#I could see it so vividly I had to try drawing something!

[nancyheart11]

Ahhhhh Lofty I loved it! It was just the right level of cute to picked me up! (And has been continuing to do so (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧)

any chance I could get some comfort from blorbos? It's been a long day and I'm both tired and hurting (deep cleaning and moving will do that to you I guess)

No pressure if you're tired though!

Rusl stretched a little, back sore from sleeping on the ground. He felt the blood move in his legs as he flexed his feet and tried to let the coolness of the morning dew pull him into wakefulness.

He hadn’t slept the best, but he knew with the exhaustion headache he’d had yesterday he’d needed to rest. Link had volunteered to keep watch, and Rusl had naturally argued letting the boy stay up all night, so they’d compromised.

Wolf senses were far more keen, after all.

When a wet nose greeted him as he opened his eyes, prodding at him hesitantly, Rusl smiled sleepily and pushed his head off the ground for an instant to get a little peck on Link’s snout. His boy sneezed in retaliation, huffing and stomping his paws as he pulled back, irritated. Rusl laughed despite it, and Link quickly turned back into his normal Hylian form, face sour.

“Pa,” he grumbled halfheartedly.

Rusl’s smile lessened, almost apologetically, before he pounced on his boy, wrestling him to the ground and kissing his nose again while Link wiggled and yelled.

[wibben]

Photogenic

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nanami does not like his picture taken.

It’s a shame, really, because he’s painfully and effortlessly photogenic. Even the begrudging shots – the ones taken mid-grimace or right as that frown of his settles in – turn out looking unfairly good.

You’d seen it firsthand. There was that one birthday dinner at Shoko’s, where she’d caught him mid-toast, glass raised and mouth sloping into a small, tolerant smile as she snapped a quick shot of the table. The photo looked like something out of a magazine ad, his cheeks warmed from the sake, his eyes a little brighter. But when she’d tried to show him, he shook his head with an unimpressed grunt.

Or the time Gojo had insisted on a group photo after a team mission. Gojo teased Kento into standing there, arms crossed and brow knitted in simmering annoyance, looking thoroughly put out. But somehow, he just looked like he was on the cover of GQ: chin tilted just right, sleeves rolled up perfectly, even his hair slightly tousled from the fight before. You might’ve whimpered a little when Kento insisted it be deleted (and maybe almost sobbed again with joy when Gojo refused).

No matter the context, Kento managed to look remarkable. And yet, he loathed each and every photo ever taken of him.

You couldn’t quite place where this aversion came from. Maybe a bad childhood haircut immortalized in an old family album, or one too many “just one more!”s from well-meaning friends. Either way, you’d mostly given up trying to capture him on camera. He existed as some sort of cryptid, like Bigfoot or the Loch Ness Monster: either you knew him in person, or he didn’t exist at all. But that hadn’t stopped Yuji – occasional agent of chaos – from sneaking in a few shots here and there. And that’s where your favorite picture of him came from.

You remember the day it was taken vividly. 

You’d insisted on a celebratory lunch for Yuji – a reward for a particularly tough job handled with flying colors (or, in short, because he’d actually listened to Kento’s instructions). Yuji joked his way through most of the meal, poking fun at everything from Kento’s meticulous folding of his napkin to his tactical approach to his plate, eating in the order of salad, then sides, then his main course. 

It had been right after you’d done… well, you couldn’t remember exactly what, as unremarkable as it was. Maybe a bad impression of Gojo, maybe a terrible joke. But whatever it was, Kento broke, his shoulders dropping as he graced the table with a genuine, unrestrained laugh that only you seemed capable of pulling out of him. Yuji had been quick to draw, snapping the photo before either of you noticed. 

Later, Yuji sent it to you with a sly grin. “Mrs. Nanami’s gotta have the good stuff,” he’d whispered, nudging you as he tilted his phone towards you. 

You stared, speechless, your heart doing a little stammering skip. There it was – Kento, your Kento, laughing, his shoulders relaxed, the faint lines by his eyes softened by that rare brightness in his gaze as he looked at you. You couldn’t help it; you’d immediately favorited it the moment it hit your inbox, tucked it into a private album, and maybe, possibly, looked at it embarrassingly often.

A few weeks later, though not remotely forgotten to you, it remained blissfully unknown to him.

One evening as you flipped through your camera roll, Kento leaned over the back of the couch, his arm bracing himself as he studied the photos of the fancy dinner the two of you had recently gone to. You’d taken more than one, trying to capture every detail of the delicate plating at his insistence so he could try and recreate it at home.

“Do you have a close-up of that risotto?” he asked, leaning in closer, his arm casually wound around the front of your chest and his breath drifting soft feathers across your cheek. “I want to see how they plated it.”

You nodded with an affirmative hum, flipping back a few photos – only to scroll back just a bit too far and that picture fills your screen, in all of it’s HD, no-longer-secret glory.

Your heart tripped as Kento’s gaze landed on it. You felt the warmth of his presence beside you grow a bit more rigid as he examined the photo, brows raising ever so slightly.

“...That isn’t dinner,” he remarked, clearing his throat beside your ear.

“Oh! That’s, um, just a… candid,” you stumbled, trying desperately for nonchalance. “Yuji took it, and it’s a really nice picture and I don’t have many, so I just…” your efforts to play it cool are skillfully undone by the plucking of your nerves… self-imposed, of course, because Kento remains quiet.

But he was still looking at it, brows drawing together as he studied it with a rare, quiet intensity.

“You favorited it,” he murmured, eyes flicking back to you.

His voice was low, gentle, but you stewed with nervousness all the same. “Well, I mean – look at you!” you laughed, feeling shy under his gaze, like you’d been caught doing something you shouldn’t have. “The only pictures I have of you smiling are from our wedding! Let me have this–”

Kento plucked the phone from your hands and you screeched, immediately trying to claw it back. “Wait, don’t delete it!” you laughed, a cauldron of nerves and panic bubbling in your chest as he holds it just out of reach of your swiping hands, his mouth curving in that calm way it always does. You’re sure he’s about to grumble about “nonsense” or “unnecessary photos” or “living in the moment.”

But he didn’t delete it. Instead, he adjusted his glasses and held your phone closer to his face, gazing down at the screen with a gentleness that stopped your protests cold. You caught the flicker of something tender in his eyes as he studied the photo – lingering on you, the way you lean toward him, how happy you look together.

He was silent for a moment, the slightest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. Then, almost shyly, “Could you… send it to me?”

You felt your eyebrows lift to be lost in your hairline, staring at him as if he’d just asked for the moon. “You… you want me to send it?”

He nodded. “Yes. I think I’d like to keep it.”

Your heart did a little stutter, a flash of warmth rushing to your face as you quickly sent him the photo. You didn’t think your grin could get any wider – but it did as you watched him save it, his expression somewhere between fond and exasperated, like he wasn’t quite sure how he’d gotten here, holding on to a picture of himself simply because it had been yours.

The next morning, with toothbrush in hand and foam dripping down your chin, you checked your phone and blinked, frozen in the middle of a brushstroke. That picture – that picture – was staring back at you as his profile picture, right there on the one or two social media accounts he’d reluctantly made but never actually used. You barely resisted the urge to squeal.

And then, later that day, it happened again: catching the briefest flash of his phone screen across the kitchen table, you saw the photo on his lock screen too. He looked up, catching your wide-eyed staring with a soft smile, one that was just for you, and undeniably better than any picture could ever be.

[kunazz]

WEEK ONE: RYOMEN SUKUNA — [public blowjob]

tags: blowjobs, public setting, spit, choking, slight praise, degradation, hair pulling, lowercase is on purpose.

synopsis: sukuna decides he’s had enough of waiting and chooses to take what’s his, even if that meant he did it in the back of the cinema.

a/n: kicking off kinktober with a good start!! Let’s hope I make it through the rest of the weeks :] I HAVENT PROOF READ YET IM SO TIRED. Promise I’ll do it soon..

sukuna breathed steadily through his nose, his eyes shutting tightly as he sunk further down onto your cock, the glow of the cinema screen providing a dim light and helping him see what he was doing. it wasn’t busy, only a few people littering the chairs in the front and middle rows, and half probably weren’t even paying attention to the movie — whatever it was you had definitely forgotten by now, especially with the way sukuna was gagging around you, tongue sticking out to lick the base as he took your cock down his throat to the best of his ability.

“holy shit, kuna..you’re doing so good..” you groan softly, trying to keep your voice down because you were not about to get caught by a random old person who was genuinely enjoying this stupid hero movie.

was it even a hero movie?

at this point you were beginning to think there wasn’t an actual plot to whatever was being shown on the screen, and maybe, having a blow job in the back of the cinema would make this whole trip worth it — and could possibly salvage the last piece of excitement you and sukuna had.

your cock was thick, and heavy, sliding across sukuna’s tongue and trying to fit down his throat, stretching him around your cock until he was sputtering and jerking backwards, trying not to cough his lungs out and draw attention to the two of you. he sighed through his nose, eyebrows furrowed in determination as he trying to swallow all the saliva he could before your hand was pushing him back down, a loud wet gagging sound meeting your ears that was thankfully drowned out by the movies loud and dramatic sound effects, but you were grateful to hear it — sukuna’s struggle was always a pleasure, especially when he was usually so cocky.

“It’s like you’re made for this now..I trained you well” you mumble, hips jerking upwards just to make sukuna gag around you a little more, enjoying the way his body contorts before he pulls back just a little. you can remember when you and sukuna first attempted this, he wasn’t getting half of your cock in his mouth like he was now, his throat contracted way too much, and you can remember vividly the loud burping sound that came from him — almost puking all over you, and that’s when you decided to call it quits. sukuna had a bad habit of trying to do things all in one go, especially things he wasn’t good at, and that ended up with him either failing or trying and trying until he got it right. you’ve told him that it’s ok to get things wrong, but his response is always the same “i never get shit wrong, I can do it”.

but, his efforts to suck your cock did pay off, because now he was able to take you to the hilt, of course he gagged a lot, and his reflex was something that would take more time to work on, but the fact he can fit all of your cock in his mouth and down his throat was an achievement in itself — and you always made sure to praise him for it.

“good slut..you’re doing so well f’me..” you mutter, a soft gasp leaving you when sukuna’s hand comes up to play with your balls, tongue lapping at the base of your cock as the rest fits perfectly down his throat — he’s drooling so much now, and when he comes up for some breath, a large glob of saliva dribbles down your cock, soaking at the cushony seats you sat on; the cleaner was going to have a field day after this.

you sigh softly, petting sukuna’s head as your cock twitches when the cool air hits it, you’re close, so close you could almost cum just from looking at how wrecked sukuna was, but you had more self control than that, and you weren’t about to blow your load unless your cock was so far down sukuna’s throat he could almost feel you in his belly. “g’na make me cum baby?” you question, head cocking to the side as a playful smirk stretches onto your lips — the movie plays in the background, but it’s drowned out to the both of you when the slick sounds of sukuna jerking you off fill both your ears.

“wanna cum on my face or-”

“in your mouth” you’re quick to shut sukuna off, not wanting waste anymore time as the minutes of the movie we’re depleating, and and you’d rather have your pants on when the credits roll and the lights slowly turn back on. you can hear sukuna make a snide remark, commenting something about your desperation, but he takes your cock back into his mouth anyways. this time, it’s clear he’s determined, the way his cheeks hollow when he sucks back up is a distinct indicator of that, and your hips accidentally buck up into his mouth every time he does so.

“such a good whore f’me..gonna make me cum baby” you groan, mouth hanging open as you tug at sukuna’s hair, feeling the soft strands wrap around your fingers before you’re shoving his head back down, liking the way his body contorts and stiffens at the sudden action. “take it like a good boy yeah? use that mouth for what’s it’s made to do” your words are now turning sukuna’s ears red, and you take pride in embarrassing someone as egotistical and cold as him — it’s an achievement.

you use sukuna’s head as a fleshlight, pushing his head up and down your cock, enjoying the way his spit cascades down your shaft, making everything even more wet and messy. you can feel yourself getting closer, and your cock was throbbing, begging for release as you push sukuna’s head all the way down. “cum- fuck i’m cumming baby..” you groan, hips pushing up to make sure your cock was all the way down sukuna’s throat as you came, not wanting to waste a single drop of it.

it was an earth shattering orgasm, one of the best ones you’ve had in a while, and you’re not sure if it’s to do with the fact that sukuna’s finally gotten better or blow jobs, or if it’s to do with the fact you’re in public and you could have been caught at any moment — it’s probably the latter. but even so, you don’t care, not when sukuna’s cleaning off your cock, swallowing your cum with a grimace.

“tastes fuckin’ nasty, the fuck do you eat?” sukuna grumbles, he had half the mind to spit it out, but a part of him didn’t mind swallowing your cum down, it wasn’t as unpleasant as he made it out to be, this was just him trying to scrape at the last bit of dignity he had.

“most of the time it’s pizza or your ass” you reply, sarcasm lacing your tone as you pull your jeans back up — great, just in time for the credits of the movie, at least your timing was right. sukuna didn’t find any humour in your witty response and slapped your shoulder, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked at you.

“then no more pizza” he says, standing up to leave as everyone else did too.

“what about your ass?” you inquired, standing up with him as you raised an eyebrow.

“you know you can’t live without that.”

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Prettiest Sight

Pairing: Stucky x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: really just cockwarming technically, sort of exhibitionism/voyeurism, Bucky has a filthy mouth even in such a casual setting, honestly this isn't much compared to some of my others lol

Genre: fluff and smut

Summary: Steve wants to draw you and Bucky and you plan to let him

***

You stride into your room humming to yourself as you finish a text. When you enter, Steve and Bucky are lounging around, Steve at the desk, and Bucky on the couch watching TV.

"Oh hey guys. I didn't realize you'd be back already." You say.

"We just went on a coffee run." Steve reminds you, tapping your coffee cup with his pencil.

"Well yeah I know but sometimes that shop gets busy." You shrug.

"Where did you get off to princess?" Bucky asks.

"Just had some laundry I thought I'd take care of while you were out. I just sat up there til I could put them into the dryer so I didn't forget." You explain grabbing your coffee from the table and taking a sip.

"Oh okay."

"What ya doin Stevie?" You ask looking over his shoulder where he's hunched over at your desk.

"Just some sketching." He mutters.

"He's been at it most of the morning. Even at the coffee shop, he was doodling away while we were waiting." Bucky tells you.

"Really?" You hum. "Can I see some of them?" You ask.

"They aren't like- great or anything just, trying some things." Steve mutters handing you the sketchbook. You flip through the drawings with wide eyes. Some of them are simple, outlines and such some barely more than shadows, but other pages are much more detailed, vivid depictions of places and things and the occasional person.

"These are impressive Stevie. You shouldn't sell yourself short." You tell him sitting down in Bucky's lap.

"Are these just strangers?" Bucky asks peaking at one of the drawings with an arm wrapped around your waist.

"Yeah- I don't draw people a lot but every once in a while I'll try." Steve shrugs.

"Well you could always draw us if you want the practice." You say with a wink. You're pretty sure he'll never actually take you up on the offer but you're not joking.

"Wanna draw us like one of your French girls Stevie?" Bucky smirks resting his chin on your shoulder.

"Don't tease. I was being serious." You lightly smack Bucky's thigh in reprimand.

"Actually- I did have this one idea." Steve mutters his cheeks tinged pink slightly.

"Really?" Bucky blinks at him.

"You wanna draw us?" Even you're surprised.

"If you guys don't mind."

"Of course we don't. What's the idea?" You ask. Steve doesn't answer immediately, but the tint in his cheeks is spreading in the space left after your question.

"Oh shit he really does want to draw us like Jack's French girls." Bucky laughs.

"Stop it." You roll your eyes. "Is that it Steve?"

"Well kind of. Unfortunately, my recollection isn't great otherwise I would just draw it from memory but- it's just that you always look so beautiful when Buck or I am filling you I thought it'd be a nice moment to immortalize." Steve explains and the revelation sends a shiver down your spine and has your core clenching slightly.

"Oh." You breathe out.

"You- wanna draw us with her sitting on my dick?" Bucky asks and you almost squirm at his words, the imagery now vividly at the forefront of your mind.

"It's a real pretty sight." Steve says.

"I mean I know it is Steve I'm just- surprised. You've never been one for that kind of exhibitionistic interest." Bucky says.

"Whatever man." Steve rolls his eyes. "Y/n? What are you thinking?" He asks you hesitantly.

 "I mean I'm not- against it. You just want me like in Bucky's lap?" You ask.

"Yeah pretty much."

"Well if Bucky's fine with it-"

"You'll never have to convince me to do something that involves you on my dick." Bucky shrugs.

"You are so vulgar." You roll your eyes.

"You had no problem with my vulgarity last night princess." Bucky kisses the back of your neck.

"Down boy." You joke. "Stevie you wanna give this idea of yours a try or what?"

"Now?" He blinks.

"Yeah why not? We're all here and you've got your sketchpad." You shrug. "Just tell us what to do and we can make it happen."

"O- okay, well you'll need to strip." Steve says.

"Risque." Bucky jokes as you climb off of his lap to tug off your shorts and t-shirt.

"You too Bucky." Steve says.

"Can do." Bucky winks at Steve shuffling down his jeans and pulling his shirt over his head.

"Actually- y/n put on one of our shirts that you've highjacked." Steve says.

"Hey you guys leave your clothes in here half the time." You protest but you grab one of Steve's shirts from your drawer anyway. You put it on and walk back over to Bucky on the couch.

"And the other half of the time you just go into our rooms and take things." Bucky says tapping your butt lightly. You stick your tongue out at him in response and he chuckles.

"Anyway, do you need a little warm-up y/n?" Steve asks.

"A warm-up?" You ask.

"Well yeah- you'll be sitting for a little bit, you both need to be somewhat comfortable." Steve says as if it's obvious.

"Oh." It's all you can come up with in response.

"Come here doll, let's get you ready hm, although- I'd bet you're already dripping for us like always." Bucky spins you to face him, a hand wrapping around your thigh, fingers settling incredibly close to your center. Close enough that if he stretched the digits he'd be touching, but where they are now it's just enough for you to be hyperaware of the closeness.

"Now's really not the best time for one of your games Bucky." Steve cautions.

"There's never a bad time for those." Bucky winks. Steve rolls his eyes which only makes Bucky's smirk widen as if he has every intention of riling you both up.

"This is supposed to be about me drawing you two babe, can't do that if you're just gonna make a mess of her til she's begging for both of us." Steve says and you almost want to abandon the drawing in favor of that when he says it.

"Alright I'll be nice." Bucky concedes tapping against your thigh lightly. The action instinctually has your legs spreading enough for him to slip two fingers between your slick folds. "Just like I thought, so wet before anyone even had to touch you. Always so ready for us." Bucky hums as he pumps his fingers in and out of you slowly, stretching you. You can't help the small whimpers and moans that fall from your lips at Bucky's ministrations with both men watching intently. A few minutes of playing your body like a custom instrument have you unsteady on your feet and that's when Bucky withdraws. "I'd say you're ready." He says sliding his fingers into his mouth to lick them clean and the action makes your walls clench. You take a deep breath before speaking again.

"Do you want me facing you Stevie? Or should I be facing Bucky for this?" You ask.

