ADA with your best friend. Years later, you went to ADA with your former best friend’s kid.

You could only swallow the bitterness down your stomach.

“Full! Wanna go home! Sleep!” Soobin said after eating the last piece of spring roll.

You hummed, “We’ll go home in a while. Count one to one hundred first.”

Soobin threw dirty looks at you as if to say, “This young master doesn’t know how to count!” You laughed a little. Of course, he couldn’t count up to a hundred yet. He was still so young.

So young.

But someone had already missed a few years of Soobin’s life.

You looked at your phone again.

Still no call.

“Alright, Bin-bin. Let’s go home.”

At last, you and your son left the food shop. As you two walked out, the horrible singing voice of the fortune teller reached your ears.

His lyrics were as nasty as before. Soobin covered his ears in annoyance, asking you to walk faster as he didn’t want to hear Natsume sing:

ring, ring, ring

the phone rings

the boy saw black

and the girl saw red

ring, ring, ring

the phone rings

how cruel it is

to have you waiting

for someone who can’t

 even

breathe.

****

←Previous Chapter (02) | Next Chapter (04) →

A/N: comments motivate me to write. leave some if you can ~~ ❤️

[iaure]

I love your yandere godwyn hc I just want to share some brainrot that I have so after godwyn death he become prince of death right but it's not the end of it he's love, obsession and devotion for reader was so strong even after his supposed death , the corpse tremendously taint the root of erdtree almost reaching all the land in between. This tainting can be seen among the death and living creature shown by the deathroot and the face of the prince of death in their body once it's visible enough his subconscious started to control all this being like a zombie hunting, searching hungrily , desperately but for who? It's his darling of course Tldr : godwyn was too much of a simple for reader even in death his still find a way to be together with you Also can you imagines godwyn using the death crab and basilisk to give reader some shiny peble or beautiful flower or controlling the skeleton undead to protect reader if one of them is destroyed he'll just use another undead to protect you the firstborn beloved

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ahh! the dedication!

this in fact reminded me i did not speak on what would happen of his darling, and after godwyn's death, and this offers me quite the opportunity.

godwyn using the undead to find his love once more is a beautiful idea. imagine...

simply wandering the wilds. the Lands Between have fallen so viciously, and nothing is safe. there is a strange hunter after you, D, for reasons you can't quite understand. where are the demigods that loved you so dear? where is godwyn? that golden sun? he was one of the few demigods that was not so twisted, so cruel. where is he? did he not swear to protect you, the last thing that was good and kind in the Lands Between, not torn by politics and divine loyalties?

but he was gone.

instead, you find strange hints. Creatures that go scuttling after you. Strange little crabs that would ordinarily bat around foolish Tarnished, but instead trail behind every step you make, with a half-familiar face upon their backs. when the strange hunter finds you, undead rip themselves from the earth and pry at his armour until he's overwhelmed. then, they regard you so gently. one reaches for your hair, to tuck it behind your ear. the other checks your arm for injury.

you are beloved by death, and it's not for some time that you find out why.

fia finds you. she revels in you. you may not be guided by grace, but she drags you to the Roundtable Hold, practically worshipping you. you, death's lover, what she so desperately has been trying to find. though she'd be honoured to bear Godwyn's Death-Mending rune, she knows he'd be so much gladder to have his beloved bear it. so she explains, the murder, the taint Ranni left.

and so, it becomes up to you. godwyn swears the rune will not kill you, not like it would any lesser Tarnished. you would be his lover as the Mist consumes, until the stars themselves burn out. what a lovely choice to make.

[whyse7vn]

SEVEN -

[ ot7 x reader ]

sevendaysafreak

8 participants - 8 online

———————————

tae: we are watching jungkook slowly become alpha

namjoon: can you be normal today

jk: do you really mean that bro…

tae: with all my heart..

oh my god i’m tearing up

this is what being a real man is about

jimin: begging for pussy??

jk: I DID NOT BEG??

hobi: you harassed that poor woman for a whole week

yoongi: all for a hand hold

y/n: crazy!

tae: okay??

but it was literally real as fuck so does it matter??

jimin: it was real fucking sad

jin: personally if i was her i would of called the police like sexual harassment hello???

yoongi: right

namjoon: it was a great song jungkook

jk: > //// <

i’m blushing

that was me blushing

and i giggled a little

smiling rn

hehehehehe

namjoon: a thank you would of done it

jk: thank u >.<

jimin: she should of punched him

jin: was there need for an explicit version like??

we got the point the first time

i didn’t need to hear how horny you were for a second time

hobi: he just wanted to swear

tae: no he’s just real as fuck you wouldn’t get it

jk: real as fuck

yoongi: ig it was real as fuck for jungkook

he begs for pussy on a daily

jk: proof?

hobi: by bts

y/n: i’ll leak our dms

jk: DON’T DON’T DON’T

i’m sowyy 😣

jimin: i’m gonna punch him

hobi: fucking seven days a week doesn’t seem right

is that not how you get an std?

jk: no?

yoongi: is that not when you fuck multiple people?

y/n: you fuck multiple people jk?

jk: NO?????

jimin: why is ur no a question

hobi: suspicious

jin: jungkook has crabs

tae: that’s a real man disease

y/n: that’s gross

jk: i’m real

jimin: real itchy

namjoon: can we not talk about stds pls

y/n: i bet jay park has a couple of those

jk: ???

jimin: REALLLL

jin: that’s why him and jk are friends bonded over the burn

jk: i’m not his friend anymore

y/n: character development okay!!!

yoongi: was that bcs he stole from you?

jk: stop talking to me rn

jimin: OMG GUYS

yk i had the worst dream ever yesterday tae was in it

tae: and?

jimin: wdym and

tae: i hope you die

namjoon: pls don’t wish death upon people tae

jimin: yeah tae

tae: all of you can fucking die idc!!!

not jungkook tho he real as fuck

y/n: say real as fuck one more time and i’ll snap ur neck

jin: hot asf

yoongi: ew?

tae: nobody wants to see us winning jk it’s sad 😞

jk: i’m sobbing 💔💔😞😞💔💔

tae: they literally told us to kill ourselves

namjoon: literally no one said that

jimin: in fact YOU said you hope i die

jk: he could of meant by natural causes

tae: right i would never tell you to kill ur self that’s sick and evil

yoongi: kys

tae: ur not going to heaven

yoongi: aw man 🙁

hobi: what if we put tae in the electric chair

jin: what if we put tae and jungkook in the electric chair

jk: wtf ☹️

tae: i could easily survive the electric chair it would feel good to me actually

y/n: i’ve been telling you guys for years we need to lock them up

do you actually read the bullshit they say on a daily it’s actually insane they need help

like professional help

jk: i didn’t even say anything

jimin: you don’t need to

we just know

namjoon: i agree

we could send them to a camp

or something

tae: why are you talking about us like we’re not RIGHT here

jungkook get them omg

jk: i can’t go to camp

too much raw air exposure is bad for my skin

and i have a dentist appointment soon

yoongi: raw air?

jin: how soon is ur appointment?

jk: so soon that i can’t go to camp

tae: JUNGKOOK STAND UR GROUND

WE WILL NOT BE PUSHED AROUND

REPEAT AFTER ME

WE WILL NOT BE PUSHED AROUND

namjoon: tae shut up

y/n: right

tae: i liked it better when you guys just ignored me in this gc

now all you do is be mean

jimin: maybe u deserve it

*you definitely deserve it

hobi: stop talking then idk

yoongi: i will gladly ignore you again

jk: i love you tae i’ll listen to you talk

jin: jungkook the biggest dick rider ever

tae: he’s my little dick rider 🥰😍❤️

hobi: yeah definitely stop talking

namjoon: okay!

y/n: oh my god

jimin: ???

yoongi: um

jin: this is what seven was really about

jk: bro..

tae: lol

jimin: you're really gorgeous i would deadass fight 3 mountain lions in a mcdonald's handicap bathroom stall with my hands tied behind my back and my only weapon is a shake weight glued to my forehead just to get a chance to get to know you and take u out tbh

jin: nurse he’s out again

jimin: wrong chat lol

tae: and you wanna put ME in the electric chair

ur all out of ur minds

namjoon: you were gonna send that to someone????

jimin: is it bad?

y/n: so unbelievably bad

jk: blushing

yoongi: wow

tae: yikes

hobi: bts never beating the rizzless allegations

y/n: who were you gonna send that too?

jk: was it me?

yoongi: that was flirting?

jin: probably the notes app

jimin: no one

jin: told you

notes app.

jk: it wasn’t me?

tae: i’ll be nice and give you some better lines jimin dw

jimin: the only lines you have are of coke

tae: nvm fuck you stay bitchless

namjoon: leave jimin alone

jimin: right leave me alone

namjoon: he’ll open up in his own time

jimin: i fucking won’t

you guys deserve to know NOTHING about me

yoongi: okay don’t care kys

jimin: i have a crush

jin: i’m hungry

hobi: is this the same crush you talked about like 4 weeks ago??

jk: on me?

sorry jimin i’m already in love with someone else

yoongi: didn’t ask

jk: i won’t tell you who it is it’s a secret

namjoon: a secret from who??

jk: what does that mean…

namjoon: don’t we all know…

jin: i SAID i’m hungry

jimin: all you do is eat like omg??

get a job or something??????

jin: i have a job

i serve face for a living i would suggest you look into it since you have so much free time to BULLY and HARASS others but with a face like urs idk if you’ll make the cut

y/n: wow

jimin: i’m not reading all that 💀

y/n: never use that emoji again ew

jimin: 💀💀💀💀💀

y/n: this is why whoever ur trying to rizz up probably thinks ur a loser

yoongi: is it taemin again?

tae: ew you run back to taemin every 4 months it’s kinda embarrassing

jimin: taehyung you actually need to shut ur mouth

breathing the same air as you is embarrassing

and at least i have someone to run back to you are actually genuinely bitchless

tae: u are taemin’s bitch

so technically ur as bitchless

yoongi: gay

jk: don’t be a homocrome

namjoon: stop talking

jimin: it’s not even taemin so shut the hell up

i’m not talking about this anymore

moving on

hobi: what is your mbti guys

jk: physical touch

namjoon: that wasn’t the question

y/n: just say ur horny and go omg

jin: don’t

seven was actually enough

i will hear NO more about jungkooks sex life

everything i have learnt has been without my consent

my lawyers will be in touch

jk: my lawyers are ur lawyers

jin: not anymore

jk: omg…

hobi: oh my oh my god

namjoon: jin stop facetiming me i’m not answering

jin: pls joon pleaseeeeeeeeeeeee

namjoon: i’m not sitting there for you to look at urself in the camera for an hour

i have things to do

jimin: that sounds like very jobless behaviour to me tbh

jin: you can’t be ugly and jealous pls pick a struggle

tae: and rizzless

hobi: i know ur not talking…

tae: ????

hobi: tae i need you to do some self reflection

tae: okay?

i’m hot as fuck

cool as fuck

and real as fuck

i feel well reflected ty for suggesting that hoseok

y/n: i told you i’m gonna snap ur neck if you said that again

start running

jin: coming to watch 🥰

[naffeclipse]

Finished your latest chapter, and I was at rge ended if my seat from beginning to end. Amazing!

And at the end of the chapter I thought of an inquiry:

What if y/n is a hunter/fisherman instead of a photographer? How would they have met, and what would the dynamics be like? Would they bring each other kills to give to the other to show off? Or in Eclipse's case, courting gifts? Still would figure y/n wouldn't realize what Eclipse is actually doing.

Oh, man, I just flashbacked to Fisher Y/N from Deep Waves but for an AP fisher? They'd be a bit disgruntled and grumpy. Very hard working, set on the task and won't stop until it's done. They've got a shell that rivals crabs. Very gruff but has a heart hidden somewhere under all those brusque layers.

Of course, you're spooked when Eclipse pops his head up (he's a lot more terrifying, not trusting humans on their boats with their harpoons.) Still, once he sees that you're alone and also, well, pretty, he tones it back a bit to actually talk to you while still dangling you halfway off your boat above the icy cold of the sea. You manage to yell at the siren to put you back. While Eclipse does so, he promises to bring you fine fish, the best of the best. You wave him off like "Yeah, yeah, as long as you don't ruin my nets and don't kill me."

The next day, he's got a fat catch. You thought you got rid of him, but like a stray cat that's been fed once, he's back. If he can chat, he can help you push the nets onto your boat so the fish don't flop out and get away. You might pick one cod out (the best one but you would rather die before admitting so) and toss it to Eclipse for his lunch, as thanks, or something like that. Eclipse would beam at the exchange of gifts so soon but you're too busy trying to not slip on the half-frozen, half-wet deck to notice.

You know sirens are bad news, but you have the mindset of 'Eclipse hasn't killed me yet, and there's work to be done, so I better hop to it.' That kind of attitude, however, is what gets you into Eclipse's mandated cuddle sessions as he decides you've been working too long and require a break. Guess who is getting yanked across the deck, forcibly cradled, and persuaded to take a twenty-minute break by a large, touchy siren? You, of course!

It's unusual to endure this kind of attention (and maybe you thought no one would touch you like this, make you feel like you're not just a ghost on the sea.) You put your shoulder to the wheel and get the catch while navigating Eclipse's hands of avarice.

You learn quickly that there's no use trying to get out of his arms once he has you. You also learn that he likes seals, but you try to catch squid and even, once or twice, small sharks for him to snatch on. He returns the favor with a bounty of fish and even guides you to better fishing spots. He's always eager to hand you the fish he catches to you personally. You don't think too much of it when you take it in your gloved hands and his grin widens. (You think he looks infatuated whenever you stumble upon an old seashell or half-plucked feathers or shiny, chipped scales and figure he might think it's pretty, but you don't take it to heart—he probably just likes trinkets.)

One day, when the sea is calm and the fish are nowhere to be found, Eclipse decides you are due for a break. You both lounge on the deck of your smelly boat. You don't even push away Eclipse's hands while precious work minutes slip by, resting your head on his chest to his great pleasure. Eclipse manages to coax a few confesses from your lips with a few slippery musical notes in his voice. You really don't know why you start rambling like this, like a fool. You tell him you don't have anybody, but nobody has you. Sometimes, you don't feel like a person because the only time you talk to another human being is when business over the fish is conducted. You're so used to not having anyone to talk to that when you talk to Eclipse, your voice becomes hoarse and dry, but you don't mind. You don't mind at all, lately.

He tells you in that way of his that is as true as the sun and moon that he has you. You don't believe him, but you pull out a little... gift you've been quietly crafting for the past while you've known him.

Now is as good as ever to give him a simple piece of jewelry you made with a cord and yet another seashell that's so old and pale pink that no one will notice or care for it, but he takes it from you with awe. He ties it around his wrist and shows you how pretty it looks against his black and white markings. He says you need to strengthen your voice. You need to talk to him more. He will listen, and he will listen when you sing, too. The mere thought of you singing of all things jars you enough to finally pull you out of this fancy and get you back on your feet, scouring the sea for fish to catch.

Eclipse is still wearing the seashell when he drops back into the water, and he doesn't let you out of his sights on the sea. You're left to wonder if you're a fool for giving a siren a gift or for feeling pleased that he wears it so proudly.

[celtigxr]

The Pink Dread (Master List) - - - - - ch. viii: Still Falling for You

Chapter Summary: Incapable of finding sleep, both Valeana and Aemond seek refuge in the sanctuary of the library, together. Alone.

Word: 3751

Sneak Peak: “Is this your way of forgiving me, Lady Valeana?”

Warnings: +18/MDNI. Masturbation, P+V sex, Smut. Descriptive anxiety attack. PTSD flashbacks.

T H E  G R E E N S 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Aemond was a black and silver mass of fury and rage as he left the training yard. He made a beeline towards the stables so that he could exit King’s Landing and find Vhagar, wanting to put as much distance between himself and Valeana and Aegon as possible. He didn’t trust himself in the castle where he could bump into someone that could set him off. The Keep crawled with crabs. 

But before he was even able to get to the stables, Criston had reached him shortly after he exited. His firm hand clutched the side of shoulder to stop Aemond’s long and fast stride. 

“My prince–” Cole cut himself short when Aemond whirled on him, eye filled with violet fire. The knight let his arm drop to his side and took a step back, but otherwise did not move. “Do not let him get under your skin. Your brother only seeks to provoke you. You let him and he wins.”

Aemond’s nostrils flared, “He did not provoke me.” His words were forced through his teeth.

Cole tilted his head, not believing him, “You lost yourself the moment the two of you locked swords. I saw him whisper something to you, what was it?”

Aemond’s jaw was tight, and his lips were a thin line. His eye flickered down from Cole’s face to a vacant spot over his shoulder. 

“Shall I describe it to you? Her delicious, untouched cunny–”

He shut his eye tightly, trying to rid the image of what Aegon was alluding to; what he implied he had done. He wished to believe that Valeana had far more dignity for herself than the weak-willed female servants that Aegon lured to his bed. However, he did not recognize this Valeana Celtigar – she was a different person. 

“He was speaking immorally of a lady of court,” Aemond surprised himself by the truth of his words, although vague. Alas, He did not think Cole was of a lesser mind to not know who he was referring to anyway.

Before the knight could prod onto why that bothered him so, Aemond continued. “I grow weary of my brother’s depravities. He seeks to dishonour not only himself but this entire family. Should he–” He cut himself off, eye flickering around the corridor they found themselves in. When satisfied that they were alone, he took a step closer to Cole, his voice lowered. 

“Should there be a shift of succession upon my father’s death, Aegon’s reputation will only bolster my half-sister’s claim and make us look like fools.”

Criston kept his opinion on the matter to himself. Aegon wouldn’t be first nor the last whoremonger that was crowned, and that had never given the people a reason to question whether or not they deserved the title of King. He doubted Aegon would for that reason alone, should he usurp his sister’s crown. With that knowledge, Cole could see Aemond grasping on straws. 

“Do not worry about your brother’s reputation, my Prince,” the knight finally spoke. “Worry only of your own mind and what you intend to do with it. It is the sharpest and most lethal weapon on your person. Use it to protect your heart, Aemond, because the moment you let someone commandeer that, they can use it against you.” 

Aemond stared at him in quiet contemplation. There was something behind his words and his dark eyes that the prince could detect, but not make out. Cole spoke as if he was speaking to himself, almost like advice he would have given to his sons so they would not make the same mistake he had done. 

“Do not worry, Cole,” Aemond tilted his head back. He still simmered on the surface, but the inferno in his chest reigned in like a claimed dragon. “I never had any intention of letting anyone close. Not even my own family.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Aemond was with Vhagar for over a day. When he returned to the Keep, it was the hour of the bat. By the time he instructed two servants to draw him a bath, and then got to his chambers to undress, it was the hour of the eel. 

The searing heat of the water burned off the sweat and grime that coated his body. He dunked into the water to wash out the sand and filth from his hair; he had spent the previous night asleep on a secluded beach east of King’s Landing, on the coast of the Narrow Sea just outside the Gullet. The morning after he had found crabs to boil in a stone basin he put over a fire. The screeching of the little creatures eased his mind; the symbolism wasn’t lost on him either. It was cathartic. 

But now in the Keep, boiling in his own basin, his mind wandered to crabs that still live. Namely one with hair as fair as his and eyes as green as wildfire. 

“Her delicious, untouched cunny–”

Aemond growled at the intrusive voice of his brother. He fisted the side of the tub before running his fingers over his temples and down to his chin with his other hand. Then, Aemond shut his eye and leaned his head back, trying to will himself to think of anyone else. One of Helaena’s attractive handmaids, the one with the long legs, hair as dark as a raven, and almond shaped eyes. He’s never had her, but he could. The way she stared at him with intrigue and awe, it was quite obvious that she desired him. 

Heat pooled at his pelvis, and his hand went under the water to inspect. Aemond’s lips parted once his palm met the hardening muscle between his thighs. A small sigh escaped at the first stroke and then his imagination took flight.

He imagined the maid coming into his bedchambers and finding him in the bath. He imagined her hands on his shoulders and chest as she cleans the remnants of battle off his body. Then he imagined her frumpy maids gown drop from her own before she slowly descended into the water. 

Then he was reminded of crabs in boiling water again. And when he looked at her, her hair brightened to a white-gold, and her almond eyes widened into a pair of doe shaped peridot orbs with pupils blown wide. Aemond tried to fight back, forcing the image of the other woman back into his mind’s eye, but ultimately his cock won. 

Pleasure overtook all sense of intelligence for Aemond Targaryen. His imagination feverishly feeds his loins with thoughts of Valeana Celtigar. Her ample tits sleek with soap and water, and his hands grasping and pinching her pink nipples. Her thighs wrapped around his narrow hips, and her pouty lips trailing kisses along the column of his neck. And then how she’d arch her back when she speared herself on him. One of his hands upon a breast, and the other on her buttocks, both kneading the supple flesh with large fingers as she bopped slowly up and down his length. 

“Is this your way of forgiving me, Lady Valeana?”

With her voice lost in his mind, she only nodded like an eager whore, mouth a perfect O as she took his full length down to the hilt. 

He was so close. 

Aemond grabbed her hair and yanked her head back as he leaned forward. His hips jerked wildly under her, water splashing everywhere around the basin. 

“You are mine. You always have been, and you always will.”

“Then claim me now! Inside! Aemond… Please!” 

His arms encased her body tightly against his, and his nose buried in the crook of her neck with his teeth nipping the skin there. As he reached his physical peak, he imagined filling her womb with his seed, and claiming her for once and for all. Like how he was always meant to do. What he should have done if he wedded her more than half a decade ago.

Aemond tilted his head back against the tub with mouth hanging open, thick veins protruding under the tight skin of his neck, arms and hands as he stroked himself to completion. A long, satisfied groan escaped from parted lips as ropes of white seed clouded the dirty bath water. His entire body went limp after, his muscles relaxed, but his breathing laboured. The post-orgasm still clouded his mind, but it didn’t take long until he gained some clarity. 

His eye opened and he found himself looking up at the ceiling of an empty room. Aemond curled his bottom lip under his teeth, and flexed his fingers angrily as he raked them over his face. 

“Fuck!” He shouted as the self-loathing settled in. He was so pathetically weak.

T H E   R E D S

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Valeana and her sisters went to their bedchambers at the hour of the eel, like they so often do. Sharing a room with Shyla left little room for privacy, but the younger of the sisters fell asleep fast. Soon the room was filled with soft sighs and the rustling of blankets and furs as Valeana tossed and turned in her bed, trying to will herself into a slumber. 

It was at the hour of ghosts when she had given up on trying, and promptly got out of bed and snatched her burgundy robe after hastily strapping her prosthetic. Her mind was a cluster of thoughts, namely to questions she needed answered. The old book she had read the other day still haunted her curious mind, and she needed answers to the question that burned at the forefront. 

Did she have a Targaryen ancestor? Did the Targaryens ever marry a Celtigar? 

There had to be at least one with a lineage so long and old. The Targaryens, with all their desire to preserve their Valyrian dragon blood, had many children with each other, and only branched out to very few houses outside of their own. With the Velaryons being one of them, why hadn’t they married a Celtigar? 

There could be many reasons, Valeana surmised, as she contemplated a list of them on her way to the Royal Library. Celtigars weren’t so eager to preserve their pure blood; their ambitions stemmed from wealth and reputation. Valyrian blood is strong, and because of that, many generations of Celtigars still birthed children with fair hair and purple eyes, even though their ancestral features dwindled with every generation. As did their names with every Andal or First Man married into the family. 