"Face me sweetheart." Steve says. You nod and climb onto Bucky's lap straddling him with your back to Bucky. You take Bucky in your hand and he hisses but he can't dwell on the sweet grip of your fingers because in the next moment, you're sinking down onto him, the molten heat of your core envelops him like the sweetest torture. You take your time settling on top of him, 'unintentionally' grinding further against his erection until his hands squeeze warningly against your hip. "Behave you two. I'm serious about drawing you." Steve warns.

"Of course baby." You smile innocently at him.

"Alright- Bucky get comfortable but your legs need to be spread so I can actually see where you're joined oh and slip your hand into her shirt, cup one of her boobs. And you can put your other hand on her thigh." Steve gives you a series of directions which Bucky follows quickly. "Y/n you can lean back against him." Steve adds and you settle against Bucky's chest, and his head rests on your shoulder. "Good girl. Now you guys can just sit there while I draw."

"Do we gotta be quiet and still or-" Bucky trails.

"I mean as long as you don't move too much it's fine, and you can definitely talk, at least until I'm drawing your faces but I'll let you know when I'm at that point." Steve's already started sketching, his eyes darting from you and Bucky to his sketchpad. Bucky swipes his thumb across the nipple of your breast that's in his hand and you gasp at the sudden stimulation.

"Bucky-" You warn.

"Sorry doll, you're just impossible to resist." He hums pressing a kiss to your neck that makes a shiver run down your spine.

"You're insufferable." You scoff at him.

"You say that but I can feel you squeezing me at my teasing." He says.

"Settle down Bucky." Steve warns him although you doubt Bucky will listen. If you're lucky he'll save the teasing for after the drawing is finished but chances are you'll end up doing way more than sitting on his dick within the hour. Bucky can be quite patient but when it comes to you neither of them is particularly good at managing their insatiability. You'll be seriously surprised if Steve manages to finish his drawing before one or both of them decides this time is better spent forcing orgasms from you.

***

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Heaven is not fit to house a love (like you and I) | Last Part

Word Count: 13.8k

Genre: smut, angst, fluff

Summary: When you first met your boyfriend, it was love at first sight. No, more than that. It was love before you even met. It felt like you had known each other in another life and were meant to find each other again. 

But that's not actually true, is it? You and Beomgyu don't actually know each other from another life, and the dreams you've been having aren't memories of your past life either. That's ridiculous. 

But then why does Beomgyu get so defensive about them? And why does each dream feel more real than the one before? 

A/N: this is the sequel to my series YAMQN but I'm trying to write it in a way that it would be comprehensible to people who have never read YAMQN. The parts in italic are the dreams. 

Warnings: fem!reader, sub!gyu, dom!reader, dom!gyu, sub!reader, fingering, handjobs, missionary, doggy, mentions of previous noncon, yandere behaviour, violence, bodily harm, alienation

You still have the dreams, the memories, the torment. They never went away despite you trying your goddamn hardest. Your brain seems to conjure them up harder and more vividly the more you work to push them away. You don't know if Beomgyu knows this but he's beside you every possible second of every day, keeping you busy and helping to push it all away, or at least distract you from it. 

You've quit your job. Beomgyu isn't unreasonable. He will help you get another job, just as soon as you feel better. But not right now. You're not ready yet. You need rest and he makes sure you get it, devoting every second he's not at his job or getting you food and stuff you need to taking care of you.

He wanted you to move away, just pack your things and get away from this place that had brought you both such grief, but you couldn't go through with it. Not yet. You had freaked out when he suggested it, telling you it would do you good to get a fresh start and get away from Taehyun but you know he wouldn't be the only one you'd be getting away from. All your friends are here. Your family is here. And even though you're hardly seeing them right now, you know it wouldn't be right to completely uproot yourself from everything you've ever known except Beomgyu. Even though you'd promised to completely and fully devote yourself to only him, you know it can't be good for your already unstable mental state.

You tell him that you'd feel so terribly alone if you move away, especially when he goes to work. So he offers to quit his job to spend all his time with you, explaining that he has put aside some savings he could use for the time being but you still refuse. You tell him that you'd be horribly selfish to let him waste the little precious money he saved up just so he can babysit you but you don’t tell him about how much it scares you to cross that last boundary, to let him completely and utterly devour your entire life despite something at the bottom of your soul telling you to just give it to him.   

Beomgyu reassures you that he doesn’t mind. He wants to spend his money to make sure you're taken care of, but you still refuse. You stand your ground and hold onto the last shred of your life that is not his–for what? You don’t know–and he reluctantly lets it go, for now at least. 

Instead, he uses the time he does have with you to pamper you, feeding you breakfast in bed, getting you things to occupy your time while he's away, drawing baths for you when he gets home from work. It all feels so terribly familiar. The sense of deja vu choking you but Beomgyu is determined to mentally and physically push it all out of your mind and take its place instead. 

He only reads you happy poems and stories, only sings you cheerful love songs. You feel like he’s lulling you into a deep slumber. You're still where you've always been–your friends and family are still within reach, your old life is there to reclaim if you want to–but it's like he'd succeeded in putting a wall between you and the world just like he wanted, and it scares you that you can't tell if that is a good or bad thing. Maybe you should just give into him, fall into him and dissolve into his being until no one will ever be able to pull you apart again. 

You feel his fingers knead the skin of your shoulders as he sits behind you in the bathtub–once again using his free time after work to take care of you instead of giving himself a break after working hard all day. Bubbles and candles surround you, the calming scent of them permeating your brain like a drug, aided by the glass of wine in your hand, to lull you further into your slumber. You let out small hums of appreciation under Beomgyu's expert hands that seem to know you better than you know yourself. How does he know where exactly to touch to unwind a particular knot in your back or relieve a certain stress that has been nagging you for a while? All you have to do is sit there and sip your wine, letting the groggy feeling from the liquid combine with the blissful pleasure of Beomgyu's touch to submerge you deeper into a dreamy state that one day you may never wake up from. 

“There is this beach I was reading about online that I'd like to visit.” You tell him lazily and he chirps happily. He always gets so excited when you initiate any outings or dates to go on and it makes that familiar tender spot in your heart ache at how selfish you’re being. He tries so hard to make you happy and fill your life up with fun and exciting things to do to distract you from the loneliness, and yet you so rarely respond in kind. “Sure. Anything you want, my love.” 

You smile, hearing the relief in his voice, and you go on, a little more excitedly. “It's near that old medieval castle at the cliff top. It's very popular.” 

“Oh, that place.” His hands falter and you can feel a sudden strange chill in the air. “It's just an overrated touristy spot. I know plenty of other beaches that are better.”

You pout. You didn't expect his response. He is usually happy to do whatever you want and you had actually been looking forward to going to that particular beach for a while. “But I want to go there. The beach looks really nice and I thought I could even go explore that old abandoned castle with my prince.” You giggle, trying to crane your head back to send him a flirty look but the expression you find on his face wipes all hints of playfulness off yours.

“And I don't want to. Pick literally anywhere else.” His response is strangely irritated and you frown. You should probably drop it. He is right. There are plenty of nice beaches around. You don't have to go to that particular one. But something about his sharp refusal prompts you to dig more. Stupid girl. Don’t you know that curiosity killed the cat? 

“Why do I need to when we can just go there?” You huff, tension creeping back into your shoulders. 

“I said no.” He rebuts with no explanation and your fiery temper sparks through the heavy fog that has been weighing on your brain. 

“Oh, you said no? Well then if Master says no then I guess that's the end of it.” You snap, your anger begging for you to let it catch fire.  

“Why are you being difficult? I thought you said you'd listen to me?” 

And just like it, he snuffs it all under his finger. You immediately shut down. How long is he going to hold that over your head? You've quit your job. You haven't spoken to Taehyun since then. You hardly see your friends. You stay home waiting for him like a dutiful little housewife. What more does he want from you? You know you've made a mistake. You know you promised to make it up to him and regain his trust, but surely asking to visit a stupid beach doesn't count as a potential breach of trust, does it? 

“Forget it.” You mumble, deflated. You were really looking forward to going there. The place looked super pretty online. It was one of the few places lately that have managed to get you excited at the prospect of visiting them. It held a certain vibrant draw to it when everything else seemed gray and dull in comparison. But you guess you can’t have even that.

You try to get out of the bath, no longer in the mood for intimate messages, but Beomgyu holds you back. Of course, he does. 

“Wait.” You hear Beomgyu sigh and let his hands drop to the water to circle around your waist and pull your body back against him, his lips kissing the junction between your neck and shoulder gently, apologetically. “I'm sorry, baby. I just have a bad feeling about that place. Can't you trust me on that?”

A bad feeling about the place? What the fuck does that mean? It’s just a beach, what could possibly go wrong there? 

Still, you hesitate. You didn’t think that anything could go wrong by being friends with Taehyun either and that Beomgyu was being overly jealous and paranoid but here you are. Maybe if you go there you'll fucking drown or something crazy like that.

You suppose you can give him that. You know if you had a bad feeling about a place, Beomgyu would not force you to go there. It probably wouldn’t be fun anyway if you make him go and he hates every second of it. You want to do something you both enjoy. 

But you really wanted to visit that place. Maybe you should go when he's at work… 

No. Just the idea of going out in public alone without Beomgyu makes you shudder. You can't handle being around people without Beomgyu's comforting presence to rely on. He's got you right where he wants you.

“Fine.” You say in a small voice, finally relenting. 

“Thank you, princess.” He sighs in relief and the tension in the air begins to dissipate once again. “I know you’re bored. I promise to take some time off work and take you on a nice vacation somewhere. How does that sound?”

“Okay.” You mumble unenthusiastically. 

“Come on. Cheer up.” He holds your jaw gently and turns you towards him, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that slowly turns sensual. 

“Beomgyu…” You whine into his mouth, the water shifting as you rub your thighs together. He will never not have an effect on you. You’re too weak for him. 

“I know, princess.” His hand drops between your legs, loosening you up. “I got you.”

His light touches are as strong as electric currents coursing through your veins, and before long, you find yourself squirming in his hold, pushing yourself closer to his touch while paradoxically trying to get away from the intense feeling at the same time. 

But he doesn’t let you. He throws his other arm over you, caging you into place as he takes a hold of your breasts, kneading them until your nipples have pebbled in need. 

“Baby…” You keen, pushing your breasts further into his hand, and crying out as he pulls one of your perked nipples between his thumb and forefinger. 

“Relax for me, baby.” He hums, holding you in place as he works his fingers inside you. It stings a bit as the water dilutes your arousal but he throws your legs on either edge of the tub to give him more space for his fingers to easily breach your hole, the heel of his palm working in tandem to bring you to the edge so scarily fast that you barely even register the sharp bite of his teeth on your neck as he zealously marks you. “Let me take care of you.” 

It’s a spell–a bid to get you to let go, and it’s so hard to not give in when he makes it feel so damn good. 

You're so exposed like this. Even though there is no one here to see you but Beomgyu, it feels like the whole universe is watching him spread you open to his satisfaction and no amount of faux demurity would fool the universe into believing you're not a willing participant in all of this. It's hard to care about your debauched display when your orgasm was heating you up from the inside so much you feel like you might spontaneously combust. Why is it always so intense with him? How does he do it so well? 

You may never know but what you do know is that your orgasm was rolling towards you like the water rolling over the edge of the tub, sharp and sudden, and when it reaches you it threatens to take you under. But Beomgyu holds your head above the water as his relentless fingers continue to fuck you until you yield to his will. You break apart under his touch, forgetting about everything except him in those few moments, forgetting about the beach, the castle, Taehyun and everything you've lost–the only thing registering in your mind is Beomgyu's touch, Beomgyu's smell, Beomgyu's warmth.  

“Beomgyu, Beomgyu, Beomgyu!” You cry as your whole body convulses in his arms, yet it doesn't slip from his hold for even a second, and when you finally come down from your quaking orgasm, you're still in his hold but half of the bath water had spilled over the edge, exposing your skin to the chilly room air–a stark contrast to the searing heat of Beomgyu’s hard cock pressing against you lower back as he tries to subtly jerk himself off against you, and it's your turn to hold him in the palm of your hand.

His quiet desperation brings even more memories to mind, memories of prince Beomgyu needily humping you in frantic attempt to get off, secret exclamations of desire and forbidden love whispered hotly on the skin of your neck or ears or breasts as he mounts you like a dog in heat in a way that he makes sure to tell you is not befitting the image of a prince like him. 

But when you turn around, it's your Beomgyu you see there, a regular college student on the surface, though nothing about him is regular. Is he really even your Beomgyu? The image of him in front of you shimmering and wavering between the Beomgyu you know and prince Beomgyu, and you're not sure which one is real anymore.

“You’re perfect.” He tries to reach out to you but you put his hands on either edge of the bathtub. “Keep those there.”

“Baby–” He starts to whine but shuts up when you grab his submerged cock and start jerking him off roughly. More water splashes out of the tub but neither of you care. He'll clean it up after anyway and you don’t even feel guilty about it. 

“Please, please.” He cries pathetically as if you're the one in control.

“Please what?” You ask curiously as if you're expecting him to suddenly reveal something that would make sense of the tangled mess you've made of him in your mind. 

“Anything.” 

You snort. “God, if someone is to see you like this they'd think I never touch you. You've been cumming every day, in my hand, my mouth, my ass, my cunt, on my face, my tits, my back…”

“It's not enough.” He shakes his head, looking delirious. “Never enough.”

“Well if it's not enough then what's the point of me doing this?” You taunt, going to pull your hand away from him but his own hands quickly fly out to grab yours and put it back on his cock as his whole body springs forward to get close to you as if he could glue his body to yours so you can't escape. “No! Please!”

“Get your hands off me.” You growl and he quickly puts his hands back on the tub's edge, trying to appease you so you wouldn’t deny him, but it’s not enough. He has to feel as helpless as he makes you feel and so you push him away roughly, his head almost hitting the ceramic as his back meets the wall of the tub. 

“You can't keep your hands to yourself, huh?” You purr, raising your free hand to his chest to play with his nipples, making his back arch and his fingers turn as white as the ceramic they're gripping onto while your other hand twists over his cock. 

“Sorry.”

God, you hate hearing that false word fall out of his mouth. You're pretty sure Beomgyu has never been sorry for anything in his life. 

“Are you?” You challenge, squeezing your hand around the head of his cock tightly. “Are you really sorry?” 

“Princess?” He cocks his head to the side innocently, as if he has no idea what you’re talking about. God, how he drives you crazy. “Please, I’ve been good.” 

Has he? You can’t tell anymore. He's poisoned your mind so much you can't think straight. 

You sigh, jerking him off fast, hard, knowing that the only thing that can soothe your troubled mind right now is watching your tormenter–your everything–fall apart in your grip just like he had done to you over and over again. And he doesn't disappoint. 

“Fuck! Oh, gods, I'm so close.” 

“Gods?” You laugh. That’s new. “I'm your only god, baby.”

“Yeah… only you.” He easily agrees with whatever you say, no thoughts behind his big adoring eyes, his body lying limp in the bathtub, only his hips moving to meet your fist everytime it goes down to smack against his pelvis. “Wanna cum for you. Worked so hard for it.”

“You did, didn't you?” You coo, one of your thumbs brushing against his hard nipples while the other teases the slit of his leaking cock. “Worked so hard to take care of me. Just need a little bit of attention in return, don't you?”

He nods eagerly, his lewd unabashed moans echoing all around the small bathroom as his high builds and builds, not daring to snap without your divine order. “Please, please…”

“Poor baby.” You tsk, looking at the man laid out before you and knowing in your heart of hearts that he was far from innocent. 

Rotten. That's the word that comes to mind when you look at him and you can't put your finger on why. But then why does he still look so beautiful to you? 

“Cum for me, love.”

“Yes! Thank you!” He cries out, his cum shooting out of his cock and immediately dispersing in the soapy water, tainting it like he's tainted you but you can’t get yourself to get away from it, the same way you can't get yourself to get away from him. You're rotten too now.  

“I love you so much.” He slurs as his body sinks into the water. 

“I know.” You do. It's the only thing you can be sure of anymore in the confusing mess that has become your life. That and “I love you too.”

___________________________

“Taehyun, what are you doing here? How did you get this address?” Your slow dreamy life comes into sudden disturbing focus when you see the one person you've been hiding from standing right outside your door. But your barrage of questions can't stop him from pushing past you into the apartment and back into your life. 

“I got your address from Yujin.” He explains once he's in and you look around in worry. He shouldn't be here. You'd barely managed to convince Beomgyu not to hurt him when he found out you had kissed him. What is he going to do if he finds him alone with you in the apartment while he's at work? You can't even let yourself think about it. It's too terrifying. You need to get him out. Why the fuck would Yunjun give him your address? Is she doing this to get back at Beomgyu? To get back at you? 

“Please leave. Beomgyu is going to lose his shit if he sees you.” You tell him as if that's not the understatement of the century. But Taehyun doesn’t appear to be phased. 

“I know. He is very dangerous. That's why I'm here.” He tells you, calmly acknowledging your statement that would have anyone else possibly running for the hills. “I have to tell you something. I think you were right. I think the dreams are memories.” 

You freeze in your spot, all thoughts of getting him out of here suddenly put on the backburner. What the hell is he saying? Has he gone crazy too?

You have secretly, shamefully, been harboring that rotten suspicion for a while now. The dreams just all felt too real to just be dreams. Nothing that vivid, that detailed, could just be the product of a slumbering mind, right? Besides, it didn't even stop at the dreams. You were having these “recollections” even while you're awake now, but you don’t dare believe them to be real memories because what would that mean for you? Best case scenario is that you've officially lost your mind and worst case scenario is that all of those dreams and images actually are real and Beomgyu really did all those awful things. You did all those awful things for him. 

“What makes you say that?” You gulp, asking cautiously. This feels like one of those moments that could forever change the trajectory of your life and maybe if you keep a cool safe distance away, you'd come out of this unscathed.

“I have been having more of them too. They have been plaguing my every sleeping moment, my every waking moment. They’re driving me insane–” He looks up at you and his expression almost knocks you off your feet. You know that look all too well. You see it in the mirror every day now. It’s the look of someone feeling themselves going mad and hoping that they really are because the alternative is just too cruel to consider–all the grief, all the blood, all the loss. No, it’s simply too much to bear, and you can hear the same torment you’re running from twisting his voice as he goes on. “Memories of us together… we were married in your dreams, right?”

His face is afflicted with an agony so raw it lashes against your skin in thick, bitter strokes that leave you gasping.  You never told him that. How did he know that? Okay, calm down. Breathe. This doesn't mean anything. He just had a lucky guess. Nothing more. 

“Yeah.” You admit slowly, watching him cautiously as if waiting for a further attack from him, and he doesn't disappoint. 

“You left me for him.” He says, an accusation in his voice that makes you falter. He is speaking to you as if he’s now fully convinced that the dreams are true, as if you really were married and you’d left him for Beomgyu. 

“No!” It feels strange defending something that a possibly fictional, possibly real version of you may have done because she's not you!--or is she? You didn’t leave him but you did. You don’t have to answer for her crimes but you feel compelled to try to anyway. “I thought I was saving you.”

But that just makes him angry, his fury so deep it couldn’t possibly have just been born today. It feels ancient, the edge of it sharpening over centuries. “Don't lie. That's not why you left.”