Valeana was the first child to be given a Valyrian name in a couple generations, and the choice, surprisingly, was by her mother, a Lannister of all people. She had chosen the name prior to her birth, but her father wanted to call her Lynora. Val supposed that had her mother not died, she would have been called Lynora, but her father ended up honouring his late wife’s wishes and titled his first daughter Valeana. The story, she learned early in her youth, was that her mother had found the name in a book about the houses of Old Valyria. Lysa, though, had mispronounced it at the time. “Val-awna”, she said, when it was supposed to be “Val-ayna”. But when Barty corrected her, Lysa waved him off and said she liked her way better, and thus the variation stuck.

The Royal Library was empty, aside from the patrolling guard outside that merely acknowledged her with a nod. Maester Artos, who usually presided over it, was blessedly gone. Artos was as old as the books that lined the walls, and always treated her like a nuisance whenever she had dared ask for a book. He would pop the vein in his forehead had he known that she was in there without him present, pilfering books off of shelves at the dead of night. Books that he spent his entire life meticulously organizing and keeping clean of dust and oils from dirty fingers. 

The book in question wasn’t difficult to find. It was placed on a pedestal inside an alcove in the north chamber. It was large in dimensions, but not as thick as other tomes she had seen there. The binding was made of iron and leather, embossed with the sigil of the House of Targaryen. It was broader than her shoulders, and one of the heaviest things she had ever had to lift. But, Valeana was stronger than people gave her credit for. She heaved it up with her entire chest and then shuffled to the nearest table and did her best to gently lay it down with the back facing her. 

With a heavy exhale, Valeana fell into the chair and flipped the back cover and blank pages over to get to the latest entry. She was going to begin from the earliest entry, since it would be easy to skim through given her recent knowledge. 

“Visenya, Viserys, Aegon, bigoted from Princess Rhaenyra and her uncle Prince Daemon Targaryen… Silver of hair, and violet eyes,” Valeana read outloud, and pursed her lips. It had been a week since they had taken port, and they had yet to receive confirmation that the Princess and the Rogue Prince were coming. Then after learning about the possible fatal wound Lord Clorlys Velaryon suffered at the Stepping Stones, Valeana started to believe there was a distinct possibility that the King would not get his wish in reuniting the Valyrian houses. 

Valeana hadn’t been able to go to Laena Velaryon’s funeral all those years ago, but her father and stepmother went with Clement. While they had not witnessed what happened at Driftmark on that fateful night, Bartimos was made aware of it the morning after. Aemond had claimed Vhagar, and in a skirmish of just children, he had lost his eye for it. When Alicent did not receive the justice she wanted, she had attacked her step-daughter and former friend in a fit of maternal rage. 

Val wondered if her mother had been still alive, would she have the same rage when she saw what Aemond did to her? Would she reach for a knife and try to take Alicent’s leg in lieu of the Prince’s? 

From what she was told, Lysa Lannister had the demeanor of a contented lioness. Very little angered her; she was patient, listened intently to her husband and friends, and rarely talked in social settings. However, when she did, all listened at the table. Her father said that the only time he had witnessed Lysa’s anger was when Queen Aemma, her closest friend and mistress, had died on her birthing bed, and not long after, the sharks of the small council swarmed King Viserys about remarrying. The tipping point was when Prince Daemon had called the late princeling “Heir for a Day”. After the King had summoned his brother to the Throne Room to confront him about it, Lysa intercepted Daemon in the corridor outside. She slapped him with the back of her jewel adorned hand. then spat in his eye and called him a jealous blackguard with a tiny piece of coal for a heart. Allegedly she had gone to punch him, but a gold cloak had pulled her back with her kicking and screaming.

Valeana wagered her mother would have probably done a lot more to avenge her children. Probably commit treason. The thought of that made her smirk in amusement. 

When the door to the library was pushed open, she had barely gotten through the Old King’s long list of sires and grandsires, and the Targaryen bastards that were worth mentioning. Valeana jostled in her seat, getting ready to spew excuses for Maester Artos, but the person who walked in the door was much worse than the old man. 

It was Aemond. 

He looked equally as surprised to see her there, albeit briefly. Soon his face contorted into one of annoyance. 

“What are you doing here? It is prohibited to enter the library when the Maester is abed,” he looks about the library, seeing no other candlelight other than Valeana’s, confirming that she was, indeed, here alone.

“No-” she cleared her throat when it came out croaky. “No one stopped me. The doors were open.” 

“Hm,” from this distance she could see his lips thin, “Do you allow your guests to go where they please in your home during the hour of the owl over at Claw Isle?” 

Val’s cheeks turned red, though she thanked the darkness for shielding it from him, “Yes.” She lied. Truthfully, it would be strange if the positions were reversed and she found a guest she wasn’t overly fond of in their family’s library in the dead of night. But there was a fat chance she would admit that to him.

“I do not believe you,” he stood still before his eye flickered to the large book that sat on the table and then moved over to the empty podium it once sat. His jaw tightened as he strode over, “That is not a book to be removed from its place. It is not a book to be touched by common– anyone other than a Targaryen.”

Valeana bristled at his tone, but before she could give him a reasonable answer of: “how the hell am I supposed to know?” he slammed the heavy book shut in front of her, causing both the table and herself to jump in surprise. 

“I was reading that!” She stood up as he slid the tome across the table to his side and pulled it up to cradle it against his chest. 

He didn’t say anything as he lifted it with ease and brought it back to its podium. Aemond gently adjusted it to its center, and then inspected it, convinced she had damaged it somehow. 

It bothered her to be ignored, especially after so rudely snatching what she was reading, after all he has said and done. She was bothering no one, especially not him, yet her simple presence was enough to demean her. In her annoyed anger, she swiftly strode towards him, and without thought she reached out and grabbed his arm, repeating herself, “Aemond, I said I was reading–”

Once her hand grabbed his shoulder, his entire body jerked back. His other hand reached over to grab hers, only to shove it back into her, effectively thrusting her away. The shock of being pushed immediately brought back a riptide of memories, one after the other. It might’ve only been a second or less, but it felt like an eternity; it felt like her back was being passed through endless air and then surely be greeted by one sharp edged stair after another.

 Had she been an abled body woman, she would have balanced herself after a step back. Unfortunately, when she left her bedroom, she did not dress her leg properly, nor did she wear secured shoes. Her bad leg gave in to her weight when it found no security in the loose straps, and she slipped, landing flat on her back on the carpeted wooden floor. 

Valeana could feel the sting of tears behind her tightly shut lids. Her tailbone and shoulders were in the most pain, but luckily the soft carpet had absorbed the shock of it. Though nothing felt worse than her face, which burned and twitched as she fought back hard to control the sob that threatened to burst out of her throat. Even with eyes tightly closed, she could feel air on her good leg, which meant her robe and small clothes had left her legs bare, and the humiliating knowledge he could see everything made this all the worse. 

“Valeana–” 

Without so much as a hiccup, she rolled onto her knees and held onto her right thigh as she righted left leg carefully, yet swiftly. She refused to breathe through her mouth, afraid that the sounds of her sorrow would escape from her throat and echo an infinite amount of times in the grand expanse of the library. Valeana fled, at least as much as she could; the pain on her tailbone coupled with her loosened straps made her limp-sprint out of the library and down the corridor. 

She spared absolutely no glances over her shoulder. Her eyes casted onto the floor as she watched her mismatched steps on the stone tiles. It seemed, at some point, her shoe had slipped off, but she couldn’t remember when or where that happened. Her ears were ringing with white noise; if anyone were calling after her, be it a guard or a servant, she did not hear them. All she could hear was the sound of her inner child’s own blood curdling scream. Her left leg suddenly started to burn, a phantom pain shooting up her non existent calf. 

Valeana’s lips finally popped open, and something between a groan of agony and a sob escaped. Gasping, she faltered in her gait, and her eyes shut with a veil of tears that blurred her vision. Then she stumbled forward with a grasping hand at her left knee, chest and shoulders stuttering with each panicked gasp. 

“Valeana? Valeana?” Someone was holding her upright with masculine hands on her shoulders. “Hells, what’s wrong? What happened?” 

She allowed her weight to be pressed against the stranger’s chest as her own shook with sobs of anguish and phantom pains. His hands moved from her shoulders to her face, trying to urge her to look up at him. 

“Valeana, tell me what happened. Look at me,” His voice was familiar to her, but his identity remained unknown until the dew from her lids slipped down her reddened cheeks and her vision focused. Aegon’s wide purple eyes examined her face, full of concern and fear, two things she has never seen there before. 

“I hate him,” She finally spoke through gritted teeth. “I hate him, I hate him, I hate him!” 

His eyes searched hers, the creases in his forehead relaxed when he managed to piece the puzzle together with the little context she gave him. Aegon’s thumbs brushed away the tears from her cheeks and then pulled her to his chest. 

“Let’s get out of the hall,” He whispered after a moment. “My apartments are not far from here.” 

He pulled her arm over his shoulder, and slipped his under hers. Taking a brief glance down to her feet, he noticed her right foot was clad in a red velvet slipper, and the other a wooden one.

Note: This was an emotionally taxing chapter to write, so I hope it came out well. I had to channel a lot of personal experience into it. Also, I had to squish in Valeana's name pronunciation somehow XD. So there it is.

Tag: @queen-of-elves, @keylin1730, @anakilusmos, @weepingfashionwritingplaid, @sugutoad

( if you wish to be tagged for this story, just give me a reply! )

Please do not re post, redistribute or plagiarize my work. The only other place this story is posted on is ao3 under the same username.

[givemea-dam-break]

daughters of the evening

⭒⭒⭒⭒ in which luke’s descent from good may be found.

pairing: luke castellan x (fem) reader

a/n: hey guys!! first fic in a while and i know, i know, pjo book readers are disappointed in me… but i’m just a girl! i’m literally just a girl! please enjoy my brain baby i love her :) i love writing quests so much, so this was really nice to write for my first fic back on tumblr. i hope you guys enjoy! if anybody wants to be added to my pjo taglist, let me know!

warnings: canon typical violence, book spoilers, blood/injury description, rusty writing

words: 5.8K ⭒⭒⭒⭒

(y/n) couldn’t remember when the change in Luke became permanent.

She could remember the hints of something at the corners of his eyes, something that bit at the happiness that filled them, eating away at it like rot on wood. She could remember the slow decline in his respect for his father, respect that had barely been there for years, though was now bridging on outright disrespect.

She could remember the crux of it all, the very moment in which all of the little things began to coalesce into something ugly. A flash of claws, the deep scarlet of mortal blood followed by shimmering gold ichor. The horrible sound of screaming. Gleaming fruits of gold. Gorgeous, blooming green trees towering above them that concealed the violence below.

It was after the quest that Luke, her Luke, was never the same.

⭒⭒

“I don’t remember San Francisco looking like this.”

Luke’s lips curled into a smile. “You’ve never been to San Francisco.”

(y/n) rolled her eyes. “I’ve seen it in movies through which I have lived vicariously. It’s in one of the Indiana Jones’s, right? Looks different.”

“Those movies are from the eighties,” Luke said. “So, yeah, it’s going to look different.”

Charles Beckendorf, their questmate, heaved a sigh. “Do you guys ever stop?”

“Stop what?” (y/n) asked.

“Being annoying? Flirting? Whatever you want to call it.”

Her face felt awfully hot and she found herself unable to even look in Luke’s general direction. It was a comment that had been made many times in the past, one she was sure Luke was sick to death of, but she found herself yearning for comments like it. They meant that maybe she wasn’t dreaming up something between them.

Either way, she didn’t acknowledge it, rather stuffing her hand into her unzipped backpack and scrounging around until finally she found what she wanted. With a dramatic flair, she revealed three paper maps, each embellished with their names written in colourful pen at the top.