“It is. I swear. I just wanted to save you. I wanted to save everyone.” Your words sound insane even to your own ears but they're tumbling out of your mouth before you can even fully process them, again feeling compelled to defend yourself. You don’t even understand half of what you’re fighting about–your only aid in this battle are half-formed images of a fabled previous life you don’t want to remember.

“You’re lying to yourself.” He spits out bitterly, his visage taking on a hue that makes him look much older than he actually is–that makes him look like the Taehyun from your dreams, afflicted by loss and death and forced to grow up way too quickly. And here he is again, aging years in the blink of an eye. “You knew how crazy he was. You knew he wouldn't stop and you didn’t care. You just wanted to go back to him. You never fucking cared.”

“I didn't. I swear to god–” The way his conversation was heading brings a fresh wave of nauseating deja vu crashing onto you. You shake your head, trying to dispel whatever Folie a deux you both seem to have fallen victim to. You need to pull the plug on this insanity before you completely lose your mind. 

“Forget it. This is insane. Those memories aren't real. We're just working ourselves up into a frenzy. My brain has obviously sprung up all that shit out of my anxiety regarding me and Beomgyu's relationship, and after I told you about them, you started dreaming them up too.” You narrow your eyes at him as you attempt to rationalize your way through this mess, “Or you're taking advantage of my obvious mental instability to convince me to ditch my boyfriend to be with you.”

That must be it. It's the only explanation that makes sense and you try to hold onto it like a woman drowning, but Taehyun refuses to let you. 

“For fuck's sake, woman, wake up!” He grabs you by the shoulder and shakes you as if he could forcefully shake off the walls of denial you’ve been trying to build around yourself. “It's me. We've been reincarnated again for some sick reason and we're forced to relive everything we've done again, just in a different setting. Maybe it's a punishment. Maybe it's a test to see if we would choose differently. Choose right.”

“And the right choice is you?” You ask and he scoffs, looking affronted by the mere idea of there being a question about it. “It clearly isn't him. After all he's done to you. He imprisoned you. He raped you… He killed you.”

He looks as if he doesn't fully realize what he'd said until he’d said it, as if the returning memory was compelling his tongue to speak before it's been fully realized in his brain, and as the memory passes through him to you, you suddenly feel a sharp, piercing pain in your abdomen. It only lasts for a second but it draws the breath right out of you. For that second it feels like your soul is being carried away on that breath and you panic at the terrifyingly all too familiar sensation of dying. No. No. No.

But just as suddenly as that breath was exhaled, it was shoved back into your chest when Taehyun covers the phantom wound with his hand. Your own hands quickly clasp around his, and your eyes widen in a gruesome realization. 

“He killed our baby.” You whisper, your face suddenly wet with tears you didn't realize were there. Oh god. You're the dead ex-girlfriend, aren't you? There was never anyone else. It was always you.

“He did. He wasn’t going to let anyone have you if he couldn’t. Even your own child.” Taehyun says, allowing a painful melancholy back into his voice. “So he stole you from the world.” 

You and Taehyun slowly and fearfully piece together this traumatic past life you seemed to share, some details you had already recalled before while others were triggered by Taehyun’s own mad recollections. It's not a perfect story. There are many gaps in it but the main frame is enough. 

You were a Lady at Prince Beomgyu's royal palace. You loved each other but couldn't be together because he was betrothed to someone else, couldn't even tell eachother. But Beomgyu was secretly plotting to keep you bound to him, and it was working until Taehyun came into the picture and you developed an interest in each other. Beomgyu didn’t like that and he went crazy and… he hurt you. That pushed you to finally escape from him and marry Taehyun but your marriage wasn't perfect and Beomgyu took advantage of that. He threatened the lives of thousands, including Taehyun, if you didn’t go back to him. Taehyun told you not to but you did. You thought you'd be saving him and everyone else but you had just stupidly walked into Beomgyu's trap. He never intended to let Taehyun live. And when you finally realized your mistake, when you saw Taehyun's life on the line, you acted in a moment's frenzy to save him, plunging your knife right into Beomgyu's heart and ultimately succumbing to a fatal wound he dealt to you in response with a kiss and a promise that he'd find you again.

And he did. Gods help you, he did. 

It's a horrific story, disgusting, cruel, and you don’t want to believe it. It can't be. 

“We have to go. We have to leave before he comes back.” Taehyun pulls on your arm but you hesitate, automatically digging your heels on the ground and not letting him move you. He stares at you in shock. “You can't be serious? You're choosing him again after everything?”

You shake your head, panicking. “No, Taehyun–”

You want to tell him that you haven't chosen anything. You just don't know enough to make a decision. You still don't know if any of this is actually real or if you're both just mad. Even if your brain tells you it is, your heart tells you that it can't be true. This is ridiculous. Beomgyu loves you. He would never do this to you. And who is to say that he even knows any of this himself? What if he's just like you and Taehyun were at first, only feeling an inexplicable sense of love for you and hatred towards Taehyun that he doesn’t even understand the source of? Is that why he had been acting so irrational and scared to lose you? Because he has all these emotions he can't explain? 

And what about Taehyun? Yes, you had something maybe in a past life but does any of that translate into right now? Can you abandon Beomgyu and the real love you have for each other in order to build a relationship based just on memories of a previous life that ended tragically for all of you? Did that past Taehyun even love you?

You want to explain all of that to him but you don't even get the chance to before you're interrupted by the sound of keys turning in the front door's lock. 

Your eyes widen and fear grips your heart. Despite what you tell yourself about none of this being real, you suddenly fear for Taehyun's life. 

“Hide. Please, hide.” You try to tell him but he's not listening to you. He has no intention of hiding and you can see that when he grabs your hand and pulls you behind him roughly. 

When Beomgyu steps into the house and sees you, all doubt in your heart about the memories being false dash out of the room with the first word out of his mouth. 

“Again?” He asks coldly, viciously. “I knew from the moment you met him that this would happen. Even centuries later you can’t fucking help but act like a slut when he's around, huh?”

“You knew.” You croak, throat closing up to try to prevent that breath from escaping once again, fear shaking you to your core. “You always knew.”

You were too kind. Too stupid. He wasn't acting crazy because he loves you so much and was afraid of losing you. He wasn't acting crazy because he didn't understand his own feelings. He was acting crazy because he's done this before and he’ll be damned if he lets you ruin it again. 

"Of course I did. I have to find you every time.” 

“Every time?” The shaking spreads to your heart, weakening it, throwing off its rhythm. Your poor, naive heart that doesn’t know what to do with itself when the one person it loved and trusted in the world has been lying to it this whole time. “This happened more than once before?”

He laughs cruelly. “This, something else, the details differ but it's always us. Me and you.” He turns to Taehyun with rage that could hardly be contained in the small room. “Not him. I haven't seen him since that first time. The gods really wanted to piss me off this time.”

“Or maybe they wanted her to finally break free from you.” Taehyun's grip tightens around you–to hold you back or to protect you, you don’t know–something that Beomgyu doesn’t fail to notice, his upper lip curling in a snarl, clearly displeased that Taehyun even dares to touch you. But before he can act out on his rage, you speak up. 

“So what? We just keep getting reincarnated and reliving this misery over and over again?” You’re surprised he hears you when you can hardly hear yourself. 

“You do. Not me. I was only reincarnated once, right after we died. I spent many lifetimes in your tomb, mourning you. I thought that was what I was brought back for and I would've stayed there forever but I was drawn out by the gods who wanted me to realize they’ve sent you back again and again for me to find you. It's amusing to them, to see me suffer and lose you.” 

He knew from the beginning. He knew lifetimes ago and he lied to you from the start, made you feel crazy for having these dreams, tried to gaslight you into believing it was all in your head all while working to put distance between you and everyone else so he can have you all to himself. How long was he going to keep up the facade for? Is this what he did every time or does he always come up with new cruel and unusual ways to break you just like he did that very first time? 

“Why?” You ask lowly and he stares at you in confusion, not understanding the question so you gather up your strength and speak louder, more clearly. You need to finally get answers. “Does it ever work?” 

“Sometimes it does. For a little while anyway, before the gods decide we've had it good for too long and tear us apart again.” He scowls, blasphemously enraged at those mythically evil gods. “At first I thought they were giving us second chances but they're just laughing at us, watching us get together before ripping us apart like a child ripping the wings off a fly.”

“Then why let them? Why keep doing it?” You ask again and Beomgyu directs his anger at you. 

"Would you have been able to have all those memories of us, not just of our first life but every single one after, all these fragments of our infinity together and just ignore it and move on, just pretend like you don't know the other half of your soul is out there waiting for you to complete them?"

You shake your head. No. You've fallen for it before you'd even regained your memories. You can't imagine how brutal it is on him. God, to imagine him scouring the earth looking for you only to lose you again and again in horrific ways… it made your soul ache for him despite everything. 

"I have to keep trying. We were so close this time. We were fucking happy. I worked so hard to make everything perfect for us but you had to ruin it. You had to let him in.” He growls at Taehyun who was unimpressed with his entire confession. 

“If my mere existence was enough to ruin your happiness then maybe it wasn't real from the start.” He challenges, not letting you go for a second. He'd learned his lesson. His hold on you hurts, turns your hand cold and blue but you dare not protest. “You've lied to her, manipulated her and blinded her until she bowed to your twisted will and even then she was still struggling against you every step of the way. If you really loved her, you would let her go. I bet she was the most happy during those lifetimes when you were under the ground in her tomb where you belong. You killed her. You deserve to mourn her for eternity. You don't deserve to get a second chance with her.” 

“It doesn’t matter what I deserve. I know she wants to be with me, which is more than I could say about you.” Beomgyu’s face twists in a sadistic grin. “Despite everything, she still can’t live without me. You know, because you've tried to make her. She never loved you and it kills you to know it.” 

That works. Taehyun lets go of your hand and lunges at him. Beomgyu is on the ground before the scream leaves your tense throat. He didn’t stand a chance. You’ve seen Taehyun fight before, and Beomgyu–immortal being that he is–still is not able to weather the flurry of punches Taehyun’s trained fists are raining down at him. 

Taehyun pummels him to the ground right in front of your eyes and you can’t bear to see it. Yes, Beomgyu has hurt you. Yes, he has been lying to you and manipulating you all this time. Yes, he's done unthinkable things for you, to you, but you still can't just stand there and watch him get hurt. You're sick of all the pain. You want it to be different this time. Maybe that's the way to break free of this curse. 

You try to tear them apart but Taehyun is like an unstoppable force that has been dying to be unleashed. You cry and pull and plead but he doesn’t stop, slowly reducing the love of your life into a bloody, gory crime scene before your very eyes and you don't know what to do to stop him. 

It’s only when you see the glint of a knife as he pulls it out of his pocket that you’re able to finally do something to stop the carnage, and you throw yourself over Beomgyu in order to protect him. 

“Please!” You cry out, inconsolable. “Please, stop hurting him.”

Please, don’t take him from me again. You hear her sob from deep inside your soul, getting louder and louder by the second as she struggles to finally break through the rusty door of memory and time. 

“He has to die.” Taehyun growls, looking crazed. “He won't stop until he’s dead.”

No. No more death. That can’t be how it ends again. 

“I can't let you hurt him.” You sob, shielding Beomgyu with your life. You don’t know if this Taehyun would kill you–You don’t know if past Taehyun would’ve killed you–but you can’t let him do this. 

“I knew you would choose me, princess.” You hear Beomgyu’s muffled voice from beneath you and look down to see a demented, bloody grin on his face before you and Taehyun are thrown off him. 

He does it so easily, leaving you to gape at him in shock. If he could’ve done this from the start then why did he let Taehyun beat him up? 

You watch in horror as the tables quickly turn and in the blink of an eye it’s Taehyun that is on the floor and Beomgyu is on top of him with his hands around his throat, choking the life out of him. No matter how hard Taehyun tries to push him off, he does not budge. 

You try too. Beomgyu was never heavy, even you are usually able to throw him around if you really wanted to, but now he is like a rock that can’t be moved. You rip at his clothes and nothing. You claw at his skin and nothing. Nothing happens except the slow snuffing of Taehyun’s breath under him. 

“No. Why are you doing this?” You wail, tears burning on your cheeks. “Just stop. Please. I can’t lose either of you again.” 

But you should’ve known better. You should’ve known that would only make Beomgyu angrier. "This is why he has to die. We were happy before he came along and we’ll be happy again once he’s gone.” 

You can see Taehyun’s face turn blue as he struggles and fails to push Beomgyu off him, the only sound coming from him are his thrashing limbs, no air able to escape from under Beomgyu’s death grip. 

The view is enough to suffocate even you and you quickly say everything you could think of that might persuade Beomgyu to spare Taehyun, even if spelt your own doom. “Don't hurt him. I'll go with you. I swear I will go with you and I won't try to fight you ever again. Just let him go. Let him go and I’ll be all yours.” 

“Your promises mean nothing to me when you’ve broken them so easily before. It doesn’t matter. You’re mine anyway.” He answers, unimpressed and you shake your head. “I will fight you every day if you hurt him. I will never forgive you. You may have me physically but my heart won’t be yours anymore. You’ve fucked up so much Beomgyu. You owe me this.” 

He grunts, his hands tightening around Taehyun’s throat for a second–the poor man’s face almost turning purple now–before he loosens his grip enough to allow a thin, raspy breath of air into Taehyun’s lungs. 

“What does it matter anyway? He'll be reborn again. Away from us.” He spits out angrily, his fingers twitching–dying to resume their vice grip on Taehyun’s throat but thankfully holding back.  

"It matters to me. If you want me to let you have me, you’ll spare him.” 

To your surprise, it is not Beomgyu but Taehyun who speaks up, his voice so uncharacteristically weak coming out of his almost crushed windpipe. “Let him kill me. Maybe then I'll be rid of you.”

The coldness in his voice freezes the air in your lungs, forming jagged icicles that tear you apart from the inside. 

“You've made a fool of me too many times before. I will not live out another life as a fool. Free me of you.”

You hold back your tears. “Taehyun…” 

“You'll never escape from him because you deserve him.” 

Beomgyu looks torn between his fury at Taehyun’s vicious attack on you, and his relief that he’s ruining whatever goodwill you’d built up behind his back, but he seems to settle on the latter, a slow unkind smile warping his lips. 

“See what he is? He was never the better option. He would never love you like I do, unconditionally and forever. Let me kill him. It will do us all good.” His voice turns fearsome on that last appeal and you struggle to remain unshaken in the face of it. Yes, you deserve this. If all the little and big pieces of your past life that have come back to you are real then you deserve to live in a world bound to the monster you nurtured and hated by the one man who tried to break you free from him. 

“Let him live.” You insist, fighting both men for Taehyun’s life now. “Let him live or I’ll make sure that all that you’ve worked for this time will have been for naught. You may as well kill me after him because you’ll never be able to have me in this lifetime again.” 

Beomgyu bares his teeth at you like a feral dog, unhappy about your demands of mercy for the sake of the man who in his eyes was the reason he lost you–and by the sounds of it is intent on doing it again.

“If you keep me alive I will hunt you both down until I kill you.” He warns and Beomgyu looks at you in a silent plea, like a child begging to pour salt on a slug, but you shake your head at him. 

Do you not care about his threat? Of course you do. Do you not believe him? Of course you do. But just like before, you've got no one to blame but yourself and Beomgyu–Beomgyu because he forces the strings of fate to weave to his will and bring you together no matter how ugly and knotted it ends up making your lives, and you for always stringing along innocent people into it, tying them up into a mess that isn’t their own. 

“Come on, Beomgyu.” You put your hand out to him. “Let’s go.” 

You see the vitriol in his eyes soften at the extended hand. You know he wants to take it. He wants nothing more than to take your hand and disappear forever with you–Taehyun is an afterthought to him, this entire life just a distraction in the grand scheme of things–and so he does. He reaches out to take your hand, but not before he grabs Taehyun’s head, smacking it against the hard ground and knocking him out. 

You gasp at the violent action, withdrawing your hand in shock but Beomgyu doesn’t let you, reaching out to clasp it tightly in his own hand, reminding you that once you give him something, you can never have it back. “Beomgyu!”

He rolls his eyes, standing up and pulling you flush against his body. “He’ll live. Might take some time to recover, or better yet he’ll be dumber for it, but he’ll live just like you wanted. Now forget about him and just focus on me.” He grabs your chin and turns your gaze away from the unconscious Taehyun and towards his own face. “You have to hold up your end of the bargain now princess or you'll pay with his life.” 

Of course. Even this small act of kindness couldn't be selfless. He only did it in order to ensure your good behavior. As long as you live, you’ll have to appease Beomgyu's demented whims or Taehyun’s life will be on the line. A deal with the devil.

Your lips tremble and you ask yourself. Is this really what you deserve after all? Were the sins of your past life so offensive to the gods that the only way to pay for them is through eternal damnation with your monster? Was there no hope of salvation for you? And would you have taken it if there was? 

“Where are you taking me?” You ask in a shaky voice as he pulls you after him and away from the flat, leaving every part of this temporary life behind. 

"Somewhere no one will ever find us.”

__________________________________

The journey to this place in the middle of nowhere lasts longer than you could’ve imagined, longer than you could stay awake, that it feels like he was really taking you somewhere at the edge of the universe where no one can reach you ever again. You doze off as the adrenaline that had kept you going until now leaves your body, and Beomgyu is more than happy to let you rest in the backseat of his car as he takes you through dark remote areas you wouldn’t have been able to keep track of even if you were awake. 

When you finally reach your destination and groggily step out of the car with his help, you almost think you’re still dreaming, because in front of you is a massive mansion you’ve never seen or heard off before. All the way around was nothing but empty woods, the imposing and impressive structure seemingly completely cut off from the rest of the world. 

You look at Beomgyu in shock, the sleep flying off your eyes at the unexpected sight. 

Beomgyu grins–or at least attempts to through the swelling of his lips, his bloody teeth barely visible underneath. Oh, your poor beautiful boy. He looks like a mess. “Do you like it, princess?” 

“H-How?” You ask cluelessly as he pulls you towards the entrance. “Being immortal has its perks. I knew I needed to make myself a small fortune to show off whenever you were ready to come back to me.” 

You’re in for a bigger shock when you finally step inside the mansion, because everyone and everything here–all the decorations, furniture, servants and household staff gathered around to greet you–are all styled in a way you only recognize from your dreams. The entire mansion looks as if Beomgyu had plucked it straight out of your first life. 

And yes, there are people there. You had been fully expecting this grand building to be running on magic or something ridiculous like that. After all, if immortality and vengeful gods are real, what makes the thought that stupid? But no, there are people here and you honestly can’t tell if they belong to this era or if Beomgyu somehow stole them from your previous life. 

“Welcome home, my lady.” A woman who you presume to be the head of the household staff bows towards you. You just stare at her, mouth agape. She didn’t look like she was wearing a costume or putting on an act. She looked exactly how you remember the staff at the old palace looked like.  

And what did she say? Home? Is this really home? It looked like it–definitely smaller than Beomgyu’s old palace despite how big and opulent it is by modern standards– but you’re scared by how your guards are already going down by the familiar sight. 

Beomgyu nudges you as the woman straightens back up and stares at you in expectation. 

“Uh, yes, thank you.” You chew on your lip and Beomgyu chuckles lightly. “You’ll have to forgive my princess. This is all a bit of a shock for her. I am sure once she goes back to her old self, she’ll be much more mannerly.” 

“Ah, yes, of course. Silly me.” The woman laughed graciously in turn, “The poor dear must be exhausted from all that travel. I know we have all been waiting for her to finally arrive but I suppose our welcome party will have to wait for the morning when she’s properly rested.”

They have been waiting? They knew you were coming. Beomgyu was always going to win, wasn't he? It was just a matter of time. He always does.

“That’s right. She can hardly stay upright from the fatigue.” He pulls you towards him, and you realize belatedly that he’s holding you up by the waist. “Pray tell me that our bath is ready.”

“Of course, my prince. And a fresh change of clothes too.” She chirps happily, proud of her immaculate service. “It’s all waiting for you upstairs.” 

“Wonderful.” Beomgyu turns towards you and smiles, “Let's head to our chambers, love, shall we?”

Your spacious bedroom has an almost equally large ensuite attached to it where some servants were still fussing about, putting extra oils and salts into your bath to make it gentler and more calming, before Beomgyu dismisses them and goes about his familiar habit of bathing both you and himself. You barely register any of it, too preoccupied by the overstated luxury of the place around you to pay much attention to him undressing you and pulling you into the large tub–the water a perfect temperature, the smell heavenly, his touch both gentle and purposeful as he attempts to cleanse you of your previous life. 

You feel both out of place and right at home, the two very different sides of you pushing and pulling as you look around the room. The way this bathroom is decorated and even the products he’s using look and feel more expensive than your entire life had been so far, and Beomgyu appears well aware of that fact and quite pleased with it too–happy that he could finally show off what he’s been dying to for so long. You always had a feeling he wanted to shower you in the finer things and you never understood or accepted it because you thought he was just another broke college student making stupid rash decisions in order to impress his love, but now you get it. 

He makes sure to explain to you the source of everything he’s using and the rare ingredients that go into it, trying to appeal to that old part of you that had apparently yearned for spoils and riches. Of course these weren’t just simple shower products that normal plebs use. These were made specifically for you, just waiting for your arrival. He points out every aspect of the bathroom and the room attached to it that seems to be catching your eye at the moment and tells you how he chose them and where he got them from–how he chose the golden and brown accents because they’re reminiscent of the sunflowers you so adore–how he had the ceiling decorated in shining stars to resemble the stars you would see when you laid in each other’s arms in the palace gardens. It was all so meticulously planned and decorated just for you. 

Is it really for you though? It may have been for a past you but are you still her? Can this extravagance be for you when you never even realized that anyone would ever care to spend so much money on a place that everyone else uses only to get rid of their waste or wash off the dirt and grime off their bodies? 

But as Beomgyu continues to flaunt it all to you, you realize that even a room as ordinary as a bathroom is another space where the rich and powerful can show off their wealth. It’s a room where they go to shed the filth of the outside world away and relish in their highly curated luxury and beauty just as Beomgyu is doing right now–diligently scrubbing that real world off you and washing it down the drain until this fantasy mansion looks like it could be where you belong. 

If just the bathroom was hard for you to wrap your head around, you can’t even begin to describe how lavish the connected bedroom is, but one thing that catches your eye amidst the exuberance of it all is the portrait in the middle of the wall facing you. It’s a portrait of you and Beomgyu, or rather prince Beomgyu and the person you were back then. He is standing behind you in all his royal garb and you’re in front of him dressed in the finest silks and jewelry money can buy, shining like his most prized possession as one of his hands rests on your shoulder and another is seen wrapped around your waist possessively.  

“Do you like it, princess?” He asks after he dries you off with the softest towel you’ve ever felt on your skin, his hands almost mirroring the portrait as his slightly bloody lips follow the curve of your neck, not caring if he leaves small crimson streaks on your skin. “Does the place suit your taste?” 

“It’s…” You utter slowly, eyes jumping around the room as Beomgyu stares at you with hopeful anticipation, waiting for the realization of all his effort, but as you say your next words, his expression falls. “It’s a lot.” 

“A lot?” He scoffs, offended. “The you I know would never say such a word.” 

You gulp. “Well maybe that person isn’t here anymore.” 

Why would you say that? Why would you purposefully upset him when he’s shown you time and time again what he’s capable of? It’s a lie of course. She has always been there deep inside, slumbering but not dead, just waiting for him to come back and awaken her. 

“Not there anymore?” He growls, pushing you onto the impossibly soft bed and climbing over you, not as gentle as he had been so far. “Bullshit. You just need a little reminding.”

He kisses you roughly, angrily, with the weight of centuries of longing that had turned sharp and tender. You can’t help but respond back. Despite your words, she claws her way out of the abyss at his beckoning. 

“Why do you always have to make me work for it?” He growls, nipping at your neck while his fingers find their way between your legs, the easy practiced way he can get you dripping no longer such a mystery to you. He has honed it over lifetimes. “Why do you love torturing me?” 

You? Torturing him? He has controlled you in this life and the first one and probably all others in between. He has manipulated and hurt you in countless ways and yet you’re the one hurting him? 

“Because you deserve it.” You breathe out mournfully, “We deserve it.” 

His swollen lips curl in distaste. “I don’t care. As long as I got you, I don't give a shit about anything else. Let me be damned for all of eternity as long as you're mine.” He kisses you again, the metallic bitter taste of blood combined with his natural sweetness so fitting for him, your corrupted angel. “Always mine.” 

He pushes his fingers inside you and your pussy takes him easily, knowing who it belongs to before even you did. 

The way he has you on your back with your legs open and your feet in the air is a scene you’re sure has recurred over and over again across your centuries with him, repeatedly laying his claim to your pliant body until you can no longer rebuke him, your body knowing what to expect now even if your mind still struggles to catch up. 

You feel Beomgyu pull on your hand to wrap it around his cock, the silent order from him not needing to be said out loud for your body to start acting, your grip on him turning firm as your hand moves in that practiced way over his cock that has his jaw hanging open and his back arching into your touch, his eyes hungrily feasting on the sight of you splayed open and ready for the taking.  But he waits, letting both your desires build up to an unbearable heat. 

“Fuck, Beomgyu… just do it already.” You hiss, sick of the wait. He knows you're his. You've always been and always will be so he should just get it over with. But of course Beomgyu can't let it be that simple. He has to force you to say it. He has to rub your face in it so you won't dare disobey or deny him again. 

“Is my princess in there?” He cocks his head to the side, his thumb flicking your swollen clit, making you bite down on your lip. You can’t bear the way he looks at you. It makes your skin burn. 

“Yes.” A few hot tears fall down the sides of your face. Why bother fighting it anymore? He has won. 

“Does she want me?” He continues, pulling his fingers out and making you whimper at the emptiness as he takes your hand off him so he can replace his fingers at your entrance with the head of his cock, hot and thick, taunting you with what he could give you if you bend to his will. “Do you want me?”

He leans down to press his forehead against yours, locking eyes with you and looking right into your core, forcing you to face him as you give in. 

You let out a pathetic cry. “Yes. I want you. I will always want you.”

“Good girl.” He pushes inside you, letting out a heavy sigh of relief, like coming home after being lost for so long. “I missed you so much. I always knew you'd come back to me.”

He did. This entire mansion is a testament to it. And so you lie there on your back and take it, getting fucked open by Beomgyu, his beat up face not taking away from his beauty. If anything, his bruised and bloody visage contrasts with the backdrop of the elaborate and extravagant ceiling above him and serves to drive home the lengths he’s willing to go–the ugliness and horror he’s willing to let come pass so he can have you, so he can steal you away and keep you as a good, pliant fucktoy for the prince who had always been greedy for more than his fair share. 

“Maybe I should thank the fool for getting you back to me.” He murmurs, making your eyes jump from the glittering chandelier above him to his sparkling eyes that cannot be dimmed even by the blackness around them, that have only been put off once by death itself before he revolted against it and came back for you. “Getting you to remember us.” 

You frown. You know what he means. You were together before Taehyun came into the picture but not fully, not the way he wanted you to be. But now he's slowly getting back the you he's always been chasing, the you he may have only reunited with a few times over centuries. You understand that. Still that doesn't mean he can disparage Taehyun, and it doesn’t mean that you want to be reminded of him. 

“Don't speak of him.” You don't want to hear it. You're here, aren't you? He won and you’re here. He should just let you forget what that has meant for you. 

He smiles, more than happy to not speak another word of Taehyun ever again, and rewards you by bending down to kiss you as he fucks his cock ruthlessly in and out of you, fully devoted to helping you forget. 

“Fuck, I really missed you.” He groans against your lips before pulling back so he can feast his eyes on you. “Now that I have you back I don't think I can give you a break until I show you just how much I missed you. Gotta make up for all our lost time.” He drills his cock faster and harder into you, the wet sounds of flesh meeting flesh ringing around the room so loudly you're worried that all other occupants of the house can also hear it. “Not gonna rest until all your holes are filled to the brim with my cum and you remember just how much I love you.” 

“Gyu…” You whine at his loud promises, fearing the rest of the household is hearing his filth. “Keep it down.”

He laughs, fucking you harder. “Why should I? Everyone here knows who you belong to. They know their master will be fucking his princess every night. Every day. They may as well get used to it now because I don’t intend on hiding any of it.”

“What?” Your cheeks flush bright, surely he is not suggesting what you think he’s suggesting. 

“This isn't our old palace, princess. I don't have to hide what is mine anymore and I expect you not to either. And if that means they can hear or even see me claiming what is mine then so be it. It’s what I always wished I could do anyway.” 

Yes, you know that very well–images of Prince Beomgyu’s attempts at inappropriate touches in public flitting through your brain. You shake your head, whining. “Not hiding, just common decency…” 

“Fuck that. Gonna show the whole universe who this pussy belongs to.” He growls, and you feel one of his hands move between your bodies to reach your pussy, his fingers easily rubbing your soaked lips and making your thighs tense up. 

“Beomgyu!” You cry at the sudden spike in pleasure, your pussy clenching around him when you get no escape from it, his hips incessantly thrusting against yours and barreling you towards what you know will be a blinding orgasm. “It’s too much.” 

He shakes his head, fingers going faster. “Not enough. Never enough. Now cum for me, princess. Make a mess on my cock.” 

As if you could have stopped it even if you wanted to. Your orgasm causes your whole body to seize up–your thighs crash around his thin waist, your pussy spasming on his twitching cock, your nails digging down into the flesh of his back as you throw your head back and cry out loudly, the irony of you asking for decency not lost on your grinning lover. 

“That’s it. Good girl. Now take it. Take all of me.” He grunts, spending himself inside you, the first of the many times he promised you he would. The first of your lifetime together. “I love you. I love you so much.” 

In the heat of it all, it takes you a second to respond, a second too long for Beomgyu’s liking, and he grabs your face and makes you lock eyes with him. “I love you.” He repeats, continuing to fuck his cum into you as he waits for your response. 

“I-I love you too.” You gasp out, your nails digging even deeper into his skin, begging him to give you a break, the overstimulation ruthlessly gripping your own flesh. “I love you. Please.” 

He finally slows down. It takes him a minute to completely stop, and you can see that he didn’t really want to but he does iit for you. “Did you miss me?” He asks, doubt and insecurity plaguing his swollen features, silently asking you to put his troubled soul at ease. He may be a cruel and calculating being sent back to punish you for your sins, but underneath it all he’s still your lovesick boy, your prince whose soul yearns for yours, and it would be the cruelest thing of all to deny him that one thing that keeps him from perishing.  

You nod, reaching out weakly to play with his hair, your muscles cut down by fatigue then completely turned to mush by pleasure. “Yes, I did. I missed you even when I didn’t know who I was missing.” 

He smiles gently at that, letting out a small breath of relief that conveys all his vulnerability before bending down to give you a sweet peck on the lips. “I’m right here. I promise to keep reminding you..” 

You don’t know if he’s promising this to himself or to you, but it leads your mind to troubling questions. 

“Are they going to let us stay together?” You frown, suddenly apprehensive at the thought of those cruel gods he’d spoken of. Now that you have him–now that you know exactly what you’ve been missing, it petrifies you to have him ripped away from you again so soon. If you must be damned to be with him, then let you be with him, damn it!

“For this lifetime, maybe.” He answers hoarsely, uncertainly. “Every time you choose me, we're doomed further. They're just letting us rack up the debt.” 

“Choose? Do I ever have a choice?” Your question is innocent, your mind too scrambled to come up with an intentional attack, yet Beomgyu still perceives it as such. 

“Of course you do. You always do. If you reject me enough times, you condemn me to a hell like no other, to being cut away from you forever.” He answers defensively, needing you to know that you’re not blameless in any of this, and you know you’re not because your heart spasms painfully at the thought of being forever severed from him the same way an artery spasms around itself to keep from bleeding out. “If I force you then it's the same. You have to choose me yourself. That's the only way we can be together.”

A sick feeling of realization hits you. You suddenly get it–why he let himself get beat up by Taehyun. He had to wait for you to choose him. If he had just killed Taehyun and took you away, it would’ve tallied up against him. He had to let you doom yourself. Even if all you’ve done to earn damnation is to hesitate when Taehyun asked you to run away. Even if you did it to save Taehyun, it didn’t matter. You choosing him will always be your sin.

He's right. These gods really are wicked and unjust.  

“Do I choose you every time?” You ask in a small, shaky voice and he frowns, your question prompting what must be disturbing memories to spring to his mind. “Not always but most of the time.”

“What happens when I don't? Do you let me?” You hold your breath, anticipating his response. Does he let you be? Does he force you? Does he hurt you? Is every time you choose him similar to this time and your first life? Could you be pardoned by pleading that you’ve been forced into it or is the sheer amount of times you chose him enough to prove your wickedness beyond a shadow of doubt?

“Why are you asking about that now? You chose me in this lifetime. The rest doesn’t matter.” He brushes you off, goosebumps prickling your skin at his diversion. In his nonanswer lies the truth. No, he doesn’t let you. He doesn’t accept defeat. He never did and never will. 

“Doesn’t that bother you, what they’re doing to us? Forcing us into this cycle over and over again?” You push tentatively. “Don't you want to be free?” 

If you stop choosing each other, will you break this infernal cycle? 

“From you? Never.” He tells you with all the certainty and conviction a man can hold, forehead pressed against yours, your breaths intermingling as if your souls are greeting each other. “Darling, if they give me the choice between heaven and you, I would choose you every time. My existence is meaningless without you, salvation is nothing to me if I can't be with you. I would go through this hell again and again just to spend these precious few moments with you. Let me suffer alone for lifetimes if it means I get even one day like this to feel your love once more.”

Your heart swells, different emotions warring inside of it–eternal love for him, happiness that he is so devoted to you that even death can’t keep you apart, anger that he won’t grant you salvation, hate for everything he’s put you through, horror that you will never escape, soul deep fatigue at the weight of it all–but you can’t even begin to untangle them from each other because he doesn’t let you. This is your reunion and he won’t let it be ruined by your doubts. 

Instead, he flips you over, pushing you onto your tummy and pulling your ass up, the sound of him jerking his drenched cock to hardness the only thing you can hear over the ringing in your ears before you feel it breaching your pussy to fill you up again. He lays himself over you, his hips immediately go to work fucking you, making use of every moment he has stolen with you. 

“Gyu…” You whine, mind too fried to care much about the way you’re drooling over the expensive sheets. “Too fast.” 

“I’m sorry, princess. Just wanna make up for all the lost time. I promise I’ll be gentler later, will take care of you so well.” He babbles, the strain of the pleasure he’s getting from your tight walls evident in his voice. “Promise. Just be good for me tonight. Okay?”

You get it–his desperation, his insatiability. This is one of the only few times in his long, lonely existence when he gets to be with you and have you fully in this way–his princess brought back from the unfathomable and untraversable void of death and lost memories for him. And you can’t find it in you to deprive him of you right now. You’ll think about it later. You’ll worry about what this means for your soul’s eternal damnation tomorrow, but for tonight, you’ll let him have you. You’ll let your rotten souls rejoice in the company of their other half. 

“Okay.” You mumble dumbly, letting him take you like a bitch as tears of overstimulation line your lashes and your fingers clutch tightly onto the sheets. You can’t even pretend that it doesn’t feel good, every thrust of his hips, every touch of his hands, every filthy word he says, every load he release inside you–it all shifts and molds you into the wretched lover he’s been searching for, the walls you’ve built up to contain her getting torn down with every position he takes you in until you lay limp with no fight left in you and it’s revealed that there is no one behind those walls. There never was. She was always you. 

When he’s finally has his fill, and you’re more dirty and ruined than you ever were before the bath, he lays down next to you and takes you in his arms–his tight embrace suffocating and hot after what he just put your body through but he doesn’t care. You don’t care. You’re with each other, and that’s how your story always ends and begins. You've been here many times before and you'll be here for many more to come. 

You are at the edge of sleep, almost falling over, when you hear a small sniffle and feel him shake ever so slightly under you. You look up to see his teary eyes and you lift your hand to his face to brush those very costly droplets away. “Why are you crying, baby?”

“I'm just so happy. I missed you so much.” He whimpers, his hold on your getting even tighter. “I love you.”

You know. You couldn’t have understood it so fully before but now that you know a fraction of what he went through to get here, you know that his love is not a mere mortal love. It has defied fate itself and it will live on for eons to come. As long as you're on this earth, he'll stay here to find you, and when you leave, he'll follow you wherever you go, be it heaven or hell or the unfathomable unknown. As long as you're together, his wretched and weary soul can find its peace. 

“I missed you too. And I love you.” 

And I'm sorry it has come to this. I'm sorry I let our once precious love grow so gruesome and hideous that this twisted ending is our only version of happiness. 

_______________________________

A/N: aaaand that's the end of this portion of the story. let me know what you think of this ending. less death than usual lol.

would you rather get tyun's ending (mostly tyun focused) or continue the story from where this chapter leaves off (mostly gyu focused)? Or would you rather a new unrelated story entirely?

Here are some teasers for the two ideas

Tyun's ending:

“Where do we go from here?” You ask defeatedly and he narrows his eyes at you.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you’re clearly angry at me. You don't trust me.” 

“Yeah, and?”

You frown too. How can he not see where the problem lies? “How are we going to stay together like this?”

“Are you thinking of leaving again?” Now he starts getting angry, vindictive, the wrath of the warlord in him cutting through the centuries. 

“No–”

“Because I won't let you. All your bullshit excuses are gone. there is no war. You can't pretend you're going back for the greater good.” His voice is mocking on the last part, and you feel your face heat up.

“It was not an excuse!" You sputter. You can't believe he's saying this to you. "It was real!” 

“You’re my wife. That's what's real and you should've stayed loyal.” He tells you unkindly, not interested in your explanations.

“So you want me to stay just out of principle even if you're just going to hate every second of being together?” It would be funny to see the way he has completely not changed even in this new life if it wasn't so painful.

“Maybe. But I certainly won't be made a fool of again and maybe it's high time you experience some consequences for your actions.”