A moment of silence, then Luke said, “Why do we need a map each? Can’t we just share? And where did you even get those?”

“I got them back in Salt Lake City, before we happened upon that massive crab, you remember the one? All blue and slimy.” She pressed the maps into their hands. “There are multiple because knowing you both, you’ll lose them and I’m not buying any more. But, look! They’re colour-coded. Green for me because, duh, Demeter. Orange for Beckendorf, red for you. We can at least make this quest for some stupid apples interesting.”

Beckendorf raised a brow, giving her a strange look. “With glittery gel pen?”

“Glittery gel pen makes everything better,” she insisted. “I’m glad you acknowledge that. Now, come on. With all this talking you two have been doing, we don’t have much time to spare. You’re like a pair of gossiping grannies.”

The two shared a look over her head, one they thought she didn’t see, but it only made her hold back a laugh. They were a relatively upbeat group as it was, but she prided herself on keeping the mood light, especially when danger was looming. With the might of glittery gel pens, a travel-size game of Monopoly, and a cheesy puns book they had picked up off the side of the road, they would be unstoppable should their enemies need a good laugh.

It wasn’t that they weren’t capable of what was ahead of them that she felt the need to joke around, it was just her regular nerves. The three of them were experienced and powerful demigods, skilled fighters and strategists, the best of the best. Luke had his immense skill with a sword and the mind of a trickster; Beckendorf had the brains and strength of a blacksmith, and could sense a trap a mile away and disarm it in moments; (y/n) herself was a powerful daughter of Demeter and, though not to the standard of Luke, was also skilled with a sword.

They hadn’t faced much trouble before. They were a tried-and-tested trio, having been on multiple quests together in the past and finding themselves working well together. 

This time, it seemed like a match made by the Fates. A quest ordained by Hermes, Luke’s father, to retrieve the Apples of Immortality from the Garden of the Hesperides - gardens and plants being the domain of Demeter and, by extension, (y/n). And, no doubt, there would be many traps or the need for a strong mind, hence Beckendorf. He was a year or two younger than she and Luke, but had proved himself upon countless occasions. She trusted him with her life.

Almost a week now they’d been on this quest, and still she felt like a giddy child. Almost seventeen and, at her big age, she was holding back smiles and giggles befitting of a schoolgirl with a crush. Part of it was gratefulness that a demigod such as Luke had chosen her to join him on this quest, even after being friends for years and having gone on numerous quests together already. Part of it was simply that she was madly in love with the boy.

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, then, watching the way the afternoon sun gleamed on his face, setting his dark eyes alight with flame. There was a curious smile on his lips, one that concealed mischief and intelligence; one she had loved for as long as she could remember. His hair was messy after days of travelling and not bothering to fuss with it - she dreaded to think of what her own looked like, the only mirror she had being her sword - but there was something so extremely endearing about it. Wild curls that gave his lightly-freckled face even more life.

Their maps didn’t help their hunt for the Garden an awful lot. For what had to have been at least two hours, they stumbled around the city, turning this way and that, earning odd looks from strangers. 

“For being the son of the god of travellers,” (y/n) said, “you are horrendous at reading a map.”

Luke gave her a nudge with his elbow as he scanned the map. He was grinning. Her stomach was doing cartwheels. “Maps make sense enough, but I think these ones are out of date.”

“Maps don’t go out of date, stupid.”

Beckendorf was holding back a smile. “I think he’s right. I think our maps are too old.”

(y/n) glowered at them, plucking their maps from their hands. Fine. They didn’t deserve to hold maps graced with her glittery gel pens anyways.

“Well,” she said. “Unless either of you have any ideas, we’re going to be stuck wandering for hours. Come on, Luke. Use your magicky journey powers. They got us this far.”

His eyes shone, and her knees felt a little weak. She loved it when he looked at her like that, when she had said something funny. It was as though the heavens themselves had descended and flooded his face with light and beauty. She couldn’t look away.

“It’s a big garden,” he retorted. “Find the big garden, daughter of the mighty Demeter!”

She knew he meant it as a joke - the sarcasm was practically dripping from his voice - but there was something in his tone that she couldn’t identify. Something deeper than a simple sarcastic comment. This had been a pity quest, of sorts, she knew. Luke had been getting restless and his father had wanted to satiate him, but it wasn’t enough. He was displeased with the gods, to say the least.

But he kept a good lock on his expressions, on his words. She wouldn’t have suspected a thing had she not known him as well as she knew the feeling of grass beneath her feet.

Eventually, combining their powers and the single brain cell that seemed to be taken by Beckendorf, they found their way to the Mount Tamalpais State Park, which was not open to visitors now that the sun was setting.

They stared up at the distant mountain, the sloping greenland and towering trees that led towards it, and heaved a synonymous groan. Quests could never be even slightly easy, it seemed. Why would the gods let them head to a random park in the city when they could have them trespassing in a state park at night, lives in the hands of the monsters and animals alike that roamed the woods? The gods would rather have them arrested than have something be easy.

“You’re kidding, right?” Beckendorf said. “We don’t have to walk all that way?”

(y/n) frowned. She wished more than anything that they could just turn around and leave, a feeling she did not often get on quests. But something didn’t feel right. There was a twist in her gut, a deep intuition that told her something was going to go wrong.

But her gut was also pulling her towards the mountain. There was a power there, unlike any she had felt before, and she wanted to know what it was. 

“We’ll be fine,” she insisted, though she didn’t feel entirely sure herself.

She was the first to make the step towards their darkening fates. If she had known the outcome, she would have turned and fled immediately.

The three of them trudged up the path, flicking on torches when the sky grew darker and the ground in front of them too hard to see. It gave them an eerie glow, entirely unlike the warm glow of their weapons. All of their features were in stark contrast to the dark surroundings; Luke’s cheekbones, Beckendorf’s eyes, her brownbone. It was disconcerting, and it felt all too much like they were the lead characters in a ghost story.

She was considering turning back about halfway there. The tug in her gut was becoming stronger, almost unbearable, and her head was pounding, filled with the worry of the possible incidents that had not happened yet. 

The only thing that kept her going was Luke’s pinky finger wrapped around hers.

Maybe he felt her nerves, so acute that she feared her sinews and tendons and bones could snap at any moment. But Luke knew her. He had known her since they were barely teenagers. He knew her better than she knew herself: every habit she had; every face she made; every hint of a feeling before she knew it was coming. He had some deep understanding of her, one that would have made her feel vulnerable in any other situation with any other person. Luke was not any other person.

His pinky was wrapped around hers tightly, warmer than the rest of her body put together. It curled around hers just so, acknowledging her worry. His jacket sleeve brushed hers.

It wasn’t until they reached the Garden at the foot of the mountain that his hand wrapped around hers fully, encasing it entirely in warmth and comfort. His palms were calloused, fingers ribbed with light scars, but she could not imagine it any other way.

The Garden of the Hesperides was easily the most beautiful place she had ever seen and was likely the most beautiful place she would ever see. Stars hung above them in the night sky, glittering so brightly it was as though they could reach out and touch them with their outstretched fingers. Lush green grass coated the ground beneath their feet and beyond, speckled with flowers so bright they almost glowed in the dark. It was bristling with life, so full of it that (y/n) could feel it all deep in her bones.

But the source of the power lay further afield.

A tree, much taller than the rest, stood at the centre of the garden, boasting more golden apples than (y/n) could count. Its branches swayed in the faint breeze in mesmerising swoops, and the scent of fresh fruit laced with something that could only be described as addictive brushed over them. A faint mist swirled around the trunk of the tree, glittering slightly in the moonlight.

“Holy Hephaestus,” Beckendorf murmured, slack-jawed.

“That’s one big tree,” Luke said. 

“You certainly have a way with words,” (y/n) said.

His hand only squeezed hers in response. She could feel his heartbeat in his wrist. How was it so steady?

There was a shift in the wind, then, and a soft bite came into the air. Goosebumps prickled the skin of their arms, raising the hair there. She wasn’t sure if she was imagining it, but she swore she could hear the faintest lull of singing voices and could feel the weight of some large presence in the air. Nothing could be seen but the beautiful garden and the decadent tree in the centre.

“Luke Castellan,” said a soft voice. Luke visibly tensed, eyes narrowing at the usage of his surname. “(y/n) (l/n). Charles Beckendorf. We have been expecting you in our Garden for quite some time now.”

The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once. But, finally, after a few moments, the speaker emerged from the fine mist.

She didn’t look like much, appearing to be barely older than (y/n), but there was something about her surrounding aura that suggested she was much, much older. Dark, inky hair tumbled over narrow tawny shoulders, framing even darker eyes that shone with unknown magic. The woman seemed to blink slowly, as if bored or tired, and it looked as though she were merely floating over the ground rather than walking. It was hard to tell. Her Greek chiton covered her feet.

“We are the Hesperides,” she said, voice ever gentle, as four more women appeared, each almost identical in appearance. “Daughters of the Evening. Nymphs of the Sunset. Protectors of this Garden. What is your business here?”

There was a cockiness to Luke’s smile then, one that had (y/n) on edge. “If you’ve been expecting us, then surely you know our business.”

The lead Hesperide drew nearer, stopping a few feet away from their trio. Her sisters gathered at her sides, dark eyes sparkling with stars and cold curiosity and something overtly bitter. The demigods were clearly unwelcome here, but they intended to make a game of their quest.

(y/n)’s hand squeezed Luke’s in warning. He spared her a glance, her heart drawing still when his warm eyes met hers. His chin dipped slightly in a nod, and he gave her hand a squeeze before turning his attention back to the Hesperides.

“We’ve been sent here on a quest by my father Hermes,” Luke announced. His voice held more confidence than she felt. “We’re here to retrieve a golden apple.”

It was strange watching the Hesperides’ heads tilt in unison as if they were each an extension of the other. Voices lulled around them, soft and gentle, and the worry seeped from her very bones. Her hand fell from Luke’s. Something felt strangely at ease in her stomach despite their circumstances.

“You may try,” said the lead Hesperide. Her skin glimmered like marble in the moonlight. “Our dearest Ladon protects this tree with his life. He does not sleep. Every second of every day, he guards our gift from Gaea, the goddess Hera’s wedding gift. Do not think it will be easy to pass him.”

The Hesperides seemed to fade into the mist, then, their bodies becoming light and transparent as they slowly backed away until nothing was left but the faint singing swirling around them. The voices gave (y/n) a strange feeling, as though pulling her towards the tree.

“Who’s Ladon?” Beckendorf asked.

The three of them stood for a moment, watching the swirling mist.

“A dragon,” (y/n) said. “A big dragon.”

She could feel his presence, she realised. The heavy weight that had settled over them upon entering the Garden, it couldn’t be anything else. Even still, she could feel him through the ground, like an impending sense of death and doom. She’d had similar feelings before, an innate knowledge that the strawberry fields were close to wilting one year. Campers had called her crazy, but she knew. The earth knew.

And it knew now. She was horribly aware of the heaviness in her gut that surrounded the bright power of the apple tree. It could be nothing but Ladon.

“Any ideas, Luke?” she asked. “You’re our idea guy.”

He scoffed. “Since when? You’ve been dragging us around by our ears this entire quest.”

But he could see the nerves that she felt. He knew how strange this was for her, to feel so deeply worried about a quest. He knew something was wrong.

“I’ll get the apple,” he said, and his shoulders rose with confidence. His hand, the one that had held (y/n)’s moments ago, twitched just so. “I’m the fastest out of the three of us. You two, keep our friend distracted.”

There was a deep grumble at that moment, as if Ladon were making himself known. It shook the ground and the boughs of the tree trembled. Sweet-smelling apples tumbled into the mist.

“Wouldn’t it make more sense for me to get the apples?” (y/n) asked. “You brought along a daughter of Demeter for a reason.”