Gyu's ending continuation:

“How could you do this? How could you be so stupid?” Beomgyu's response to you slipping out for the day seems like a wild overreaction. You know he insists on controlling every aspect of your life so you won't leave him again but going out to walk through the surrounding small village for a few hours could hardly have many consequences. Not when he apparently controls the whole village. 

“You’re overreacting.” You roll your eyes at him but that just makes him freak out more. 

“You don't know what you're risking. He could have found you! He could have taken you away from me!” 

“What are you talking about?” You push him off you. “How would he do that when you know exactly where he is at all times?”

You scoff at him but the scared look on his face makes you falter. “You've lost him, didn't you?”

He doesn't answer you, and you watch his face grow paler. “What is he going to do? You’re immortal.” 

“But I am not all powerful, and there are beings out there more wicked than me.” He tells you fearfully, reaching out to hold you once more. 

Unrelated fic idea:

“Fuck, this feels amazing.” He groans and turns to you, “Can I use him every day?” He asks you cheekily and you grin as you hump against Beomgyu harder. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. Look at him, he’s soaking my hand with precum.” 

You hear Beomgyu garbled moans around Soobin’s cock and you question him. “What’s wrong, baby? Is Binnie using his big cock right this time?” 

Beomgyu whines again and you laugh at him, but Soobin doesn’t find it so funny, not with his cock getting the full brunt of all of Beomgyu’s vocalizations. “Oh god, I’m close. Can I cum on his face?” 

You grin widely. “Of course, Binnie. I’m sure Gyu wants to help out his hyung any way he can. He’s so needy he’ll let you cover his pretty in cum because he knows that will earn him a reward. Isn’t that right, baby?”

Also you can send and ask for any of the characters and I’ll answer as the character

[world-of-aus]

The Arrangement - Chapter 4

Pairing:Mobboss!bucky x Reader

Chapter Warnings: Angsty Dialogue

Authors Note: I apologize immensely for the delay but my mental health has absolutely tanked in the last three weeks. I have fought enough to feel a semblance of normal and was able to put this chapter together. I hope you all enjoy, and look forward to the groveling and ass kissing our guys gonna do. Love, and many thanks, happy reading. 🤍

Bucky thinks he finally understands vividly the phrase ‘so close, yet so far’.

The two of you have been married a little over a week and it’s as if nothing has changed, he still barely see’s you despite the two of you living in the same house. You’re asleep when he arrives, and you’re gone when he wakes, and despite his best efforts, you’ve managed to avoid him at every turn.

He knows there is no excuse you could give him, no longer any reason for you to still be actively avoiding him the way you have. And while he’d give just about anything to have you at least talk to him about what troubles you, to enjoy his presence the way you had the night of your wedding, he doesn’t want to push when your discomfort is so obvious.

So he gives you time.

The first two days he gave you all the space you could have possibly wanted making himself scarce, but as the third came and went as did the days that followed, he found his patience running quite thin, an underlying hurt brewing deep within his chest.

Your close friends had all but advised against his plan to confront you.

‘She just needs time pal, she’s working through a lot of emotions, don't get a hot head because she’s coping in the only way she’s known, let her come to you when she’s ready.’

‘Listen, I’d avoid you too if I had to marry an ugly mug like yours.’

‘She’s conflicted B, she’s had her happiness ripped from her before, she’s been placed in uncomfortable situations without having anyone check up on her well-being, she’s putting herself first for the first time in a very long time. Don’t mess this up, because she won’t be the only one you lose this time around.’

He had taken their words to heart, but that wasn’t going to stop him. He just wanted to talk to you, to feel a sense of normalcy in your shared marriage, he wanted you to be happy, genuinely happy. Bucky wanted you to want to be in this marriage not because it was asked of the two of you but because it was something you genuinely wanted. He knew it was a lot to ask of you, but he would do so anyway.

Or at least he was going to try.

You're finalizing emails to meet with the other heads sometime this week when a knock stills your fingers on the keys and draws your gaze from the screen. You call out for them to enter, you weren’t sure who you were expecting but you hadn’t been expecting him. You only barely manage to conceal your shock.

“Bucky, what are you doing here?” You question unable to help the way your eyes flicker to the time on your desktop, you were certain you had mastered the times you arrived home. Your eyes flicker back to his, “I was just about to make my way to the house I would have met you there.” You lie.

He offers you a smile that barely meets his eyes as he closes the door behind him, your heart races in your chest as he closes the distance between the two of you. You watch as he rounds your desk, he stops to lean against it, his eyes taking you in.

“Is everything okay?” you worry somethings happen, with his sudden appearance.

“I don’t know y/n, is everything okay?” he questions in return.

“Well yes,” you answer, “I was just -” He stops you mid statement, he doesn’t want another lie from you.

“Don’t,” he shakes his head, “don’t do that sweetheart, don’t hide behind another lie, we both know you’ve been actively avoiding me since our first night home after our wedding, and you’ve been doing so since we signed that contract Monday, and somehow that feels worse than when you would cancel on me when I was with your sister, at least then I wasn’t catching on to the lies you made to get out of it.” Your eyes shut on a shaky exhale, “Talk to me,” he pleads, worried you’ll continue to shut him out, “tell me what I can do to make this right. This isn’t what I want for our marriage I don’t want -”

Your eyes snap open, “and you think this is what I want, you think this is how I wanted our marriage to go?” you question looking up at him in disbelief. “There may have been a time where I envisioned vividly what our marriage would be like but – I,” you shake your head unable to speak on that night right now. “I don’t know how to do this,” you continue, “I’m not even sure how to feel because before all of this,” you gesture between you, “I was certain with all finality that you’d be nothing more than someone I called a friend, my brother in law, my sisters husband and I was finally coming to terms with that, I was finally starting to feel okay with it. But just like that night I’ve had the rug ripped out from right under me yet again and I’m scared Bucky! I’m scared that it’ll happen again, that I will get too close, get too comfortable – fall in love – and with a snap of a finger it’ll all be taken away. I can’t go through that again.”

I don’t think I’d survive a second time.

“Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it,” he knows he’s pleading again, but he wants to do right by you, he wants to right his wrongs. “You’re my wife now y/n your happiness is above anyone else’s, I made vows to you that evening, vows I intend to keep. Please tell me how to fix this.”

The tone of his voice almost breaks you, has your resolve crumbling.

“That’s just the thing B, I don’t know.” You answer truthfully. “How do I come out from behind her shadow if everywhere I look it reminds me of her, of everything she had, everything she took from me that should have been mine. I can’t even look at you without being reminded -” you shake your head looking away from his cerulean blues as you press your fingers into your eyes willing away the sting of tears.

You feel your chair being pulled to where he knows kneels before you, gentle hands prying your from your face. You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes, “y/n, sweetheart look at me,” he murmurs, “please.”

Your eyes slip open, to find his waiting gaze, “you are my wife. And ill be damned if you feel anything but. Please give me the chance to give you the marriage you deserve the one you are worthy of, I know you don’t want too, and maybe I shouldn’t ask, but let me try, let me try to be the man that is worthy of you.”

He can see the hesitation in your gaze as you look down at your intertwined hands, “what if she comes back? Decides she wants you back.”

He runs his thumb along your wedding band drawing both your gazes there. “I made a promise to you, I recited my vows to you,” your gazes find one another, “I am faithful to you. My wife.”

“But what if -” he chuckles shaking his head, “There are not what ifs, I’m. Yours.” He’s squeezing your hands in his, “give me a chance, give us a chance, let’s try.”

Your hearts beating like a wild drum in your chest, “Okay. Let’s try.”

[veilantares]

Dark at the End of the Tunnel

Sink into an Anglers grasp in a dream, like the undersea the Night cradles screams

Been inspired by anglerfish recently, so I'm going to try to do at few of these dark background ones back to back and see if I stumble into something new. I noticed I tend to draw characters / mechs / robots in these oneshot illustrations extremely lanky, but I wonder if I made a comic, whether I'd keep these exaggerated proportions - I'm often indecisive about how much mech vs character is in these biomechs, so I usually just don't think about it and draw what feels interesting in the moment.

This gives me a chance to lay down a meandering anecdote - many years ago as a dumb teenager, I'd stay awake every Friday evening / saturday morning till 4 am, hoping to catch my favourite developer, Digital Extremes' weekly devstream. I vividly remember during closed beta in 2012 people would introduce the game as being about futuristic space pirates zipping through corridors - the games fidelity back then was really quite different, one of the early warframes, Ember, even had her whole model redone at one point. Around 2013-2014 ish when I was most excited for these streams, I noticed the games tagline was "ninja's play free", nothing at all to do with pirates - but it was catchy, and you'd see all over in the advertising because of the parkour moves you could pull off in the game were genuinely sick.

Incidentally, both the Defiance MMO (rip) and Destiny 1 (rip) were what warframe tended to be compared to at the time, both released a little after warframes closed beta, neither of which were piratey or ninja-ey , I think probably 80% of the reason for that was that they all had both guns and abilites ... I guess they were also all live services, I don't know if they were called that back then.

Compared to Defiance and Destiny, I was puzzled at what it was about warframes identity that made the aesthetic feel "itself" - and I got my answer on one of those devstreams - the art lead at the time brought out what they called a "faction pitch bible" a one pager showing all the factions they had in the game at the time, each of them with a few lines of flavour text.

What struck me from that faction pitch was that the Tenno / warframes "cyber knight" description was nothing at all to do with pirates or ninjas, it was a third, wholly other thing, and yet by virtue of being first, it might as well have been the "true" description.

But there was another original, even more original than the "true", Warframes predecessor game, Dark Sector, was a spy thriller with biomechanical aesthetics, or perhaps a powered suit superhero series. Would this original, more original than even the initial, not be what it truly was?

I think what my takeaway was from all of these, is that first an foremost, the aesthetic is "itself" rather than any arbitrary descriptors - I enjoy this about my own pieces, that they mostly still feel like they were made by me even if I can't quite categorise them or explain myself. Perhaps I'm happy if the takeaway is "cool mech", "weird robot" or "wacky character" because maybe it's all of those things and even more!

[aeferfckr]

dropping this fluffy modernau-esque drabble before i release the asshole aether agenda☺️

nsfw. wet dreams. communication. cunnulingus.

boyfriend!aether when he had a dream about you last night, of the both of your wedding night. more specifically, what you two were doing on the wedding night.

boyfriend!aether who's dick twitches in his sleep as he dreams about you sitting on his face, your weight completely on his face, and how you grind on his mouth so fluidly.

boyfriend!aether who wakes up from that very dream with a hard on and a wet spot on his shorts. he seriously couldn't of cummed from a wet dream? right beside you for that matter

boyfriend!aether who regrets looking at your sleeping form: your lips slightly parted, your eyes resting so prettily, and how your chest peaks through the flimsy shirt that you were wearing. he couldn't have disturbed your peaceful sleep for something as embarrassing as a wet dream. so he tip-toed out of the bed into your shared bathroom to take care of his little problem.

boyfriend!aether 's mind continued to replay his dream like a popular song in a grocery store, every feeling, sensation, and emotion he felt in that moment recreated so vividly.

boyfriend!aether whose dick was driving him insane.

boyfriend!aether who finally mustered the courage to have your very first sex talk. it was awkward at first, definitely, as he could see you acerting eye contact and twiddling your fingers together.

boyfriend!aether and you established what exactly should happen whilst getting intimate: do you have any turn-on's? do you have any turn offspring? what should we use as our safe words? is there something that you look forward to when having sex? usual questions along that night

boyfriend!aether whose heart jumped at your voice, admitting the very same things that he has done. you were utterly infatuated with him, of course your mind would drift to more mature topics regarding him.

boyfriend!aether who finally gets the chance to bear himself to you, to make you feel euphoric, to make you feel loved. of course, he starts off slow. his lips trace and suck at the area of your neck, occasionally leaving darkened marks in his path.

boyfriend!aether who leans up to stare into your eyes, his eyes were as calming as ever as he leaned down to kiss you once more. his hands roam down to your chest before squeezing the supple flesh, playing with the buds that peaked from his touch and swallowing the soft sighs that slipped from your mouth

boyfriend!aether who raises his head once more to suck on the very bud he was rolling with his fingers. you cover your mouth to suppress your moans, but your hand ends up getting removed by your pouting lover.

boyfriend!aether who loved to hear your voice so much, who loved to listen to you talk about different topics and how gentle affirmations fell from you oh so sweetly, so why would you hide your moans from him? embarrassed? don't you worry, aether will try his very best to make your pleasure outweigh your embarrassment. and with your 'go ahead', he finally goes down on you.

boyfriend!aether who moans as soon as his lips reach your heat. the smell was so musty, so raw, just how he imagined it to be, dare he say, even better. he draws his tongue from your hole to where you needed him the most.

boyfriend!aether who suckles on your tip while tracing his fingers over your hole. the other hand roamed your skin and left goosebumps in its path.

boyfriend!aether who muses to himself about the volume of your noises: how earlier it was muffled sighs and now it was open-mouthed whines. your back arched off of the bed and your hand in his hair.

boyfriend!aether who swells with pride at the fact that he's making you feel this way, making you feel so good. so good to bring you to your high with a sweet noise of pure sin.

boyfriend!aether who laps up your juices as quickly as he could, daring not to let any go to waste.

© aeferfckr \\ mlist.

[nell0-0]

Writing requests open?? What about Wind doing something that is SO REMINISCENT OF TUNE that Time and Wars start sweating? Or TIME GOING FULL MASK BEHAVIOUR causing Wars to have flashbacks?

I am very in love with your HW-era art, especially with Mask, by the way 💜

Not sure if this 100% fits the request, but hopefully you like it anyways ^^

Main characters: Wind/Tune & Time/Mask

Wind was biting his tongue. It could be barely seen between his teeth, peeking out the slightest bit. Sitting down on a log as he was, back teetering dangerously back and forth from exhaustion, it was a tad concerning.

Or it would be if Time wasn’t already familiar with such a sight. Legend could keep sending the sailors all the sneaky worried glances he wanted, and Wild could try to cook as many of the sailor’s favorite dishes as he could with the ingredients he had, but none of it would make much of a difference.

The long walks had been hard on the sailor, and that summed up with chasing down the latest batch of black blooded monsters from Twilight’s time, the shift to Sky’s era and the subsequent series of favors they completed for the people of Skyloft (which Wild insisted in calling side-quests, Farore knows why), had been taking a toll. Not only on the sailor, of course, as Four could also be seen on the edge of camp laying on top of his bedroll, completely knocked out for the night.

In short, it wasn’t a surprising sight for Time. Wind biting his tongue, the back and forth rocking and the restless ears, flopping up and down without apparent rhythm. It was one of Tune’s tells regarding deep exhaustion.

For a hero used to adjusting his posture to the rocking of the waves, long hours spent looking at the horizon with nothing in sight, this particular adventure was draining. Then again, it was one of Tune’s tells, not Wind’s. Even though they were the same person, it was only in the way that Mask and Time had once been one in the same. That was probably why the others were concerned.

Casting a quick look in Warrior’s direction, the captain didn’t seem to notice anything odd. Probably not realizing this was something out of the ordinary for Wind, since it was so normal to see from Tune. So, since the captain was out, it was up to Time.

Getting up with creaking knees that made Hyrule snicker, Time walked towards the sailor, dropping to the ground next to the log in which Wind sat.

“Hey.”

Goddesses, Time cringed internally. An accomplished warrior he may be, but casual conversation was not his forte.

“Hey there.”

Then again, not that it mattered if Wind was so out of it to not notice.

The thought of getting Legend’s ice rod to see if Wind’s peeking tongue would stick to the icy orb did cross Time’s mind. The reaction would have been priceless, all wide eyes and betrayed looks. Time could picture it. He was quick to discard it.

After all, a prank like that would lose effectiveness if it was expected. Tune’s reaction had been so memorable he still remembered vividly to this day.

“You want to talk about whatever has you down?”

A grunt. A negative, then. Not that it surprised Time, he had been expecting this kind of response.

Rummaging through his pack, he looked consideringly at some loose parchment, then thought again and grabbed one of his newer journals, with barely a name (which they shared, so it wouldn’t be an issue) and a little log of the last couple of time jumps.

After some time just letting the silence fester, Time asked again, just to get the same negative response. Plan b, then.

In the end, Time passed the journal and some ink to Wind, who looked at them uncomprehending.

“Here, take it.”

Little hands did take the items, peeking tongue retreating to the insides of the mouth as downturned lips showed confusion.

“It helps sometimes, to draw instead of talk. If you’re too tired, or just don’t want to talk, then doodle some.”

“I’m not a little kid.”

The indignation would have been endearing if it wasn’t funny as hell, because he had said those exact same words to Tune all those years ago (or to come. It was a matter of perspective. Time magic was confusing like that).

“I know.” Time patted the cover of the leatherbound journal pointedly. “I use them too, and I’m grown up, aren’t I?”

That got a laugh. A win on Time’s book.

“Grown? More like old.”

With a fond smile, Time messed Wind’s hair, who protested the treatment heavily. And yet, the weight against his hand increased, seeking contact and reassurance, as Time knew it would.

“Here, let me show you some of my doodles.”

And when Wind criticized how badly Time drew everything BUT horses, the man shrugged.

“Take it up with the guy who taught me to draw in the first place if you’re so bothered.”

“And how the hell am I supposed to do that? I probably won’t even met him, ever!”

“Oh, believe me, you will.”

Years later-ago-somewhen, when there was a war that included different time periods, fought over a hero that wasn’t supposed to awaken so soon yet had to, with two displaced kids holding the same sacred title as the captain, a certain sailor had a realization.

He looked down at his hands in horror, then up towards the sky in despair as he yelled.

“Oh my goddesses, I can’t believe that-that-“

Mask pouted scowled, used by now to the antics but no less inconvenienced.

“Are you gonna teach me to draw Epona or not?”

“Shut it, this is your fault in the first place!”

“Sure” Mask shrugged, wanting the dramatics to be over with. The chances of it working were slim, but never zero. At least it would speed it up. Hopefully.

“On my pride as an artist, you will learn how to draw something else other than horses, that I swear!”

Mask sighed. “Okay. But Epona first.”

Mask never ended up learning to draw anything else other than horses during the two years that followed that interaction.

[goldenshrikecomic]

Hello, this is gonna be a long one and I hope I don't bother you too much with it but you have something great going and and I think maybe some advice for someone like me who wants to do a longer comic and I took heart in that one ask you recently answered were you said you are plenty of pages ahead of the readers to not get paralysed by a deadline which seems like a no-brainer now that I read that with my own two eyes black on white but I had not thought to maybe go about it that way and I needed to have someone spell it out for me apparently. So to my question.. see, I have a skeleton of a story I have key scenes that need to happen and that I want to happen and I am sure in between things will shift and change and grow and a part of me can't wait for it to happen but- How do you start. How do you get going. It is in my head I have some written notes but most is in my head and I do not want it to remain there and rot I want to draw and tell the story I had in mind but I feel.. paralysed on the starting line of this journey and I am unsure how to go from there because my mind gets caught up in estimates of if I post one page a week that is "only" 52 pages. That seems so little. How many years would it take. Can I do this. And then my mind fires up in passion because I am willing to commit I want to do this I need to do this and I have a good idea of how to pace myself and how to go about it. I have the beginning of it on the back of my tongue and the tip of my fingers I can imagine it so vividly I wish I could animate it (if that wouldn't take up even more time and be insane I would) But somehow I still feel stumped on how to start. How to get over this first hurdle. It might be the executional dysfunction playing a huge part in it, maybe I am overthinking to much and stand in my way because of it, but like... How did you start your comic. How did your journey on GS begin? I know this was a bit of word vomit I am sorry but you are an inspiration and you seem to go about things (from what I could gleam from the asks) in a way that feels like it could work for me too and the way my brain functions but I do not know how to start? I dunno if it makes sense I am no english native and my thoughts are hard to put into words.