He smiled softly at her. “That’s not the reason I brought you along.”

And, before either she or Beckendorf could protest his stupidity or question his statement, Luke’s glowing sword materialised in his hand and he was running into the mist.

The mist spread apart as his feet made contact, and (y/n)’s heart dropped. Beckendorf, one of the bravest demigods she had ever met despite his age, had a tremor in his hands as he pulled free his sword.

Within the mist was the largest monster (y/n) had ever seen. It was wrapped around the tree in a serpentine-like way, scales glimmering in the moonlight like molten copper and bronze. Massive claws sunk into the dirt surrounding the tree, at least the length of her forearm and as wide as Beckendorf’s. Every breath it released shook the branches of the tree as though caught in a gale.

The most horrifying part: the dragon had a hundred heads.

She had read about Ladon, had familiarised herself with the myths surrounding the Hesperides. Days before the quest, she and Luke had sat down at the canoe lake, poring over old history books that told the tale of Heracles and his Twelve Labours, one of which was the very quest they were being made to repeat. Luke had made a joke of it back then, unhappy with the quest he had been given and disbelieving that what they faced would be much of a threat.

But Ladon was no joke. It was an entirely different thing seeing drawings of the dragon and seeing him in real life. His hundred heads slithered through the air like snakes on the water, luminous yellow eyes watching the demigods with piqued interest. 

Even Luke faltered.

A deep breath came from all two hundred of the dragon’s nostrils, washing over them in a hot, acidic wave. The smell alone was horrendous, like an old, decrepit sewer filled with rotting rats, and it had the hairs on her arms standing and her eyes burning. 

She was worried that she may never be able to move again, frozen in place by the sheer might of Ladon, but when Luke turned to look at her, blood flooded into her veins again. He was counting on her. She wouldn’t let him down.

Ladon expected a frontal assault. He was waiting for Luke to attack, watching like a predator on prey, but he did not expect the very tree he protected to act against him.

With a heave of energy, (y/n) stretched out her arm and watched as the tree’s trunk began to swell as if filling with liquid. Ladon’s serpentine body writhed around it, twisting as he moved to accommodate the growing tree. The branches above him shook, dipping towards the ground slowly. Too slowly.

The dragon seemed to realise what, or who, was causing the change, and snarled ferociously. It was at that moment that Beckendorf grabbed a ball of Celestial bronze from his belt and, with a strong arm and remarkably good aim, threw it at the beast.

An explosion of green ignited before them as the ball slammed into Ladon’s thick hide. The dragon roared, whether in pain or fury, and set its bright gaze on (y/n) and Beckendorf.

Fear coursed through her body. She could hardly breathe. The branches wavered, pausing the pursuit to the ground. Beckendorf launched another one of his Celestial bronze bombs.

A pity quest, that’s what this had been. But, maybe, it was more than that. Maybe this was Hermes’ punishment for Luke wanting more from his life. Maybe this was (y/n)’s consequence for falling so irrevocably in love with Luke - for feeling the way she did, she would have to follow him to impossible circumstances.

But none of them deserved it.

It was at that moment that Luke took his leap.

With speed befitting a child of Hermes, he leapt onto Ladon’s mighty body, feet finding purchase on his rough scales, and launched himself upwards towards the descending branches.

For a moment, there was hope. Even Heracles had not retrieved the apples by facing Ladon, but maybe Luke would. Perhaps Luke would succeed where Heracles had not. Pride swelled in her heart, coated her tongue like warm honey, and she almost smiled.

Copper-coloured claws flashed in the moonlight. A chorus of soft, harmonising voices swirled around them like mist.

Mistake, they sang. The boy has made a mistake.

There was a cry of pain so guttural that (y/n) felt it in her soul. Her feet were moving before she could truly comprehend what was happening. The grass tried to reach for her ankles, tried to stop her in her mission, but nothing could. Had a god stood before her, she would have found her way past them. Nothing could stop her, not even this dragon that caused such fear in her bones.

She reached Luke as Ladon wound around the tree tightly, snarling protectively. Something in the beast’s demeanour hinted at pain beneath the danger, and when she saw the gold blood pooling just a few feet away, she knew why.

A claw, one of Ladon’s, severed from the knuckle down lay strewn in the grass. The dragon hissed as Beckendorf snatched it up, hefting his sword as (y/n) pulled Luke away.

He was bleeding badly. A deep gash ran from the tip of his brow down to the corner of his  mouth, somehow missing his eye but cutting just above and below. His skin was already becoming dangerously pale. Her hands were covered in blood. His blood. She was going to be sick.

“Hey,” she murmured, gently laying his head on her lap. Her hands trembled as she reached into her bag. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”

Luke shuddered, eyes half-lidded and struggling to find something to focus on. “Are you -?”

“I’m fine,” she said. After a terrible moment, one that took far too long, she pulled free a small vial of nectar, wrapped tightly in old face-cloths to keep it from smashing in her bag. Her hands couldn’t stop shaking as she tried to unwrap it.

Beckendorf knelt beside her, claw at his side, and took the vial from her hands. She didn’t know how his hands could be so steady. She could hardly breathe. Not with Luke so injured, not with Ladon eyeing them hungrily.

He handed the vial back, and she propped Luke’s head up slightly. With a hiss of pain, she managed to open his mouth just enough to pour the small amount of nectar in. He swallowed with a struggle.

There was no telling how long it would take the nectar to work, but they couldn’t stay there under the watchful glare of Ladon, who looked ready to attack again. (y/n) took a trembling breath.

“Beckendorf,” she said, “are you able to carry him? At least until we can get out of this place. I can try - I can clean the wound when we’re safe.”

He nodded and hoisted Luke up into his arms, careful not to jostle his head too much.

She didn’t realise she had been crying until they stopped.

Beckendorf set Luke down on a soft patch of grass beyond the Garden, and (y/n) tucked her jacket underneath his head. The nectar seemed to be working, albeit slowly. Some colour was returning to his skin, but it was hard to see under all of the blood.

“You’re okay,” she murmured again, but she wasn’t sure who she was telling. She wiped her tears with the back of her hands.

She grabbed one of the face-cloths the vial of nectar had been wrapped in, soaking it in water from her water bottle, and slowly brought it to Luke’s face.

His eyes seemed to have some ability to focus now, watching her beneath a glaze of pain. It tore her soul in half to see him in pain, wincing as she gently dabbed the blood from his cheek. Her fingers were stained. His cheek was, too.

“I’m going to keep watch,” said Beckendorf. “Those Hesperides gave me a bad feeling.”

(y/n) nodded, watching for a moment as he trudged a few feet away, just out of earshot, but her focus soon returned to Luke. She tried not to think too much about how his hand was gripping her knee as she cleaned the rest of the blood.

“Is the nectar working?” she asked when she saw his eyes drooping. “What does it taste like?”

His gaze found hers, warm and cloudy. A pained smile fought its way onto his lips despite the slowly-healing scar on his cheek. She could see the skin trying to sew itself back together with the aid of the nectar.

“That smoothie you made a few months back with the - with the camp’s strawberries,” he uttered. “And whatever those green leaves were.”

She found herself smiling despite the red coating her hands. “Mint. And it was that good, huh? Last I checked, nectar for you tasted like that weird concoction of Coke and Sprite you liked so much.”

For a moment, his eyes grew distant before refocusing on her face. They flickered over her features as if seeing them for the first time. His hand felt awfully warm on her knee.

“Anything you make is better,” he said. 

“Is that so?” She brushed his hair back from his face softly, cleaning the last bits of blood.

His skin was still stitching itself back together, but the nectar seemed to have stopped the bleeding. Second by second, blood flooded back into his face, giving him the colour that seemed to have been leached from his skin.

He nodded, his smile seeming as though it pained him less. His hand slipped from her knee, coming up to wrap itself around hers. The cloth fell from her fingers and onto the grass. Her fingers were still wet, though in the dim light she couldn’t tell if it was from water or lingering blood. She didn’t have the stomach to find out.

“You said you didn’t bring me on this quest because of my mother,” she said cautiously. Her heart was pounding in her chest. “So why did you?”

A soft squeeze of her hand. “This wasn’t a quest I wanted to do without you,” he said. “I like having you by my side. You give me strength.”

She was sure he could feel her pulse beating rapidly in her fingers, but he didn’t say anything about it. He didn’t need to. It was entirely likely that he was able to read her mind, he knew her so well. And she was okay with that.

“You’re stupid, you know,” she said, but her voice wavered.

“Stupidly brave?” he suggested. “Stupidly handsome? Stupidly charming?”

“I’m supposed to be supporting you right now,” she grumbled. “Not the other way around.”

His cocky grin was back and her heart fluttered. “Which one is it?”

“Which what?”

“Stupidly brave, handsome, or charming?”

All three, she thought. All three and so much more.

“Stupidly stupid,” she decided. 

Her thumb grazed his cheekbone, the one without the scar, and a shiver ran through his body. His hand tightened on hers and his smile softened into something more personal. It was the kind of smile she would have leapt into Tartarus to ensure its permanence on his lips. Soft and kind and reserved just for her. If she'd been standing, her knees would have buckled.

“You give me strength, too,” she murmured.

A sliver of hair slipped in front of her eyes, and moments later, Luke’s free hand was there, gently brushing it away. His eyes sparkled. They seemed clearer now, less agonised.

The events of the last hour - gods, it had felt like much longer - came crashing back onto her at his touch, asphyxiating and terrifying. Overwhelming guilt filled her veins and arteries with terrible speed, sapping all the strength from her bones. Her fingers trembled once more.

“I’m sorry,” she said. Her throat felt suddenly raw. “If I’d done a better job distracting Ladon, maybe you wouldn’t be hurt.”

Luke’s eyes were dark for a moment, swirling with something she couldn’t identify, but they softened seconds later. His hand rested on her cheek, warm and comforting, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at his eyes now.

“This is not your fault,” he said, and his voice was remarkably strong. “This is the gods’ fault. It’s my father’s fault. But it is not your fault.”

She tried to believe him, truly she did, but looking at the fresh scar on his face, even having been almost entirely healed with nectar, had her heart heavy in her chest. 

He knew this. Gods, he knew her every thought. His hand slipped from hers, cupping her other cheek and tilting her head so that she would look at him properly. There was a flush to his cheeks now - good, it meant he was getting better. 

“My father did this,” he insisted. “You hear me? This was not you. And, gods, believe me when I say that I’m glad it was me that went for the apples and not you. I couldn’t live with myself if you got injured.”

But you did, she wanted to say - no, scream. How do I live with that?

“I’m okay,” he said softly, cautiously, as if talking to a child who had just woken from a nightmare. “I’m okay.”

His hand fell from her face, taking hers in its grip once more, and placed her fingers on the newly formed scar.

She jerked back, terrified that the sensation would cause him more pain, but he just gave her that smile again, the one that made her knees feel like jelly, and pressed her fingers to it once more. Already, the skin was raised and slightly twisted, accommodating for the injury. She could faintly feel his pulse beneath his skin, slow and infuriatingly steady.

“It doesn't hurt,” he promised. His voice was so reassuring that she could feel it in her bones, and she was half-convinced he was secretly a child of Aphrodite, blessed with charmspeak. “I’m okay because of you.”

Her throat was achy. “And Beckendorf.”

He gave a small laugh. “And Beckendorf. But mainly you. You’ve given me strength.”

It was then that the world itself seemed to stop. He was leaning upwards, bringing her face close to his, and his lips brushed hers so softly that she feared she may have been dreaming the entire encounter.

She could taste the faint remnants of metallic blood, though it was easily brushed aside. Luke’s lips were slightly wind-chapped but she found herself uncaring when they slotted perfectly against hers.

This kiss was something she had been waiting years for, and it was better than she could have ever dreamed. The feeling of his hands on her, his lips against hers, it was something that could not be replicated in a dream, like flying for the first time and feeling the clouds beneath your fingers.

It was addictive, more so than the stupid apples that had caused Luke such pain, and she found herself wanting more. It was an effort to pull away from him, but eventually, she did. Beckendorf was only a few feet away and she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. It would make for an awkward journey home.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” Luke murmured.

Finally, there was a smile tugging on her lips again. “You’ve no idea how long I’ve been waiting.”

It took another hour or so before Luke was well enough to get moving. The dark trails gave all of them a bad feeling, and (y/n) wasn’t able to shake the almost hypnotic choral voices of the Hesperides until they were out of the State Park. Luke was shaky on his feet for a little while but his strength was returning.

And with it came anger.

Not anger at (y/n) or Beckendorf, no. He still smiled at them as usual, fingers entwined with (y/n)’s so tightly it was as though he was afraid she would slip away. Jokes still slipped past his lips despite the events of the evening.

But he was filled with fiery rage. It was hidden, but (y/n) could read him like a book. She had seen the inklings of it throughout the previous days of their quest, had seen it more clearly while she was cleaning the blood from his face - this anger, though, was pure. Harder to mask.

He had already been furious with his quest, a detail he had tried to keep hidden from her. He hated the idea of repeating history and the fact that this quest was simply made to satiate him, to prevent him from growing restless at camp and questioning the authority of the gods.

This was a breaking point.

It became clearer the more time passed. As the days and weeks went by, he would hold her hand like a lifeline and kiss her so softly it felt as though she was dreaming, but the anger never left. It ate away at him, dimming his smiles and reducing any respect he had left for the gods until there was nothing left but a shadow of what had once been there.

The scar never faded. It became a reminder of what he believed to be the gods’ failure. His failure.

He was still her Luke. The Luke she had known and loved since she was thirteen. She was just terrified of what he might become.

[formerlycookierunauprompts]

OOO I have another one that came to me in a dream! Basically the kingdom yn lives in hosts a ball which anyone can attend and yn let's say they're a maid/Butler attends and shadow milk (I'm obsessed with him right now) asks them for a dance and as they're chatting while dancing the yn notices that shadow milk knows a bit more about them than he should and as the dancing goes on he becomes more dominant practically not letting yn step in their own two cookie feet! And as the music stops a dread suddenly dread enters the dance floor and the only thing yn remembers happening after that is shadow milk leaning down to their shoulder and whispering something before they passed out.

bestie you are literally tickling my silly brain right now, also i may have diverged from the prompt a bit and just made the thing a whole little fic instead of a prompt like I'm supposed to be doing.

Request Prompt #8 - 💓

Reader is fem btw, popping this one under a cut because it is LONG

.

" Princess- No, Reader Cookie. Do you even realize how foolish you're being right now?" Your best friend and private advisor warned as they followed you around your room. " You father explicitly forbade you from going to the ball tonight! if he recognizes you there then I fear you may never leave your room again!" " He can't just expect me to miss out on every important social event until he deems me 'worthy enough to be queen'!" You argue back, already grabbing your masquerade mask and dress. " Besides, my mask is enchanted! There's no way he'll know it's me." You said, holding up your supposedly enchanted mask. " I wasn't aware of how far you planned this... to even sneaking out to purchase a dress for the ball beforehand." Your advisor mumbled in an exasperated manner, you simply just nodded along with their words. Truthfully, you'd gotten the dress and mask as a secret gift upon your windowsill one day. you'd originally planned to sneak out as a waiter... but actually partaking in the festivities sounded a lot more fun. " Oh calm down Crab Claw Cookie," You giggled. " It'll all be fine, I'm still a queen-to-be no matter what my father says. I am his only child after all, and it's not like anyone will be marrying him anytime soon." You spoke with a dismissive wave of your hand, you could still feel Crab Claw Cookie's worried eyes upon you, but you'd be fine, right? Plus, there was that odd dream you had a few days ago. A strange, shadowy cookie had appeared in the darkness, offering to give you your freedom in exchange for what you valued most. You had accepted, not thinking much of it at the time, but now that you thought about it... the dress had appeared once you woke up. And then there was the fact he'd said that he'd come to collect the other part of the deal at a later date. You shook your head, you should just continue to get ready. You have a night of freedom to attend to!

-✢-

The ball was in full swing, and yet here you were sitting off to the side. Why weren't you on the dance floor dancing away with the other cookies? Simple, you were completely unprepared for this kind of event! Because of your father and his overbearing nature, he never allowed you to attend any social events when you were younger. You must have gotten so used to your isolation that you had no idea how to actually interact with real people...! Crab Claw Cookie's social interaction simulations paled in comparison to the real thing... And maybe you were scared of your father noticing and recognizing you in the crowd. In short, you were completely lost. " Oh?" You here a voice speak, and looking next to you you can see a Cookie in quite the fancy blue and black suit, his white and blue haired mostly combed back into a sophisticated style while some covered his left eye. The eye that was uncovered was a rather nice shade of blue, like the ocean illuminated by the light of the full moon, or perhaps a blue moon? The mysterious cookie smiled at you, and you took note that it was rather cat-like. " What's a lovely girl like you doing over here on your own? Shouldn't you be having fun and dancing like the rest of the cookies here?" He asked with a tilt of his head, the playful grin never leaving his face for a moment. You hesitated before you let out a sigh, deciding to air your grievances to the stranger. Because isn't everyone a stranger at a masquerade ball? And yet, there was something familiar about him... " It's just that... I've never had the chance to go to a proper ball before. And now that I'm here, I have no idea what to do..." " Is that so?" The cookie mused with a hum, soon extending his hand after a moment. " Well, why not come dance with me? I can show you the ropes if you don't know how~" He offered, his expectant gaze imploring you to take his hand. So, and almost without question, you place your hand in his. Letting him lead you to the dance floor. The waltz was pretty simple, the music changing to signify that the current song was meant to be waltzed to. You knew how to waltz, but you still let him take the lead despite the fact that you( if only slightly) were the taller of your pair. It wouldn't hurt to strike some quiet conversation, right?

" It's so... odd." You mutter, your soft words having caught the ear of the cookie you were dancing with. " Hm? What is?" He asked, staring up into your masked eyes. Something about his gaze felt as if he were searching your very soul... But that was just a weird feeling, it was nothing. " It's just that..." You look down at your feet, yet a subtle movement from your partner caused you to make eye contact with him once again. " Who are you? I feel like I've seen you somewhere before..." You mumbled to the amusement of the other. " My dear Little Star, are we not at a masquerade ball? We aren't supposed to know who the other attendees are." He said with a chuckle, leading you further into the dance. You felt like you've heard someone call you that before, but where? You aren't sure. Are you even dancing anymore? It feels more like you're being puppeteered. You took a quick glance around, you weren't sure if the people watching you were anything more than shadows. " Princess," your partner begins, and your attention snapped back to him almost instantly like a dog hearing their favorite toy squeak. " You do know that you should keep your eyes on your partner while you're dancing, right~?" He hummed with a light giggle, taking your hands in his own. The music has stopped, in fact, you weren't even sure when it had. The entire ballroom was blanketed in shadows, the people you saw no more than silhouettes painted with glowing blue eyes. You felt like you were dreaming, hell, even your eyelids felt heavy as you continued to sway to the command of your partner. Soon enough, you lost your footing, collapsing into the other cookie's arms as you struggled to stay conscious. You could hear the cookie let out a slow, almost villainous chuckle. " Oh princess~ I've come for your half of the bargain~" He purred into your ear, leaving that as the last thing you heard before passing out.

-✢-

" Sire! Terrible news!" A pair of castle knights hollered, interrupting the king's morning. Reader Cookie hadn't even bothered to come down for dinner the prior night, even though he ended the ball early just to make time for her. If she kept up this pettiness then she would never be fit for the role of queen. " Yes?" He gruffly spoke, " Get on with it. Has another rebel group formed to usurp my throne? Is it an escaped Prisoner? It doesn't matter, we can handle all of those things." He said with a dismissive wave of his hand. " You don't understand sire!" The other knight cut in, stepping in front of the first knight. " It's Reader Cookie, she's gone missing!" It was as if a fuse had gone off inside the king's head. " WHAT!?" He yelled, almost spitting out his coffee. " What are you standing around for? Find her immediately! Her misbehavior will not be tolerated in this kingdom!" He barked out the order, with the knights saluting him and immediately running off to get to work. He slumped back into his throne, Reader Cookie was well above the age to know that her behavior was vastly unfit to be queen. Then, he heard it, that witches forsaken giggle that slowly turned into a cackle. " My my! It seems like your little princess has run off, your majesty!" The voice the laughter belonged to said in a mocking tone, with a certain jester stepping out from the shadows. " What a shame, truly!" " Shadow Milk Cookie." The king hissed, glaring at the jester with searing hatred. " You should know that you, nor any of the other beasts, are not welcome in this or any other kingdom!" He hollered, pointing directly at the beast. " Oh, your coldness wounds my heart..." He sighed dramatically, putting a hand over wherever his heart was supposed to be. " But, if you're going to be so rude, then I might as well just... not tell you what's happened to Reader Cookie." He smiled smugly, knowing that the King was falling right into his trap. " You! What have you done to my daughter?!" The king roared with frustration, which only caused Shadow Milk to laugh even more. " I swear, if you've hurt her then-!" " Then what?" Shadow Milk said with a sickening grin. " What will you do, your majesty? You and I both know that you've cared more about your kingdom than you do her, you just want her back because she's the only blood heir to the throne." He cackled at the revelation, and the horror dawning upon the king's face. " But if you want to prove me wrong... Then give up your kingdom, and I'll make sure she's safely returned." He proposed, eyes glinting with delight as he saw the hesitation in the king's stance. Oh how he loved to watch as cookies tried to decipher whether he was telling them the truth or not, not a single one had managed to catch him in a lie before it was already far too late. Such are the perks of practically embodying deceit, he supposed. He turned on his heel, waving goodbye to the king. " I'll give you a day to think it over. Either give up your kingdom and have your daughter returned to you... Or fail her for the last time, and live with the guilt." He left without another word, fading back into the shadows.

[jungshookz]

y/n needs help with sunscreen and, uh, yoongi can definitely help out with that

➺ pairing; demon!yoongi x y/n 

➺ genre; ...:-) 

➺ wordcount; 1.5k 

»»————- ☀️ ————-««

“remind me again why we couldn’t just stay home today?” yoongi grunts, leaning back against the flimsy foldout chair and tilting his head back, squinting slightly as bright rays of white-hot sun seem to shoot directly into his eyes despite him wearing a pair of pretty solid sunglasses, “fucking hell, that’s bright. you need to do something about the sun. can’t you, like, fly up there and shove some clouds in front of it or something?” 

god, he hates the outdoors 

and he hates the heat

years of living on earth have really softened him because he would like nothing more than to go back home and blast the air-conditioner until the apartment becomes an icebox 

“aw, don’t be like that. i, personally, love summer,” jimin sighs, crossing one ankle over the other as he basks in the warmth of the beautiful, golden ball of butter hanging in the sky, “and humans love going to the beach during the summer season! we need to do things that they like now that we live with them. you need to humanize yourself-“ 

“first of all, you love everything, and second of all, we aren’t humans,” yoongi grunts, reaching over to adjust the umbrella so that he’s covered by more shade, “you could literally sprout wings out of your back if you wanted to, and i could set someone on fire right now if i wanted to. and right now, this heat is making me want to set everyone on fire- oh my god, this shitty umbrella isn’t budging- how far did jungkook stick it into the sand?!“ 

“NOOOOOO!” both jimin and yoongi look over when they hear jungkook whining, yoongi letting out a laugh of genuine joy when he realises that jungkook’s sandcastle just got completely washed away by a rogue wave

HAH

“oh, no!” jimin gasps, sitting up straight in his seat as if the destruction of jungkook’s sandcastle is the worst possible thing to happen in the entire course of humanity, “oh, gosh… we should help him rebuild his castle, it’s the only right thing to do… i feel awful-“ 

“awful? that wave did him a favour.” yoongi snorts, “his sandcastle was an ugly little clump of sand, anyway- and if he was smart, he shouldn’t have built it so close to the water-“

“aw, did jungkook’s castle get wrecked?!” yoongi turns his head slightly upon hearing your voice and he isn’t surprised to see a popsicle (or what’s left of a popsicle) in your hand, “i told him not to build it so close to the water but he refused to listen to me. he said he wanted it to be close to the water so the crabs would be able to live in it if they wanted to.” 