This ask has been sitting in my inbox for a while because it's such a loaded question. I have plenty of asks in this tag about my comicing process, so check them out maybe. This reply got lengthy! The more I wrote the more I noticed I feel very inadequate trying to give people tips on making comics. It's such a trial and error process.

I've seen plenty of advice for people wanting to start out comics to just start small, come up with a smaller story to get a feel of it before you go big. And I absolutely understand it in hindsight because I would've done many things differently if I had just tried it out first, but it's not what I did. I wanted to make a big comic, and a big comic I made, as my first project.

I don't think about the years these things take, but it'd absolutely ease your worries if you could come up with a simple style and be able to make pages faster. I've stripped my comic of shading and gotten more lenient with myself when it comes to backgrounds. You absolutely need to cut some corners if you want to make more than one story during your lifetime. It's a limited time afterall! Being able to turn your sketch into a lineart without having to redo everything with a careful hand would help a lot already. And colors, they take a lot of time.

This is not how I went about it in the beginning, but I'd love to tell you to write those things in your head down before you start. Leave holes, just write in what you know because you will forget some cool details if you keep them in. Write the starting point, middle and the end, even with just couple of words. Add things that interest you in the middle of those points. Do you want a sad arc for your character at some point? Write it in. Come up with what makes it happen. Weave it into the other scenes. If you know what's to come, you can add foreshadowing to the earlier scenes. Even if you didn't know what would come, you can take something from earlier scenes and make it foreshadowing. Writing is a fluid process. You can jump around and add things, you don't have to approach it by putting one block next to the other. Once you have the elements you want, you just have to tie those things together. It's the hard part. And you will change your mind about many things when you get to draw your characters and see them doing the things you've written.

The start! I always say it's the worst part, but I've started to think it might be the second worst. I think the worst part comes after you've started and worked for several ten pages on fumes and you finally run out of juice. Picking up after that is hard, for me at least. But if you can manage, it should get easier. You know your characters better by now, and they carry some of their own weight.

Make a canvas. Think about the scene you want to start your comic with. Night or day? Calm or busy? Just doodle, BIG and loose. Add some frames by just drawing lines, move things around, resize. What do you want to portray with the first page of your comic? I like to establish some of the world or atmosphere, and only then move on to the characters.

Don't try to be perfect, in fact leave that first canvas completely unpolished and move on to the next one. What should this page tell? Will you show the character? I'd leave the establishing shot of them as the last big panel. The rest of the page should build up to it. The last panel is important, it's a hook to turn the page.

Come back to polish those pages more only after you have a few of them done. The most important thing is to get yourself away from that first page, because the first page is scary. After five pages you can move things around and start adding ears to your spheres. You've started a comic now. You can go back to the first page and make it nice, because you already have opened the path to continue.

IT'S HARD. But it's rewarding. It's not for everyone but it's awesome if you can make it yours.

[misguidedasgardian]

The Dragon's Mistress (6)

6. Whore, then?

MASTERLIST

Summary: Aemond’s plans for you come to light

Warnings: cursing, mentions of war, mentions of death, humiliation, use of the word bastard and traitor, involuntary touch of a PENISSSS hahaha, incest, smut, non-con, dubcon, breeding kink, talks about “seed”, mentions of sexual desire of a minor towards another minor,  might miss some warnings

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount:  4.6 k

Notes: This chapter is huge, because the first part… the smut didn’t came and I didn’t want to disappoint you all, so I put more into it hehe so the next chapter might take more in coming, and the story will take another rhythm 

You felt small under his gaze, you felt terrified of what he was going to do to you

“Before our… guest… arrived we were in the middle of something”, he said darkly, you remembered vividly how you were dining with him and he told you to draw him a bath and then… he told you after the bath you were going to do something but now you had a dark clue of what that might be…

“Yes”, you answered meekly

“Remember? you are not going to be my servant any more…”, you didn’t want to ask, you didn’t want to know what other title he might have for you, you truly didn’t want to know.

“I remember”, you said softly and fearfully looking down, “may I bring you dinner?”

“That is a job for a servant”, he said with a smile

“Please, my prince, let me serve you”, no, no, no, you had to be his servant, nothing more, nothing less

“You are so eager”, he said with pursed lips, with the tip of his finger he arranged a wild lock of hair behind your ear, “I will use that eagerness elsewhere”, he whispered

“Please…”

“We are going to have dinner, then you will make me a bath, and then…”, he drew a sickening smile, “then I shall see how to proceed”

“Very well”, you whispered with a broken voice, he smiled yet again, pleased, as he turned to the doors, to ask a guard to fetch a maid or servant

“And tomorrow, if you can walk, I will take you to meet Vhagar”, he said then, and that scared you more than anything else

You didn't want to, you truly didn’t

The servants rushed in with plates of food and things to set the table. It was set near the balcony, with views to the Dragonmount and the sea. The day, or what was left of it was dark and gloomy, a start might be approaching and yet, you two sat on the table, the candle lit in the center of it didn’t even flinch, far from everything happening around it. 

You looked over the table and you found cheeses, fruits, bread, wine, meats and jams, a little of everything. 

“Does this assortment please you?”, he asked casually, hiding his smile on the cup of wine

“It does my prince”, you said softly, he smiled, content

“The food here is not as good as it is in King’s Landing, but the company is certainly better”, he tried with a smirk

“You are too kind my prince”, you whispered, “but I’m sure that in King's Landing you could find more pleasing company amongst the ladies of court and the great houses”, you tried, not to offend him, but to make him remember all the things he liked about the capital, if you were lucky maybe he could leave you alone

“Not really, the women from the capital are boring and unremarkable”, he said, quickly bored of the subject

“I’m very sorry to hear that my prince”, were you trying too hard? perhaps you should try to insult him, or bore him to death, so his interest in you would cease

But it was certainly a challenge 

You nibbled on what you had selected in your plate, you tried to focus on the food as you felt his uneven gaze upon you. The sapphire on his eye certainly startled you at first, although you couldn’t deny he looked strikingly handsome

And you wanted to slap yourself at that thought

“You are quiet”, he admired like it was a good thing

“I have nothing to say my prince forgive me”, you muttered

“Do you find the meal pleasing?”, he tried then, after a sigh

“Yes, my prince, I’ve always liked the food here”, you tried to give him a good smile, but as you said those words it reminded you of all the meals you used to have with all your family gathered. Your parents, your brothers, your cousins, the babies… and it made your heart squeeze so hard you thought you were going to die right then and there

The flashbacks with your family in them had become really strange these past months, you even feared you were forgetting them. But here they were, alive even if only in your memory

“Where did you go?”, you came back to the present when Aemond was looking right back at you, with a sick smile on his face

“I’m sorry”, you said, drawing another fake smile

“What was on your mind?”, he asked, sipping on his wine. It sickened you that he was pretending like nothing had happened, like you were having a normal conversation, that you were in somewhat a normal situation. 

“I was just remembering things that don’t exist anymore”, you said gently, praying that he indeed ask you to elaborate, he seemed to get the indirect, so he didn't, and you were thankful for it 

“Where you thinking of your brother?”, but you were mistaken

“No one in particular”, you said back, “like all my family”

“Mmm”, then he dropped it, you could see he didn’t like the direction of the conversation

You continued to eat in silence, and you could tell there was not the tension like before, he seemed more relaxed, pleased, and you didn’t know if you should be happy for it, or scared

“I think it is time for my bath���, he said, wiping his mouth with a silk napkin and leaving it on the table, “I know you are not my servant anymore, but I won’t want you to forget your initiative, is that clear?”

“Yes my prince”, you almost jumped off the table to fetch the maids, and they were not hard to find, you commanded them to fetch the water and they did so without delay, already accustomed to your daily baths.

You came back to find him staring outside the windows, as he tended to do. You realized Aemond was really meditative, always sunken in his deepest thoughts, impossible to read

His thoughts, unknown to you, were plagued with you and only you, how to proceed with you, how to take you, how to tame you, how to make you truly his, and then, he remembered what Alys told him and that made him even angrier 

You were going to be his, specially your heart, after all, he was all you had left and he wanted to make sure you knew it, for you, there was only him, nobody else, no friends no family, only Aemond, and when you realized it, you will learn to care for the only thing you had, care and then love. 

He couldn’t fail

You left him to think when the maids brought the water, and you confined yourself in the bath room

He watched you as you poured the oils and essences into the almost boiling water of the bath, did he feared you would poison him? you doubted, perhaps it was only something perverse as always, just watching you. 

“It is ready”, you announced with a smile after you prepared the towel and the night shirt for him. 

“Undress me”, he demanded, and you were quick to follow his command, you undid the buttons of his vest, and then you took it in your arms, fold it and placed in a chair, and then you turned to him again, this time to take his white shirt, undoing the only lace on his chest and then he himself got rid of it and then handed it to you

You knew what followed, his breeches, you paused, but you knew he was going to make you take them

“I told you I wanted you for more intimate works”, he said as a warning, so you bite your tongue, literally, and grab his breeches and let them fall down his lean legs. His leather pants dragged along his first layer of clothing, his undergarments, so now he was completely naked. You worked, hard, not to gaze at his manhood, that by your position in front of him must be right by your face, as you kneeled to take his pants off

“This is what I like to see”, he mocked, “you on your knees”, and you couldn’t get up any faster, you did so it made you dizzy 

You help him get in the tub and sit inside it. He submerged in the water, and his hair was now wet, you didn’t even see him undoing his signature half ponytail, but now he was there. All bare, his hair wet and loose, his eye patch gone. This was the true Aemond, the naked one.

He caught you staring, and in his eye you saw bitterness. You must have looked stupid, mouth agape and wide-eyed

“Does my sight horrify you so?”, he asked, and that truly took you by surprise, he looked truly naked, exposed even

“No”, you said quickly, and you didn’t know why you find yourself wanting to comfort him, “no, on the contrary”

“You pity me, then?”, he asked

“I was only thinking that I had never seen you like this”, you said softly, grabbing the sponge and playing with it, “with your hair loose and your eyepatch gone”, you continued, “it is an extraordinary sight”, and you cursed yourself because you sounded like a little girl in love

He smirked then.

“Bathe me”, he demanded.

He thought about inviting you to join him but then he thought about it more and he didn’t like what he saw, you were going to refuse, and he was not going to make you unless he threatens you to drown you in the tub, and he didn’t want that

He was going to have you after the bath, so now he wanted you, like a lamb to slaughter, he did not want you to see the knife approaching

You bathed him with the sponge, and you used the tip of your fingers to draw small messages that he seemed to enjoy, he grunted in praise and you felt a little proud.

If you were good to him he was going to be good to you back

You knew it, you had to believe it

You stopped when the sponge was in his belly, he looked at you, with his face barely centimeters away from you

He took your hand again and drew it even further into the waters, you whimpered when you touched a soft soft skin with your knuckles

A tear fell down your eye, you didn't want this, you didn’t want to touch him, you didn't want him touching you, but at the same time if you refused he was only going to be rougher with you. He saw your pain, and released you

He sighed, like he was tired… of you. With a movement of his hand you realized he wanted to get out of the tub, so you rushed to get the towel, that, as it was a custom for you, you had left by the fire so it will be warm for when he needed it 

He extended his arms so you’d dry them, and you did, and then you started by his chest and went down, and then, you couldn’t help yourself, you saw it. 

He was hard, and his cock looked… bigger in comparison to those of the paintings and drawings, he was as thick as your wrist, and you couldn’t help but whimper. If he had an unsheathed sword in hand you would be less frightened, you only hoped he didn’t “wield it” against you

“Like what you see?”, he asked, he obviously saw you

“I’m sorry”

“Don’t be”, he purred, “I want you to see and feel what I will give to you” 

“Please, my prince”, you whimpered but he grabbed your hand, that was still holding the towel, and he took it there

With only the fabric separating your hand from his cock, you could feel the outline of it.

“Dry it”, you did, give it a few taps, hoping it will be enough, and your face must have been so constricted that he released you, and you were fast to go dry him down his legs and pretend that nothing happened  

Once he was dry, ne put on his nightshirt and he himself dried his hair, he seemed conflicted himself, on what to do and now you remembered yourself

He probably wanted to have you now. He wanted you to attend to his intimate needs he said so himself 

“Why do you reject me?”, he asked then, amused, entertained

“What?”, you asked him, wide-eyed, and for him you looked like a little lamb ready to be devoured 

“Why?”, he asked again. But he got no answer from you, “go to the room”, you whispered, the worse had come. He grabbed you and dragged you to the room, and when he was there he grabbed you, threw himself at you.

He grabbed your arms to prevent you from pushing him away, and he leaned in to try and kiss you. 

“No… please”, you begged, trying to escape his kisses, “You are going to ruin me”

“You are mine, you need to please your master”, he growled, but he relented his attack on you, releasing you when you whimpered, your eyes watery

“Please”, you begged, placing two hands on his chest, “I was a lady…”, you explained, “we are not married… You are going to ruin me”

“Oh, ruin you?”, he mocked, “were you saving yourself for your husband?”, he taunted, making you whimper, “for Cregan Stark?”

“Please”, you begged, for him to be off of you, but he wouldn’t leave you

“I’m sorry if it amazes me you see, with a whore as a mother I would believe you already let your bastard brother fuck you”

“No!”, you cried, “don’t say those things, please”

“I already said them”, he mocked, “you didn’t let Jacaerys between your thighs?”, he taunted

“Never”, you whined, and you wanted to throw up at the thought, Jacaerys would NEVER have done that, ever, he loved you and you him, yes, but only as siblings

“Oh that does pleases me”, he growled against the skin of your neck, you whined and twisted on his grasp, but he didn’t let go, “because I killed Stark when I learned you were going to marry him”, you whimpered in fear when you realized he truly was unhinged. 

“Why?”, you demanded

“You are the one for me”, he said simply, “there is only you”, he looked into his eyes and what you saw there scared you

“And what about Alys?”, you asked, he stopped immediately, there it was, your last line of defense

“I send her back to Harrenhal”, he said, looking down at you

“She is your wife”, you tried to reason with him

“She is not my wife!”, he said angrily, “And you are different”, he said then, placing another treacherous kiss on your neck, “my silver dragon, you are the one…”

“You made me a servant”, you accused, “I’m only a servant”

“And as such you will serve your lord”

He threw you to the bed, and when you tried to crawl back and away from him, and saw the real fear in your eyes, he seemed to stop. He looked at you and you saw pity in his eye, so he just pursed his lips

He climbed onto the bed and you only stayed still, fearful of him, truly scared 

But what he did disarmed you. He only held you tight against him, but attempted nothing else, his weight crushed you a little, but nothing else as you fell asleep, so tired of the day. 

He felt you relax under him and that made him relax himself.

But he was angry

Forcing you, it was not what he wanted to do, he took no pleasure in taking what was not freely given. He realized to his own surprise. He wanted you, he knew that, but he didn’t like the fear in your eyes. 

He needed to change his strategy, you were no longer his servant, but he didn’t have time to court you and make you fall in love with him…

He needed to loosen you up, he didn’t want to force you, he thought, as he looked at you sleeping underneath him, it would work better if he grew in you, when you are no longer scared of him 

When you woke up the next morning, you felt strangely rested, you felt Aemond on top of you all night long and that strangely left you a sensation of comfort, but you woke up alone on the bed. But your “master” was not far, you heard noise from the corner and you found him having breakfast on the table

“Good morning”, he greeted, but he hesitated on what to call you, you guessed, “I haven’t decided yet what you are to me”, he said calmly, with a gentle tone

“You are my prince”, you said gently, he was in a good mood, you’d do well in not ruin it

“I know”, he smiled gently at you, and invited you to join him

You did, you were still wearing the clothes for the day before but still, you sat with him and joined him, he would commence a small talk with you, he was careful in no bringing up your family or recent events, he rather talked about other things, things beyond the seven Kingdoms, things you had seen and read

“You should change, put on your riding gear”, you looked up at him wide-eyed, “we will take a ride”

“On Vhagar, My prince?”, you asked shakily

“Yes”, he looked at you with warning, so you didn’t protest, instead you asked.

“What if she does not take to me?”, you asked fearfully

“She will feel what I feel with you, she will not harm you”, he said simply

“My Prince, she slain my brother and my father”, you whispered, he got quiet then, looking at you with severity

“We were having such a lovely morning, I woke up next to you, we are breaking our fast with nice food…”

“I’m sorry My Prince”, you whispered, “I would be honored and happy to take to the skies again”, but only in your dragon, you thought bitterly

You were interrupted by a knock on the door, the guard announced the Maester himself what waiting

“I wish to speak to you, your grace, an important letter has arrived from King’s Landing”, Aemond was quick to leave the room to have a private conversation with the Maester of Dragonstone, leaving you alone in the room

But without your knowledge, in that audience, in that letter that arrived from King’s Landing, will make everything change.

He returned soon after, and ass soon as he walked in the door you knew, it came a different man that the one that left 

“What happened?”, you asked curiously, he only looked at you, “My prince?”, you asked

He didn't answer you, he didn’t even let you react, he walked towards you hastily, almost running, you had no time to flee but he caught you between his body and the wall

“No! please!”, you cried, he grabbed your hands, trapping them over your head and against the cold stone wall, his face seeked yours, his lips wanting to devour your own, “my prince?”

“I will get what is mine, finally”, he growled, so you tried one last thing

“I know you hate me”, you cried, “I know it, I understand it, and I’m sorry for what my family did, but please, please don’t do this, please…”, bitter tears fell down your eyes as you pleaded. He halted his movements, and for a moment, a single second you thought it had worked, that he was going to leave you alone.

But he barked out a laugh, and your heart shattered

“You think that I hate you because of your family?”, he asked bitterly, you only whined, “I hate your family because they took you away from me”, he said darkly, and you gasped underneath him by the surprise

“What?”, you asked, horrified

“I’ve wanted you, since I was thirteen”, he chuckled, “Since I knew what to do with my cock I knew I wanted you”

“But why?”, you whined, and he only looked down at you

“Because you are a pure Targaryen princess, and I fucking deserve you”, he growled, you only looked up at him wide-eyed, wishing he would elaborate, “My brother is dying, his burnt cock will not produce more heirs”, he said darkly, and you whimpered at his words, “I will be the King of the Seven Kingdoms, and you will be my Queen”

“No!”, you whined

“The last Targaryen”, he continued, “you will give me perfect Targaryen heirs, and we will reign for half a decade, just like Jaehaerys and Alyssane did”, he took no more time and threw you to the bed 

“Please I beg of you, please”, you whimpered, bitter tears falling down your cheeks, “don’t do it!”