“yeah, i’m sure the crab real estate market is booming right now-“ yoongi rolls his eyes, “see, jimin? i’m not the only one around here who thinks that jungkook’s sandcastle location was stupid-”

“hey, i never said stupid-“ you drop to your knees on top of your beach towel next to yoongi as you slide the rest of the popsicle off the wooden stick and pop it into your mouth in one go, chomping down on the deliciously citrusy icy crystals, “i jusht said it wahs in a bad locashun-“ 

“yeah. a bad, stupid location-“ 

“well, i don’t know about you guys, but i’m gonna go help him!” jimin gets up from his seat, pulling his sunglasses down from the top of his head before shaking his head, “i feel bad, i can practically see the waves of disappointment radiating off of him and i just can’t help but-“

“yeah, yeah, we get it, you’re an angel-“ yoongi dismisses jimin with a flick of his wrist, his eyebrows raising slightly when he sees you peeling your top off to reveal the very cute bikini you have on underneath, “and i am the complete opposite, hello-“ he lowers his sunglasses onto the tip of his nose, shamelessly letting his eyes wander along the slope of your back and the curve of your perky bum as you get settled on your beach towel, “where’ve you been hiding this little number??” 

“i haven’t been hiding it anywhere, i just brought it out for the beach!” the corner of your mouth twitches in a smirk as you get comfortable on the soft, warm ground, folding your arms over each other and resting your cheek on top of them — the truth is you have been hiding this little number (it’s a slinky little two piece that matches the fiery orange of yoongi’s newly dyed hair) because you’ve been saving it for a nice beach day like this, “do you think you could help get my sunscreen from-“ 

“yes.” yoongi rips his sunglasses off his face and gets up from his seat immediately, leaning down to grab the bottle of sunscreen out of your bag,  “god, yes, i can help-“ his mouth goes dry when you reach behind yourself to undo the string of your top and he turns to bite his fist because all he wants to do right now is thank satan for linking him up with you 

he remembers he was gonna call in sick on that day, too, but thankfully he decided to get out of bed and actually go to work like the good, hardworking demon he is 

it’s only a second later that you feel yoongi straddling you gently, crotch pressed against your bum and- “oh- god, yoongi, a little warning would’ve  been nice-“ you laugh lightly when you feel a squirt of sunscreen shoot across your back, shutting your eyes as your muscles relax under yoongi’s familiar touch 

“your ass looks so fucking good, baby-“ yoongi seems to be mesmerised and in his own little world as he rubs the sunscreen into your skin, letting his hands glide up and down your back in slow sweeps as he takes his bottom lip in between his teeth, “i, like- god, i wanna fuck the shit outta you-“ 

“yoongi-“ your eyes pop open and you feel your face burn up immediately when yoongi suddenly grips your hips with both hands and forces you up a little 

you turn your head to look back at him (which, in hindsight, perhaps only encouraged yoongi even more because he loves when you look back at him when he’s got you on your elbows and knees for him), flustered to see that yoongi’s eyes have gone dark and there’s a certain look of heat swirling around in them, “we are in public-“

“so? there’s an umbrella and we’re off to the side-“ yoongi’s hand slides up your greased-up back before it slinks into your hair, fingers wrapping around your hair before he gives you a gentle yank, “and you love when i fuck you in this position, you were certainly a big fan of it last night-“ he growls playfully, leaning down so he can press a kiss to the back of your ear 

“you are shameless!” you can’t help but let out a laugh of disbelief as the logical voice in your head tells you that this is a highly inappropriate way to act on a public beach while the sprinkling of demon in you tells you that you should 100% just let yoongi yank your panties down on a public beach- 

“i’m a demon, the fuck did you expect?” yoongi’s other hand grabs a fistful of your ass as he starts rocking against you, “you knew who i was when we got together, you literally summoned me-“ 

“y/n, jungkook needs your help with his castle!” 

“shit- one second!“ you practically shove yoongi off and roll out from under him when you hear jimin’s sweet voice ring out, getting up onto your knees and reaching behind your back to fumble with the strings of your top, “you’re horrible, you know that?” 

the last thing you’d want is for jimin to pop his head under the umbrella to see yoongi slutting you out because that would probably traumatise him 

“you love it, don’t lie.” yoongi can’t help but chuckle to himself at how flustered you are (even after all this time together, your cheeks still get so pink as if you’re not used to him being so brazen with you all the time) as he plops himself back down on his chair, running a hand through his hair before he leans down to pick his sunglasses up off the floor 

“you’re gonna have to help him dig the moat because apparently i didn’t do it as well as you-“ 

“coming!” you get up onto your feet, dusting the flecks of sand off your hands and looking around for your own sunglasses, “i’m coming, i’m coming-“

“well, not yet, but you will be once we get home.” yoongi coughs, flicking his finger towards you before your sunglasses suddenly float out of your bag and over to you 

“you are horrible.” you snatch it midair before anyone notices before scrunching your nose at yoongi in a frown of disapproval

absolutely horrible! 

🎙️ scold yoongi and y/n for public indecency (talk to my characters!) 

📚 why not explore the rest of the library while you're here? (full fics!) 

💫 or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series!)

🌟 or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits like this!) 

[just--some--prompts]

Sentence/Conversation Starters:

Random things my friends and I have said over the years on Discord

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

✦ — Person A: “Something on my face?” Person B: “Yeah it's called being too handsome, now stop it.”

✧ — "Two cups of chicken broth, two cups of heavy cream, and then add the lego's–"

✦ — Person A: -makes struggling noises- Person B: "Are you ok?" Person A: "Nope" Person B: "Ok then"

✧ — "Don't shoot me! I'm pleasantly thick!"

✦ — "You’re starting another cult. You bitch."

✧ — Person A: "I’m allergic to honey because I’m allergic to beeeeeeees." Person B: "That's… not how it works?"

✦ — "You were here, you were our side hoe!"

✧ — "The hetero's are upsetero."

✦ — "Why does he not have clothes!?"

✧ — Person A: "We're not clean in the eyes of God." Persona B: "You're not clean in the eyes of your bathtub. How can you be clean in the eyes of God?"

✦ — "Consent is hot when you're fucking my life"

✧ — Person A: "You tire me" Person B: "Then go to bed"

✦ — "You were so far in the closet you were finding Christmas presents from 4 years ago!"

✧ — "I want... to put a pop-tart in his mouth. Do you like smores'?"

✦ — "Life of crime? Naw. Life of shaking ass? Sure."

✧ — Person B: "You're the opposite of a friendly boy." Person A: "What's the opposite of a friendly boy?" Person B: "A bitch."

✦ — -takes a fighting stance- “I'm ready to bite yo ass"

✧ — "People not talking to me? Ideal."

✦ — "You are all a burden upon my shoulders"

✧ — Person C: “Ima eat yo fucking al dente ass ligaments u Italian deviant” Person B: “You're welcome to. End my meat lineage.”

✦ — "Lol, simping for some sleep"

✧ — "Cucked for a soft pillow"

✦ — "Get cucked consciousness"

✧ — Person A: -struggles to breathe- Person B: "Breathe" Person A: "Who needs air?" Person B: "You need air to survive." Person A: "Debatable…" Person B: ".......shut up"

✦ — "I like my men like I like my food...  Genetically modified."

✧ — “Bitch, you got crabs?”

✦ — Person A: “Suc-Fuck you!” Person B: “You were gonna say suck.” Person C: “You were gonna say suck,” -Person C leans in closer- “that’s kinda gay bro.”

✧ — Person A: "So what are y’all talkin about?" Person B: "Uh... we were talking about gender reveals but with spaghetti"

✦ — "It's a millennial thing innit? Eatin' ass?"

✧ — "I'd stuff my face with you."

✦ — “Screams in slut, what!?”

✧ — Persona A: “I’m not mad.” Person B: “Don’t lie.” Person A: “Shut your whore mouth!”

✦ — -hands slam down on table- "They’ve had sex together!!!!"

✧ — "Rip in shit, binch. Sloshed and forgotten."

✦ — “This is how I die. Tell people it was something cool and not spicy egg salad.”

✧ — Person B: "You don't eat your phalanges [Person A]. Rookie mistake."

✦ — "When the Campbell's chunky take chunk out of you."

✧ — "Excuse me, Ma'am, can you put down a wet floor sign? You're a bit of a hazard."

✦ — "My gamer arthritis is making it hard for me to hold my wife's hand"

✧ — "Is this roller camping? .............I'm gonna fuck your mom."

✦ — Person A: "I struggle with his emotions–" Person C: "So does he."

✧ — "I thought by ‘squirt’ you meant that the clowns had venom sacks."

✦ — "We learned our lesson, don't convert–"

✧ — "You fed me eggs, now the government can track my location!!!"

✦ — Person C: "Anyway, back to the topic at hand–" Person B: "God, I wish his throat was under my hand–what?"

[raz-writes-the-thing]

In It For The Long Haul (Doctor Who)

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader / requests are open and encouraged

Summary: Almost dying repeatedly will wear anyone down eventually, and you're not sure how much more of this you can take.

CW: anxiety, nail picking, angst, comfort, sprinkle of fluff

DW tag list: @nyxiethesimp @quickslvxrr (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

Spending day after day with the Doctor could be incredibly easy. Travels throughout time and space, meeting aliens, seeing new planets and visiting markets and things. Those were the easy days. The soft days. The hard days, well, they almost broke you sometimes. 

The hard days were filled with kidnappings, murders, weeping mothers and danger lurking around any and all corners. You never knew what monster was going to pop out of what closet, or whether you were going to meet your end that day. And eventually, as that sort of thing would do to a person, it wore you down. 

Today, well, you weren’t sure you were going to make it. The Doctor was so used to this kind of thing day in and day out that you supposed he didn’t need to process it the same way you did, and the more you needed to press your memories back and bottle it all up, the more that tight ball of anxiety grew inside you, threatening to burst out and take you with it. 

The Doctor held his psychic paper in his hand, slapping it against the other thoughtfully. He’d received another message. Someone else who needed help. You wanted to help them. You really did. And you wanted to be there with the Doctor- side by side as you saved people and kicked alien ass. However, at the same time, the two of you had faced down at least three, maybe four, terrifying potentially fatal situations this week alone and, well, you were getting close to your breaking point. 

You were tired and overwhelmed.

You could tell just by looking at the Doctor that he was gearing up for an adventure. It was really horrible of you to think, but, well… if they were suffering and asking for help at a specific point in time- you could always wait a while and travel back to that point later. The caller would never know. You weren’t talking years or anything, just a few days. Even just a day.

As soon as the thought crossed your mind, you regretted it. You felt a wave of guilt wash over you, causing you to lean back against the TARDIS wall and sigh defeatedly. She seemed to hum from behind you, trying to give you a little comfort. Oh, you needed a vacation. And not a vacation where as soon as you get there the Doctor finds some alien threat to investigate or some bomb to diffuse. A real, honest-to-God vacation. Or you’d be the bomb the Doctor had to diffuse. 

“What do you think, eh? Up for another adventure?” The Doctor finally turned to you, a massive grin spread on his face. Upon seeing whatever expression was plastered on your own, his brows dropped down into concern. He hummed and within seconds had bounded over to where you were standing in the corner. “What’s wrong, love? Was it the crab? I never trust the crab from Sigfried Xena. Bit too… purple for me.” 