“Why wouldn't I?”, he asked, grunting looking down at you, “You don’t want my seed?”, you shook your head as more tear fell

“Please, don’t…”

“Shut up, our time is over, I can’t wait no longer for you to fall in line, I will have to make you”

You moved on the bed under him like a woman possessed, but he immobilized you \

“It will be best for us both if you don’t fight it”, he warned, calmly, and in some sick part of your mind you believed that to be true

“You made me your servant”, you accused again, as he took a dagger from his belt, and used it to rip your dress to pieces, “you humiliate me”, you said then

“it was only to break you”, he only sliced a bit of the dress, he then disposed of the dagger and used his bare hands to rip the simple dress off of you

Soon you were naked underneath him, and he stopped only to look down at you, admire you from above

“You are so perfect for me”, he said like it was hurting him, you stopped fighting him, you only looked up at him with eyes filled with tears. He leaned in and kissed you, hungrily but calmly, he took his time to savor you, and you could do nothing but to follow along, for the first time truly feeling his lips on top of yours. He separated from you only to undress, he threw his vest and shirt far away, and now it was your time to look up at him.

He was perfect

He was like one of the statues, a marble statue, you looked into his face and your eyes met, your gazes intertwined 

Is this why the Gods spared you? for you to live this moment? for you to become his? to become a Queen? it could be a way to avenge your family, take the side of the throne and birth the future King and Queens

The moment of gazing it was over, he leaned in and took your lips on his again, his hands did not stayed idle, he touched your sides, and slowly, enjoying every inch of your skin, he moved up, until he cupped your breasts

One of his hands though, traveled south, he had taken a lace between your legs so you couldn’t close your legs when his fingers teased your intimacy

“You are not ready”, he growled, like he was chiding you, like you were to blame, so one of his fingers entered you as his thumb pressed on your clit

You whimpered, feeling a lightning striking your body. 

He loosed you up with patience and skill, and he was pleased with how wet you were, he kneeled on the bed and he got rid of his pants

You didn’t want to see him, you looked away as you made fists of your hands grabbing the shits underneath you

“I want you to look at me”, he demanded, his hand on your thighs, caressing them, grabbing the soft skin he found there , you did, you met his eyes as he with his touch was coaxing your relaxation, “I will be gentle”, he said softly, you could only nood as a tear fell down your eye, embracing your fate, and your fears

“Please”, you only said

“You are the only thing I‘ve ever wanted”, he continued, “the thing I fought so hard to obtain”

“I’m not a thing”, you said as a warning

“I know, you are a Queen”, he said, he leaned in and kissed you again, he accommodated himself between your thighs and you whimpered in his mouth when you felt his cock crash with your cunt. 

He looked into your eyes and he grabbed himself and opened you with his cock. You cried bloody murder when you felt him ripping you open.

He did prepared you, you were as relaxed as you could be, and he was being gentle and slow, but he was too big, you whined and cried underneath him

“Shh, relax”, he demanded, his thumb returned to your bundle of nerves, and he caressed it gently, that did help, you spread your legs even wider hoping that will open you up more. 

You hissed at the burn of the stretch, but you just stood there underneath him and take it 

He entered you slowly, and you thought that when he was finally seated whole inside of you, you could feel him in your belly 

“You are doing so good for me”, he admired and when you looked into his eyes you saw again that look, a glint of madness in his eye, “taking what I’m giving you, given yourself to me”

“My prince”, you whined, impaled by him, you felt like if you moved he was going to break you in half.

He grunted above you

“You are so tight, so perfect for me”, he purred, his hands touched and caressed everything he could find, your hips, your sides, your breasts, then it went back to your thighs, until you relaxed fully, the pain did not disappear but rather you got accustomed to it

In that very second he withdrew himself from you, only to thrust into you again

“It hurts”, you complained softly, but this time he was too sunken pleasure to listen to you, to care

“It will only be a second”, he growled, and he started rutting onto you, slowly, but fiercely, enjoying the way you squeezed him, and you felt every inch of his cock coming in and out of you

He leaned in and kissed you more, devoured you, quieted your whimpers with his mouth, as he growled back at you

When you felt him so near you hugged him tightly, sinking your nails into his back, making him suffer even just a little bit, you were content with that, not knowing he was truly enjoying it. 

His pace quickened, you felt pain and burn even in your throat but you cling onto him, needing something to keep you together. He grunted in your ear, curses in High Valyrian, calming ownership over you, praising how good you were to him, like he was joining you both together

You felt no pleasure, but you didn’t expect to, you only felt connected to him like never before you felt with anything or anyone else.

“I’m going to cum inside you”, he promised, his hair was a mess, wild hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, he looked wild, like a savage, “I’m going to make you truly mine, and my child will grow inside you”

You whined, not wanting it, this was another thing entirely. He grabbed your arms, pushed them against the mattress by your head, and he demanded you look at him. Having securing you under him, he cummed inside you

“You are mine”

[silvergarnet12]

Splatoon was the first Nintendo game to push me out of my comfort zone of single player games, and with the closure of it's servers I wanted to draw a tribute to a game that really means a lot to me.

Some long rambles about the game under the cut.

When I first played the Global Testfire I was 15, and the only mutliplayer games I played were with friends in the same room.

Splatoon was also the first shooter I ever picked up, as I always liked bright colours over more realistic graphics in my games, and back then the only shooters I knew about were Halo(and that was only really a name to me!) and the CoD games.

Any worries I had about being bad quickly vanished as the sheer vibe of chaotic fun the game had, particularly when no one had played it before, got rid of any worries, and all I remember is having fun. And choosing to play as the guy instead of the girl for the first time, solely becuase I wanted a ponytail like in real life(I would continue to use the guy through the series as a tradition, a contrast to what I saw most people online doing).

When the game came out I binged the single player, and vividly remember the first time I fought DJ Octavio, and the first time I heard Calamari Inkantation. If ever a game was to convince me that a song could irreversibly change your life, it was Splatoon. Because to teenage me, in that moment, with Calamari Inkantation playing in the background while I fought an octupus DJ, it did.

It gave me terminal brainworms for this series. And here I am, 8 yrs later. Older and more tired, been through some shit, had some good times, tried, succeeded and failed in things throughout the years.

I've always been grateful that they made the decision for the player character from 1 to return, everytime they've shown up it's felt a bit like seeing an old friend, especially since as the games time skips have always had them close to my age(which probably helped my attachement back in the first game). So hi Three, can't believe we both probably pay taxes now.

I have the original two Inkling Amiibos, in a collection that is slowly building, I'm still attached to Marie, and yes I was on her team for the Final Splatfest.

I cried when it was over, just like I did in 2's Final Fest(I was team chaos, two for two baby!) and will probably do so for 3's as well. Something about this series just makes me super attached to it's world and characters.

So booyah Splatoon, my final online game of yours was well and truly years ago, but I replayed story mode to share you with a friend recently, and I think I'll refight Octavio tonight in honour of the good times.

You encouraged me to try out games I wouldn't have otherwise(hello Overwatch and Deep Rock Galactic), and outlasted one of the other major games of my teenage years(...Overwatch 1 I miss you). So thank you for that.

I'll miss Squid Jump, Inkstrike, the og kit for the NZap 89(why does it's new one not vibe with me ;-;), the Squid Sister's broadcasts and the more saturated colours. At least I can always return to the Plaza in 3, and that Spyke isn't dead like I was concerned he was when 3 released, and see the Squid Sisters perform during Splatfests again.

I have so much more to say in my heart about you but no more ways to word it.

You've been a fantastic game, and will always be a treasured experience that I am grateful to have been a apart of from the very beginning.

Now bring back Moray Towers in 3 damn it! It's in 2 but I DON'T WANT TO LOSE MY FAVOURITE STAGE IF IT"S NOT IN 4.

[marshmellowzz]

can I request reader who’s kidnapped by the hantengu clones, and she tries to escape? can be a oneshot/scenario thing >.< (btw! I think it’d be funny if reader was small and weak, so they just kinda manhandle her…)

in their grasp

a/n: hi anon! i'm so sorry to everyone for my continuous inactivity on this account, i feel soooo bad about it. im having a lotta issues in my life right now, as well as a killer writers block - so i'm very very sorry for everyones requests who's been sitting in my ask box, i'll try my best to work through them! anyway! i made this one a little long, ill post it in two parts because i haven't finished the second half yet ! :3

content warning: mentions of kidnapping ! suggestive language and actions! graphic (i guess?), they dont see u as an equal and just treat u as their pet….

word count: 3.3k

[part 1]

You awoke with a start, your eyes flashed open and your heart racing as you let a sharp noise between a gasp and a scream leave your lips; piercing the stillness of the dark room you found yourself in. Your body seized up in fright, and waves of goosebumps rushed across your skin. Taking deep breaths to calm yourself down, you slowly sank back into the bed searching for something – anything - that could calm your nerves.

The blanket lazily placed onto you during the night was tangled around your feet, you were practically drenched due to sweat. You didn't even register that it was pitch black outside.

Your eyes were wide open, but all was silent. As quickly as the sensation came upon you, it faded away to nothing but silence. Your eyes whipped around the room -  seeking out any movement that had escaped your attention. 

This...This wasn't the safety of your home.

Suddenly, reminders began flashing into your mind.

Yes, you remembered.

You had a run in with a demon—four demons, actually.

They were all similar. Almost identical actually—which raised the question—were they all clones?

Although, you had only vividly remembered one—He was a giant of a man, towering over you as his vermillion eyes burned with rage. His muscled frame commanded your attention and sent shivers down your spine. His nails were long and sharp like daggers, digging into your skin to draw fresh wounds that dripped scarlet onto the floor. The malevolence in his gaze held you captive - the prominent frown on his face told of a ruthless disregard for your mortality, as if to imply that with one quick motion he'd be able snap you in two like a twig between his fingers. 

It seemed like you were about to be nothing more than another savory course. 

Every hair on your body standing up as you looked around in paranoia—were you in their home?

Had they took you here when you passed out? It was too quiet, you were all alone with your overwhelmed mind, and pained body. A sense of unease settled in your stomach and upon further investigation -  you found a crudely wound web of bandages, stained by the seepage of blood, wrapped around your torso. It was poorly placed, and it was now stringing around you like twisted ribbons.

It looked like the demon...or demons were trying to stop you from bleeding out.

At this point, you wish you did.

You buried your head in your hands, trying to calm your racing mind. It was like you could still feel their heavy presence lingering in the room, even when nobody was there.

You let out a shaky sigh—they weren't ordinary demons, you could grasp that—perhaps they were some...Super demons?

You vaguely recalled seeing the kanji 'uppermoon 4' engraved onto the pupils of their eyes—they were definitely higher-ranked demons, and your poor self had the misfortune of running into them.

You slid your feet down, cautiously straightening yourself, and planting your feet onto the cold, wooden floor. You had tried your best to be quiet, in order not to alert them if they were present in the house—and to not draw their attention to you.

You stepped timidly into the hollow corridors, your feet softly pattered against the cold, hard floorboards beneath you. The sound of each step echoed off of the barren walls, almost as if calling out to you with an unspoken invitation; daring you to explore further. 

Nobody. It was a dead silent, empty house.

The house was orderly, if slightly disheveled. Clothing laid scattered about in careless piles among the furniture, while occasional specks of dried blood made a grim contrast against the otherwise pristine walls. An unsettling mixture of domestic tranquility and disturbing reminders of violence hung in the air.

Just then, you were met with the sight of the front door.

You eyed it, in deep thought.

Well. You had to take your chance and escape, right?

There was no way of telling how far from the house they were now; all that you knew was that they weren't here at the moment

It didn't stop you from trying your luck.

If you actually pulled this off, you'll live, and be scot-free once again.

The only thing that has driven you was your hope—you may have been a bit too ambitious with what you were about to do right now, but you were going to try it anyway.

You take a deep, steady breath; your hand reaching out to open the door. It wasn't locked.

You quietly thanked the gods, and you opened the door, then gently closed it.

Without a moment's hesitation, you leapt forward, the icy wind rushing around your body as you darted into the forest. Your feet landing on the leaf-strewn forest floor, propelling your body further into its depths.

You had not a clue where you were going, but you were hoping that you weren't too far from civilization.

However.

That night, you had the misfortune of learning just how fast a high-ranking demon like Hantengu could travel. It seems like only a few minutes have passed after you've left the house when you hear a voice calling out.

In an instant, you feel a strong, taut arm latch onto your wrist and pull you back—you were whipped around, and forced to acknowledge his presence.

Their presence.

You felt a chill run through you as you sensed the presence of two distinct figures standing right behind your shoulder. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up in alarm and before you had time to turn around, their eyes met yours with an intensity that made you feel like a deer caught in headlights. Their gaze was heavy and seemed to be speaking volumes even without words being uttered, sending a message that made it clear: Don't move.

They had been nearby all along, close enough to notice your absence, close enough to hear your frantic footfalls, close enough to catch you. The fact that they were even there shocked you.

"Tsk tsk, bad pet." The green-eyed one tutted, his eyes aligned with contempt, and his lips stretching into a twisted, sickening smirk.

How did they get to you so fast?

You then yelped out, clearly startled by their sudden presence beside you.

You were certain you haven't even blinked and they had materialized beside you within a milisecond - you had only just registered the thoughts in your mind and they were already there, as if through some magical transference.

The other one stared down at you with bright blue eyes full of sorrow and disappointment. His face was puckered in a frown, adding to his sombre expression. "What are you doing, human?" he asked softly, despair evident in his voice. Like any normal person, your instincts were screaming at you to turn on your heel - and book it out. You panicked, you feel your heartbeat in your throat as your entire body tensed in pure. unbridled fear - your lungs seized and your feet seemed to lose the ability to move before they found their strength again in an instinctive attempt at flight, you then ran.

Running seemed futile, considering their strength and speed. It was obvious that the demons had an infinite advantage over you. No matter how hard you ran, all three of you knew it would never be enough to escape their pursuit after you. Even with such a crucial piece of information, it did nothing to stop the adrenaline pumping in your legs. Your legs trembled with fear as your mind raced for an escape route, telling yourself that maybe — just maybe—you could find one. All rationality had left you and all there was was the unquenchable desire to run away from this impending doom before it engulfed you altogether

Your heart hammered in your chest and terror immobilized you. You had to keep running, but every step was a struggle against the trapping gravity of fear that weighed down on you like an iron casket.

"Cute! Little human thinks she can outrun us, eh?" Karaku let's out a bark of laughter, watching you  scramble away.

So slow. So weak. He almost feels like this is unfair to you.

"Ah...She's so pitiful." Aizetsu frowns.

You were fighting a losing battle.

They watch you hasten for a while longer, you're out of breath and desperate. Karaku let's another bark of laughter leave his lips, the two of them taking in your panic.

Suddenly, Karaku was on you. His lightning-fast stride brought him through the air and he locked his arms around your waist in an instant, pushing your body against the nearest tree with a strength that almost felt like an embrace. His palms were warm on your skin as he held you against the bark firmly, pressing against you so closely that you could feel every breath.

Before you had time to react, he knocked the oxygen out of your lungs with his sheer weight and strength as he quickly took hold of both of your wrists in one hand and pinned them above your head. Your stomach churned with nausea and apprehension, while a squeak resounded from deep within your throat before it was able to escape into the air around you. You felt completely disoriented, like you'd been spun around on a merry-go-round one too many times

But, he doesn't hurt you; even if he has all the power to do so, even if you were completely at his mercy - there wasn't any hint of aggression in him. Instead, he wore an amused smirk as if he was relishing some joke only he knew about. He held a firm grip on your wrists, caging your body against the tree with a playful grin on his face.

He looked down at you, his eyes filled with mirth - amused at the fact that you were trapped beneath him - amused that he could end your pathetic life with the flick of his wrist at any given moment - amused by your complete horror.

"So, thought you could outsmart us. Huh, little pet?"  His relaxed expression irked you - the two of them found this all entertaining, or at least he did. His eyes twinkled with a strange delight at your distress. You could have screamed and begged for mercy but they both seemed so unphased by your presence it was like this entire situation was a game—and you were losing rapidly.

He had his hands wrapped vice-like around your wrists, pinning you where you stood. His grip was like iron and the more you tried to struggle against it the tighter it seemed to get. 

Your legs shake due to overexertion, and to the overwhelming presence that the two of them shared. He really was the only thing keeping you up and stable as the strength left from your body and with each passing second.

Karaku leaned his frame down towards you. His eyes narrowed as they bore into yours; the mere inches of space between your faces felt like a chasm. He seemed to savor your weakened state, and as he closed in on you--his lips curling up into a crooked smile--he smelled it: fear. You could feel his finger pressing against your cheek, slowly, tracing its way down from there, and all too soon his voice resounded with the sickeningly smug musing of, "You smell afraid," he mumbles, almost... satisfied. "Is that my doing?" he snickers.

"How sad," Aizetsu mumbled apologetically, "She's feeding your ego..." His voice trailed off as his eyes focused on the floor shamefully, his words hung in the air like a cloud of despair as he spoke, hanging heavy with regret.

You screwed your eyes shut, feeling hot, stinging tears at the corner of your eyes. You cranked your head in another direction in a futile attempt to create distance between his face and yours. "No! Let me go!" You shrieked, a desperate glint in your eyes as you squirmed beneath him.

Karaku only laughed, a deep guttural sound that reverberated through the air. His amusement with your fear only grew as he slowly lifted his free-hand to your face once again, brushing his fingertips along your cheeks before squeezing. With gentle force, he guided you to look up at him, "I'm afraid I can't do that, pet."  He purred; his voice carrying an ominous tone which revealed that something much more deadly was lying beneath the surface.

A raw, primal fear grappled its way to your throat and escaped in a bloodcurdling scream. Your body thrashed violently against his, desperate for an escape, but each futile attempt was met with heavy hands pinning your wrists down. "P-Please!" tears spilled from the corners of your eyes as you sobbed pitifully - pleading for help that never came, convinced by this point that you had been brought too far away from civilization for anyone to hear you. Helplessness filled every inch of you, there was no way you could fight back.

Karaku tightened his grip on your wrists and leaned in closer, seeming to take pleasure as you screamed. "I must say, you're much cuter when you're quiet." He purred into the crook of your neck while inhaling deeply, taking in your scent like a drug. His lips brushed against the sensitive flesh - his breath was hot on the skin of your collarbone, nuzzling his face further as a satisfied smirk crossed over his lips as he drawled  "Smells good...Mmm".

Aizetsu however, seemed to grow more distressed at the sight of your tears, his eyes narrowed as he watched you squirm beneath Karaku. His lips pulled downward in a deep scowl, and his voice grew dark. "You try to escape us," he muttered, his words threatening as they left his mouth. "And then you scream and cry when we catch you." There was something almost petulant in the way he spoke; it seemed like he was a sulking child being denied of it's needs. "That hardly seems fair..." He pouted, his voice growing thick with disappointment and something else, a hint of bitterness barely contained.

"We can't trust that you won't run again. So, I guess...We'll have to lock you up." Aizetsu pouted; as if this was distressing for him.

Sweat came beading on your forehead as you felt the world begin to spin. Your breathing quickened and a heat began to fill your body, each thrash becoming more desperate and less considered than the last. The demons words echoed around you like an accusation, violence in his resonance - treating you like some rabid animal that needed restraint. Lock you up? What kind of sick joke was this?  You didn't even know what these guys wanted from you - why the hell were you suddenly made their new fidget toy?! Karaku released your wrists with an enthusiastic chortle: "Lock her up? Now that sounds fun!" He expertly lifted you by your waist and threw you over his shoulder, your feeble kicks unable to slow the momentum of him whisking you up and carrying you away. The disorientation from the sudden manhandling made you feel dizzy as you tried in vain to twist free. 