You let out a chuckle despite yourself. No matter what mood you were in, the Doctor always made you laugh. Whether it was intentional half the time was up for debate, but still. He made you laugh all the same. 

“It’s- it wasn’t the crab,” you say, biting your lip anxiously, looking at the tops of your shoes. The Doctor’s warm hand is suddenly over your own, and you realise that you’d been picking at your nails. A habit you’d formed when stressed or anxious. You were pretty sure that’s why you let them grow out sometimes. A steadying sigh leaves your lungs and you risk a look back up to the Doctor. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked pointedly, giving you one of those arched brow looks that always pulls you out of your shell.

“I don’t think I can do this.” The admission is so quiet you could barely hear it yourself. But the Doctor heard it. Of course, he does. 

“Do what?” 

You can tell he’s fighting the urge to say something to make you laugh. He can see you need to get this off your chest. 

“I don’t think I can go off on another dangerous adventure,” you breathe. “It’s not that I don’t want to, but, I’m- I can-” you let out a frustrated groan as the words refuse to form for you. The Doctor’s eyes are flitting between yours as if he understands perfectly and doesn’t understand a word at the same time. Then again, you were pretty sure that was just his permanent state of being anyway. 

“I almost died this week,” you say exasperatedly, feeling around the words and forcing them out. “Four times. And not in a cute oh-yeah-that-maths-homework-almost-killed-me kind of way. I almost actually died, Doctor. Four times. This week alone.” You knew he knew this, but you couldn’t regenerate. One bad shot from a gun, or a Dalek’s laser and it was game over for you. 

Being put in these situations over and over were starting to wear you down. The almost constant fear was starting to grate against your insides like sandpaper. 

The Doctor hummed for a second. You were almost certain this had been the most quiet he’d ever been. It was concerning. 

“I can’t leave whoever this is- they need help,” the Doctor said eventually, choosing his words. “I know you’re not asking me to stand by and let them suffer, but I can’t leave them. It’s not who I am.” 

You nodded, fingers grasping around the hand he has on yours so you didn’t start with your nails again. 

“How about this?” The Doctor says, using his free hand to raise your gaze back to him by your chin. “You can come, or you can sit this one out. The TARDIS will keep you company while I’m gone- and then when I get back, I’ll take you home.” 

You start to interrupt, but the look he gives you tells you to let him finish. 

“We can visit your family- oh, I dunno- have dinner or something, and then you can either come with me to the next great adventure, or you can stay. I won’t be upset.” You know this is a lie. Of course, he’d be upset. “Well, I’ll understand,” he corrects. 

You chew on your lip, peering into his eyes as if you’ll finally be able to decipher the thoughts going on behind them there. 

“One condition,” you say after a few moments, settling on a decision. “You take me dancing first- after the problem is dealt with that is,” you tack on quickly, waving at the psychic paper. 

“And I’m coming with you to help whoever that is. I might be overwhelmed, but I can’t stand by either.”

“Oh, yes,” he says softly, stretching back into that grin that melts hearts. “I think I can manage that.” 

He presses a kiss to your forehead, grasps one of your hands in his, and puts his other around your waist. You giggle freely as he leads you both back to the console of the TARDIS and lets go with an almost giggle of his own. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you how much I love dancing. Brilliant stuff, that is. Good for the soul. Alright, then,” he looks positively giddy, rubbing his hands together. “First stop Earth- 1746.” He starts booting the TARDIS up and organising the coordinates.

“Allons-y!” 

[boundinparchment]

Sand and Shells

In which you receive a gift from a friend, who may be more than he seems.

Pure Neuvillette fluff. Dedicated to @surveyycorps because otters are adorable.

Sometimes, you came to this beach outside the city to think. Not always the same time and not always the same day of the week, but nonetheless, it was a ritual. Rain or shine, this was your spot.

You removed your shoes, settled onto the sand, and stuck your feet in the water. Like always. Work was particularly difficult right now; you needed solutions to problems, not short-term fixes, and it was impossible to think at your desk. Especially when the tension and frustration was so thick, you would need a claymore to cut through it. Your supervisor answered to the Chief Justice and you had a feeling that perhaps certain things were being hidden to save face.

As if that would spare a dismissal or a lawsuit.

The Court didn’t take anything lightly, especially clerical errors from poor management.

Resting your cheek on your knee, you stared off into the distance, watching the sun on the ripples of water. It was quiet out this way. The occasional otter, a school of fish, or some crabs but otherwise, you were entirely unbothered.

That was, until you made eye contact with an otter nearby. It tilted its head, watching you. In its paws, a pink shell. Probably lunch.

You gave a small smile and waved. Otters were always fun to watch, especially in their true element underwater, where they glided and flipped and soared. To your surprise, the otter tilted its head in the other direction and gave a distinct chirp before it darted off.

Guess these guys aren’t too used to human company, you thought.

You shifted, clearing your head further and running your fingers through the sand. So lost in thought, you didn’t hear the putter patter of paws on sand nor the chirp; you jumped when you saw the flash of blue and white as a shell was laid at your feet. The otter squeaked but remained close by, watching you on hind legs.

It wasn’t scared after all…

In fact, its eyes were different too. Not inky black at all but silver and purple…more like a melusine…

“Is this for me?” you asked, picking up the shell. “Thank you. I ate already though. You should have it.”

The otter shook its head. When you didn’t open it, it took out a rock from a fur pocket and brought it over.

“If you insist…”

Prying open the shell, you didn’t see the typical meat at all, but rather a pearl, black as night. Pearls themselves were rare out here, let alone those of different color. You plucked it out carefully and marveled at its iridescence.

You smiled and looked back at the otter. Clearly it wanted approval. It understand human speech, to some extent. How odd.

“Thank you. It’s very pretty. I’ll keep it safe. Take your rock back, you need that.”

Offering the stone in the flat of your hand, the otter took it and tucked it back into its pocket. With a chirp and a squeak, it walked away back towards the water; it looked back once and waved before departing back smoothly into the lake.

What an odd little fellow.

You held up the pearl again. There was a jeweler on the way back to your office. Rings would get in the way…a necklace, then. Why let such a beautiful pearl go to waste?

Weeks later, upon a surprise inspection, your supervisor was fired. Chief Justice Neuvillette would, to the best of his schedule, oversee the transition. He spent time getting to know names and faces, and when he came to you, your heart stopped.

His eyes were always so captivating but…surely…

“Black pearls are quite rare. The jeweler did a lovely job…they’re difficult to work with.”

You swallowed and pressed your fingers to the pearl, cold against your skin.

“It‘s from a friend. I doubt I’ll ever meet them again, so I wear it to remember them.”

“Ah. Then they’re quite lucky to have someone as thoughtful as you.”

You would remember that smile, soft and genuine, for days to come.

[judasgot-it]

dazai seems to go after women who don’t fall for him easily; what if you did a reader who didn’t really care or be affected by his romantic advances?

oooooo rip Dazai would 100% go CRAZY bro. I don't do yandere but lowkey Dazai would be a bit of a yandere in this case...

Scenario: Dazai getting rejected by reader constantly (Trigger warnings for Dazai's alcoholism and addiction, also for other depression mentions)

The known flirt was at it again.

You knew his name - he insisted on making you ring up his order every time he came to your store every day. It was innocent enough really. You didn't even notice it, since he was so easy to be drawn into a conversation with, and you wouldn't lie when he asked if you thought he was cute.

He was, especially compared to some of the older men you've seen come in, those who would buy cigarettes and alcohol at odd hours of the night. A real shame that he was just as bad as them once you saw him come by time and time again.

The man would buy the cheapest alcohol and some of the cheapest foods, occasionally splurging on some 'nice' sweets - only if he was with seemingly young coworkers of his. At least he was nice in that aspect, not forcing children to pay for themselves whenever he was out shopping for his assumedly drunken nights.

A part of you wished that you could feel attracted to him. He was really charming when he wanted to be.

But his shopping habits disturbed you.

What man, in his early 20s and living assumedly alone, needed to buy so many different medications? You weren't one to judge, but he was just extremely strange.

He might not have realized it either, but you worked day and night shifts at that store - you saw him when he was at his worst buying pre-packed sushi, and you've never seen a man appear more...haggard.

So maybe it was hard to find him attractive when he was put together for work the next day. He might have looked nice, smelling of a strange cologne, but you could never get the picture of him in his slacks, with sweat stains on his shirt, tearing open his pre-packaged sushi like a rabid anime out of the mental movie you held.

He was like the babadook.

It disturbed you deeply.

"Well, good morning my belladonna! Tell me, do you think this wouldn't make just a lovely hour to feel our entangled hands grow cold together? Watching the rising sun fall upon our corpses?"

More than that, somehow.

How did he ever lose his virginity when he flirted like that? You wished you could ask him that one day.

"Let me ring you up, Dazai."

Your boss would kill you if she ever learned that you were rude to customers. Unfortunately, Dazai was just another customer you would have to put up with. His words would simply have to roll off of you.

"You know Ms. y/n, I really wish we could see each other more often, without a counter between us. I know this really great place that serves excellent coffee."

"Better than what you bought?"

Dazai laughed that comment off.

"Oh, you're funny Y/n. They have a little secret about how they keep their coffee so fresh, I'm quite close with the owners you know?"

You just shook your head, placing his items in a bag. He had bought bulk coffee grains and...canned crab? You didn't want to know why he ate that.

"Your total is 9.35, congrats. Cash or card?"

Dazai took his careful time taking out his wallet, leaning onto the counter, and taking up as much of your personal space as he could. He took out his card and not so subtly looked at you as he inserted it into the card reader.

"Y/n, you should really think about my offer. It would be quite sweet, don't you think?"

"Coffee or the suicide?"

Dazai laughed again - his weird wet laugh, the one that made you feel like you were talking with some sort of deranged serial killer. He gave off the vibe. There was something he was hiding in his smile.

His bandages hid something, which you frankly didn't want to know more about.

"Whichever works, I like how your misery feels. It makes me feel less alone in my own."

You looked up at him, meeting his eyes. They were empty, dark holes that stared right into you, leaving you exposed. His smile was vacant as well, watching with interest as you absorbed whatever he was. There were many words you wished you could say, but your work cameras were watching this transaction carefully.

"That's nice. I hope you have a good day."

You turned away from him, signaling that the transaction was over.

There was no one else in the store but the two of you, not even the sunlight.

Just you, him, and the silence.

Dazai gleefully reached over, taking his bag into his arms and pressing his body into the counter, leaning his face as close to yours as he could. You could feel his laughs against the low collar of your shirt - his dark eyes as they slowly traced up your form, which still looked right through your body.

He was invading through something deeper, and you wished you could put up some sort of barrier. Crossing your arms over your body did little to ease you as you tried to play him off, trying to give him as little of a reaction as he wanted.

Dazai wasn't a pervert, he wasn't a creep - he was something else.

He wanted something else from you.

It had you on edge. You didn't even know how to stop him from eating that part of you, swallowing you into whatever abyss he was.

That man was human, but every time he came close he made you want to run.

But despite being so close to you, he didn't say anything. No leering comments, no threats.

You heard him leave, which was when you finally had the courage to look at where he last stood.

He didn't even leave anything in his wake.

Nothing to truly disturb you, at the very least.

Just a daisy, which you were sure he had kept in his pocket this entire time.

He was odd like that. The guy always tried to keep his moments elaborate, so he would stick in your head for days.

Unfortunately, it worked. No matter how much you tried to ignore him.

I have no idea if this is actually the prompt haha but I like the idea of Dazai not being like a full-on yandere even though that's kinda canon? But him being like a real freak. Also oml thank you for being so patient cause this was in my ask box forever! and I still have more!