Despite your desperate thrashing, the demon seemed to take it all in stride as if this was a part of his everyday life. His steps continued even and unhurried, his grip on you tight yet seemingly effortless. The way he held you over his shoulder gave off an odd sense of familiarity, like he had done this thousands of times before - like he didn’t have to think twice about it. What the hell could you have done in your life to deserve getting kidnapped by demons? Upper-ranked, nutcase demons at that?

"...We'd better hurry, Karaku," Aizetsu said with a tense grimace. He glanced around the dense forest anxiously - as if expecting Sekido to appear at any moment in an explosion fit of rage. "Sekido’s got quite a temper on him these days and he'll be really mad if we're not back soon."

"Mm," He hummed softly in agreement before adding a sly comment; his voice barely above a whisper. "I think we should have the luxury of taking our time with her – Sekido this – Sekido that - He's not here now, is he?" His eyes danced playfully as they searched Aizetsu 's for signs of agreement.

Aizetsu shook his head, he couldn't help the frown that tugged at his lips, "No, he isn't here, but..." He trailed off. With a devilish spark in his eyes, he cut Aizestu off before he could finish his train of thought. "But nothing. Why don't we make the most of it?" He said as a smirk curled up on one side of his face. "Let's have a little fun."

Aizetsu didn't seem very convinced, his eyes quietly assessing the situation. Karaku leaned forward, you still over his shoulders. "Come on," he drawled, with a shrug of his shoulders. "If he really wanted to get his hands on her, he would have come along." His voice was smug as the words fell from between his lips; it made no difference how serious the circumstance was - Karaku would find any way to mess around.

"I-I suppose..." Aizetsu mumbled tentatively. A brief moment of silence passed, the idle chirping of the cicadas in the background. "Wanna play catch with her? I'll toss her to you and you-" Suddenly, you startlingly interjected with an exasperated "Hello?!", disrupting their idle chatter that seemed to be ignoring your existence. Your presence had gone neglected as they spoke about playing catch and tossing you around like a mere item - one possessed rather than personable. Both demons turned their attention to you - both having no intention of taking anything that'll leave your lips seriously.

"W-What the hell do you want from me...?"  you stammered out. You had been dragged over his shoulder, your arms and legs dangling like a ragdoll for long enough.  Continuing to thrash, each kick you delivered only made him grip you tighter, even as you vainly hit his back with closed fists, he didn't budge. "How pitiful." Aizetsu muttered underneath his breath.

Karaku let out a deep, rumbling chuckle. His eyes glinted mischievously in the moonlight as he spoke: "Isn't it clear? You're our plaything now." He seemed to relish his own words as if they were a special delicacy and he went on to mumble something about how having a human around made things more interesting for everyone. He laughed again happily, savoring every moment that your encounter lasted as he knew that eventually boredom will overcome them all. Right. It would just last until they got bored of you.

"And will you stop squirming? Seriously, it's like you're trying to tickle me." 

It dawned on you. Truly, whatever you did, or said, nothing seemed to phase the demons steady pace, any resistance was futile. You had no choice but to give in and hang limply against his broad frame in silent defeat...

Karaku laughed darkly, his hand coming down hard onto your backside with a harsh smack. You gasped, mouth agape. "Good girl," he praised you before sending a pointed glance towards Aizetsu, "See? She gets it now." His words hung in the air as if challenging someone to disagree with him, you looked away in embarrassment and shame.

You felt as if you were slipping inexorably into a deep, dark abyss. A wave of humiliation and dread was washing over you; it threatened to swallow your meager remains whole. Your rights had been stripped from you in an instant and the title of 'plaything' was bestowed upon your weary shoulders by these demons - for what? Just for their temporary amusement? Were you really nothing but a docile creature now? Obediently awaiting to be forgotten when they decided that they'd had enough amusement at your expense? This couldn't be happening.

Why? Why was this happening? Your mind screamed, your thoughts frantic with terror as you were taken over his shoulder all the way back to where these sick monsters resided. The forest around you blurred past in a passing panorama and all you could do is wallow in helpless dread. Their voices were muted to mere murmurs, drowning into nothing beside the other sounds of nature - a backdrop to this nightmare that seemed never-ending; every step felt like an eternity as you treaded towards where they called home.

"So how about it? I think playing catch is a pretty good idea." 'K-Karaku...No." "Why not? I bet you, if Urogi was here he would've said yes in a heartbeat." You were doomed, thats for sure.

[mcntsee]

Shooting star

Summary: You spot a shooting star, close your eyes tight, make a wish, and hope it comes true.

Warnings: Angst.

Note: This is not my favorite work, but I saw a shooting star today and just had to write something.

* ੈ✩‧₊˚

Kaz wasn't certain what had brought him here in the first place, nor did he have an inkling as to why they were having this conversation.

"It's not foolish; it's a shooting star!"

Yet, deep down, he acknowledged it might have been his heart’s silent plea to remain close to her, willing to follow her anywhere, even through the depths of hell.

"It's not even a star."

"Quiet and let me make a wish."

He couldn't fathom it. Watching her squeeze her eyes shut so tightly, he wondered if she wasn't seeing stars.

Despite finding her actions silly, he couldn't bring himself to extinguish the twinkle in her eyes.

So he waited until she opened her eyes again. "I've seen you take down multiple men, yet you believe a rock will make your wishes come true."

“There’s people out there that can stop our hearts with a mere gesture.”

Not to mention those born destined to become Saints.

"I believe a rock entering the atmosphere could make a wish come true."

He recalled his mum mentioning shooting stars a couple of times. Just like Y/N, she had mimicked the same actions. Whatever his mum had wished for, he never discovered.

“Has it ever?”

“What?”

“Has a wish ever come true?”

“Yes. One.”

He wanted to laugh. How unfair it seemed that she could find happiness in a rock when he, as a child, had been let down by the so-called shooting stars multiple times. But he didn’t.

“What was it?”

“To be saved.”

If Kaz was known for anything other than the dreadful things he could do for the right price, it was for always having a retort. This time, however, he didn’t. So he listened.

“I was hungry, angry, cold and sad. And I saw one.”

She could recall that day vividly, as if it were yesterday. Granted, it had only been a couple of years, but she was certain she would never forget it.

“I wished someone would come and save me.”

She had closed her eyes tightly, her father’s voice echoing in her head, reminding her of the countless times he had taken her stargazing.

The day they saw a shooting star, her father had told her to make a wish. She had.

Sometimes she still wonders if the reason why her father died was was because she had shared her wish with her friend. If the Saints viewed it as breaking a rule and twisted her dream into a nightmare.

“Next day, you found me.”

“I think that’s called luck, love.”

“We don’t get lucky, Kaz.”

Kaz hummed. A silence enveloped them both, and he wondered what she had wished for. To live for many years? To always have money? Perhaps she had wished for love or to leave this city behind.

“You should try it.”

“I don’t rely on rocks for my wishes to manifest.”

With a sigh, she stood up. For a moment, Kaz yearned to grasp her hands and implore her to stay, to convey that he would, just to keep her from leaving. Yet, he hesitated, and that brief pause was all she needed to vanish.

“And, I already have my shooting star.”

* ੈ✩‧₊˚

Kaz never would have imagined that the next time he returned to this spot, it would be without her by his side.

He never anticipated the overwhelming emptiness that would consume him—the ache in his heart echoing the memory of her laughter and the beauty of her eyes whenever his mind dared to revisit those moments.

It had been so long since he last heard her voice—telling stories, teasing him, attempting to draw laughter from him.

His shooting star was gone, and all the magic she had planted within him was extinguished—ripped away just as she had been.

He felt so alone.

While his mind had been lost in what if’s, his eyes caught the swift movement in the sky—a shooting star, racing faster than the constant wind hitting his face.

He laughed—a laughter laced with pain—as he reminisced about the countless times he had seen Y/N pause, shutting her eyes tight in pursuit of wishes.

Without meaning to, he imitated the same actions he had seen her do countless times, closing his eyes. His wish left his lips in a quiet whisper.

“Come back.”

But she wouldn’t. After all, it wasn’t even a star. Just a rock breaking through the atmosphere.

In the blink of an eye, the shooting star was gone, much like his- his girl, his shooting star.

[meganwayne24]

A Ticking Clock (pt. 1)

Did time ever stop for you?

Fandom: Insomniac Spider-Man

Word Count: 1517

Pairing: PS5 Harry Osborn x Reader

Trigger Warning: Death, light swearing, anger

All you could hear, so vividly, was ticking. A clock’s arms moving slower and slower, time running out. Covering it was static. The shock of the explosion made your ears ring. Your head was spinning. Reality felt like a dream you were about to wake from. Like everything in your life was leading up to this moment.

Your eyes fluttered open trying to take in your surroundings. The zoo you were in was destroyed. Everything was on fire and damaged and there was no sight of comfort. Bodies of hunters scattered the warm ground with their blood pooling in each man-made pothole. You looked up seeing the shattered glass ceiling realizing a few of the cuts along your body were inflicted by the shards. Still staring up you see Harry fighting Kraven with the symbiote. They were angry, furious punches. You looked to your right to see MJ desperately trying to hold Peter up, the broken blade of Kraven’s sword sticking out of his side.

You went to get up when you realized you were stuck. Your tunnel vision state prevented you from seeing the metal pole that was lying across your chest. It was almost the size of a boulder, but felt like you were crushed under the statue that nearly took out MJ and Peter. You were short of breath, it was likely the impact collapsed one of your lungs.

Peter’s strength gave out, a fair distance from you. You were sure they couldn’t see you. MJ tried to hold him up but he couldn’t walk anymore. You could see her uttering words to Peter but all you could hear again was that ticking. Slower and slower.

It wasn’t looking good for Peter, but you knew things were far worse than you originally suspected when the first word you heard was a violent, desperate, horrified scream.

“HARRY!” It was MJ. Peter was on his back, his breathing visibly shallow. You watched his chest rising up and down, slower…and slower. Harry hit Kraven one last time that seemed to keep him down for a while. He jumped down from the glass and landed a meter away. He sprinted to Peter’s side, his knees hitting the ground hard. The only time you can remember him dropping like that was when he got the news about his mom.

Your hearing started to tune back in briefly as you heard Harry “Hey, hey buddy this is nothing. Remember in 5th grade when-” Pete’s mask was off. His head went limp first, then quickly down his limbs in the matter of milliseconds his body was finally at rest.

“Pete…” MJ couldn’t process what was happening.

“NOOO!” Harry was distraught. He couldn’t stand a loss like this. Not again. They sat there for a minute until Harry looked up at MJ. “Where’s Y/N?” He had been so caught up in losing his best friend. He had to push it aside for now. He stares at MJ intensely, waiting for her to answer. She always had a lead. But when he looked at her, she had nothing but a scared look on her face. “Where is she?! I won’t lose another person. I CAN’T.”

You try to reach your arm out. Something to draw his attention to your direction. You try to say something, but you’re still short of breath and realize yelling isn’t something you can do now. Your cuts have been releasing blood by the minute. You were dying. You started losing feeling in your arm. You couldn’t tell if it was from exhaustion, or the lack of blood flow. Your eyes started to close slightly, the ticking creeping up again. Could you even call it that now though? Now it was just an occasional thump. That’s what it’s been. Your heart begging, pleading with the rest of your body to have something to pump through. But there was almost nothing now. So little in your body and yet so much to lose.

MJ had been your best friend for as long as you could remember. She was just always there. Any event in your life you could think of, there she was, the two of you cheering each other on. And Harry…Harry was everything. Day, night. It was him. A part of you always knew that but you just never could bring yourself to tell him, because what if he didn’t feel the same and you lost him forever. It felt stupid now. You were dying and all you could think of was how you wished you had the chance to tell him. And now it was too late.

“-Y/N. Oh my god Y/N!” You felt so weak but you managed to open your eyes a slight crack. Harry used the symbiote’s strength to lift the pole off of you. You felt a surge of pure pain and let out a brutal, soul-crushing cry. Tears streaming down your face.

Harry got down next to you, his eyes wide with fear. He was afraid of making things worse so he held your hand. His face a mere centimeters away. “I’m sorry. It’s okay, you’re gonna be okay. Please.”

“Harry…” You struggled to breathe let alone speak. “I need…I need to tell you…” Your other hand reached to his face.

“No. You’re going to be okay, you hear me? You don’t die today.” You felt tears on his cheek.

“Harry…please.” You started to gasp for air between words.

“Y/N breathe with me okay?” He starts taking deep breaths in and out. You try to follow but it’s becoming increasingly harder, taking more and more of your energy each time.

“Harry listen please.” He saw something in your eyes. Something he didn’t know he’d been dreading. Desperation. Not for someone, but for time. He stopped speaking and looked at you. “I love you.” You gasped for air. “I always did.” You needed to make it quick. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” Between each word almost it felt like you weren’t getting air in at all. It didn’t matter to you at that moment though. You watched Harry, suddenly noticing every speck and crease your eyes glossed over before. Before he could respond, your eyes closed. That ticking clock finally stopped. No more noise.

“No. No no no no. Y/N please open your eyes.” Harry was now holding you close to him trying to wake you up. “Please this can’t be it.” His mind started swirling with all the unspoken words that had been in his head for years. Every stolen glance he had ever taken. Every little thing you did when you were excited or scared that he noticed. “I love you. I love you I love you I’m sorry.” He pressed his forehead to yours. His original crying had now become audible sobs. They progressively turned into angry screams.

“Harry you found-” MJ came running over until the image was burned into her brain of what took place. You died in his arms. Peter and you, now gone. Harry gently put you down. He walked onto the path between you and his once lively best friend.

“Heal the world. What’s the point when they’re not here? Heal everyone else’s world but not my own. Our own.” He paused, everything hitting him in that moment. “This isn’t FAIR!” Swiftly following that yell was the black tentacles escaping from him. They projected outwards as Harry screamed with rage. MJ watched in horror as the tentacles started to move their way around you and Peter. Both of your corpses were both being held in the air. The symbiote encapsulated you both, simultaneously placing you on the ground.

That ticking was back. At a much quicker pace than what you had gotten used to. You shot up, eyes wide open. You hadn’t had this much energy for as long as you could remember. Gasping for air, you observed your surroundings. Pete was looking around as confused as you were. He was covered in what looked like Harry’s suit. Pete looked between you and Harry and before you knew it the black tentacles had you pinned against a tree.

“PETE WHAT THE HELL?”

“Y/N?” Peter revealed his face from the suit. “Why are you in Harry’s suit?”

“What are you talking about?” You finally look down and see you are enveloped by the symbiote. “Wait no…this isn’t right. MJ? Harry?”

“You died. Both of you. The symbiote just sort of split from Harry and into the two of you.” MJ, now with a clear mind, had the answer.

“Wait so Harry does that mean..?” You were heartbroken. You knew what him not having the symbiote meant. No cure meant the disease was no longer in remission.

“Yeah, it does.” He didn’t seem too upset. He kept looking at you, like he was more concerned for you than him.

“Okay so how do we-” Before Pete could finish, more hunters started showing up. It was time to go. That ticking thumped normally now, officially drowned out by the adrenaline pumping in your ears from having to run to safety.

A/N: hope you guys enjoyed! i can’t lie I wanna make a part 2 like it feels part 1-ish if you get what I mean. maybe a story idkkkk we’ll see! I should also mention this is one of the first fanfics I've written so if it's rough I apologize lol she's a work in progress!

[iheartchv]

Sunny Day Jack x Reader:

I Never Forgot

What if you were one of the few people who remembered vividly about Sunny Day Jack... even after the whole show seemed to have been forgotten?

☀️Rating: Fluffy

🌈 Part 2 | 🌈 Part 3

❤💛💙❤💛💙❤💛💙❤💛💙❤💛💙❤

As a child growing up, you watched The SunnyTime Crew Show. You were 3 or 4 years old then, and you would watch every episode whenever they came out. Sure, there were plenty of interesting characters, but one that stood out to you was Sunny Day Jack. The blue haired clown was your favorite, the best friend you always wanted, and you wanted to meet him in person. At the time, money was tight, so that was one crushed childhood dream. The other was when there were no more episodes of The SunnyTime Crew Show being released. You had asked but no answers were given. You cried that one night (a few days after the incident); you felt like you had lost a best friend, and all the drawings and paintings you did hurt your little heart that you put them away in a box of memories. Jack was gone, but not forgotten...

❤💛💙❤💛💙❤💛💙❤💛💙❤💛💙

❤💛💙PRESENT DAY ❤💛💙

You're now at a threft shop, looking for clothes that wouldn't remind you of your ex, Ian. As you picked up some random stuff that fell over, you didn't notice a VCR tape that fell in your basket. As you were checking out, you were about to object to buying it, but decided that it wasn't worth 25 cents over. What could've been on the tape?On it was written '84- Incident'. Bells went off in your head seeing the year... A memory or something was trying to resurface... Borrowing a VCR player, you popped in the tape.

The static on the TV continued for a moment until you heard... a voice... saying,"Hello?" Bells went off in your head again as you stared at the static screen. That voice... it sounded familiar. Just then a shape formed through the jagged lines of the TV screen. It looked... human... And it was coming closer.

"Who... are you?" The voice said. Your heart started to beat faster. You felt like you were in a horror movie. You wanted to back up and run away, but you were frozen with fear. Your chest tightened as your flight or fight response kicked in. "You seem nice... Do you want to be my friend?"

The figure then... came through the screen as if it was climbing through a window. You wanted to scream but it was stuck in your throat. You choked on it. The figure then stood... they were tall. The scream then finally made its way out of your lungs as you bumped into the coffee table.

"Oh, gosh. Are you okay? I didn't mean to scare you, Sunspot." the figure said in a concerned tone.

Sunspot? You remembered... him always calling you Sunspot... As your eyes adjusted to the dimness of your living room, you could see that he (you assumed) had... blue hair? You also caught glimpses of his primary colored clothes... A memory was triggered. Everything was put together like a puzzle. No... this couldn't be?

"Jack... Sunny Day Jack?"

"You... know me?" He looked surprised.

"Yeah... I used to watch your show all the time as a kid. But... how... why...?" You had so many questions that you wanted answered. You were a ball of wound up emotions right now. You didn't know what to feel right now.

Jack cleared his throat, trying to change the subject to something simpler. "I'm sorry for bring rude, but I didn't get your name..." he said with a small chuckle and a smile.

"It's... y/n."

"Y/n. That's a nice name. Do you want to be my new best friend, Sunspot?"

He reached his hand out toward you for a handshake. At this moment, you strangely felt like a kid again. You were meeting Sunny Day Jack... in person (or the closest thing, at least). His cheery voice drew you in, like it did those many years ago. You took his hand in a firm handshake. "Sure." That was the last thing you remember before blacking out.

Been working on this idea for a couple of days, and I plan on writing a few more parts to this c: I also don't know if anything like this has already been written, but here it is nonetheless. I really hope you all in the SDJ fandom enjoys~☁️🌈☀️